Page 19 of Bad Little Bride

“I liked him.”

His body goes rigid, and slowly, he cocks his head. “You…liked him.”

Why do I feel like that was the wrong thing to say?

He crowds me some more. “Tell me, what did he do to make you…likehim?”

“He was good at his job, paid attention. He was kind to me.”

“Kind to you.” His eyes narrow, tension tightening his jaw and when he speaks, it's through clenched teeth. “Did he speak to you?”

“Well, no?—”

“Did he look at you?”

“No, but?—”

“Did hesaveyou?”

My brows snap together. “What? No?—”

“So how did he earn the title ofsavior?” He spits the word.

“Uh…” Did I call him that? I might have said it playfully, but I can’t think right now, not with Enzo coming closer, backing me up farther and farther.

“What did he do to earn a smile from you?” he presses, frustration rolling off him in waves.

What the hell is happening right now?

It makes no sense, and he keeps on coming.

“Tell me, is a warm cappuccino all it takes?”

My back hits the brick railing and his palms come down, resting against the space nearest my hips, his thumbs so close they brush my ribs. Goosebumps spread along my arms, and I press my lips into a firm line.

“If so, what will a double get me, hmm?” His face disappears into my neck without a moment’s notice, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping when his lips press over my pulse there. “A night in your bed, perhaps?”

My insides spark with heat, and I close my eyes, shifting to bury them in his hair to spare myself the humiliation of allowing others to see the reaction my body has to his nearness, even when the meaning behind his words is foul and degrading.

Liquid insides or not, he’s pissing me off, so I slide my hand in his dark locks and tug.

His low growl sweeps over me like warm satin, and when his heated gaze meets mine, I manage a small smile.

“Oh, Enzo,” I whisper, ignoring the way his eyes flare. “If only you knew how little themanymen I’ve invited into my bed had to do to get there.”

Rage rattles in his chest, and he grips my hip hard. “You lie,” he hisses.

“You’ll never know.”

He grinds his teeth, his fingers digging into my skin.

“Should I come back?”

My spine straightens at the sound ofAnn-Marie’svoice, and I push against Enzo’s chest, but he doesn’t budge.

He holds still, eyes on mine until another set of footsteps shuffle closer, and then another.

The harshness falls from his face in a blink, and he spins, an air of indifference painted across him.

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