Page 53 of The Art of You

“Obviously,” he bit out.

Shit. Thanks, Freud. “Are my cheeks as red as I feel?”

“Youfeelcolor?” His mouth stole my attention, it was quite the showstopper.

“Hot, I mean.” I slowly walked over to him, and he couldn’t hide the appreciation in his eyes as he studied me from head to toe with each step I took.

I’d been so laser-focused on his body, it was possible this wasn’t his first time taking in my tiny pink shorts and loose, off-the-shoulder Metallica tee,sansbra. Callie had opted for fun and sexy without running the risk of giving him a heart attack by wearing a negligee for any of our security team to see.

“I’m not sure how many different ways I can say your name right now to get you to understand me, but I’m going to try again.”

I could hear Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” playing in my head the moment our gazes connected. The hard, intense beats. The banging drums. The vibrations from the music thrummed between us as he locked his arms at his sides.

“Izzy.” That name was enough to snap my spine fully straight. He narrowed his eyes like a challenge while slamming his lips into a tight line.

I hadn’t heard him call me Izzy in years. In the past, he usually just said my full name, but a time or two he’d call me by what everyone else did. Then, one day, I suddenly became Bella. I never asked why, worried if I pointed it out, he’d stop. I loved how it sounded far too much for him to do that.

“Alessandro said he tasked Malik with watching you. Where is he?” He lifted a brow, eyes going to my shoulder, keying in on the same purple mark I spied on his body. Evidence of our seat belts saving our lives.

We’d shared that horrible moment together, and maybe it was time we share some good ones, too.No time like thepresent. Why not ignore the heaping pile of dog shit in the form of bad media online, a potential stalker, and a mysterious murderer, surrounding us?

“Malik’s walking Callie to the pool house so I could come here and see you.”

He grimaced as he focused on the purple by my eye and at my temple. Maybe I should’ve put some concealer over the bruise before coming. It hurt him to see my injuries just as much as it pained me to see the ones on his skin.

The moment his attention went to my shirt and his nostrils flared, I lost all thoughts about the accident. I clocked the exact moment he zeroed in on the fact my breasts weren’t hidden by the world’s most uncomfortable invention, high heels coming in at a close second. “So, he didn’t see you like this? Did anyone else?”

“On the hall cams, I suppose.” I shrugged, forgetting I was a shitty bluffer around people I cared about. “Does it matter? I’m in shorts and a tee in my own house.”

His hard body engulfed all of the space between us in one quick stride. We were so close, he had to lower his chin to find my eyes. “Why are you doing this to me? Alessandro is down the hall, and Enzo and Constantine will be here any second.” His chest rose on a deep inhalation, and when he released it, his bare skin touched my body. “Are you looking for a distraction like I was this morning?”

He was giving me a way out with that question, one I didn’t want to take.

“I’m assuming your brother filled you in?”

I nodded, unable to speak as his hand lazily skimmed my outer thigh, just skirting the line of my ass cheek. Was he even aware he was doing it?

“The mood I’m in . . . this is a bad time.” His warningwould’ve been more effective if he stepped back or stopped heating my skin with his touch. “Dangerous, even.”

“Dangerous to what?” A shaky exhale followed as his hand skipped over my ass and skimmed up my back, finally stopping on my one bare shoulder.

“To my control.” And just like that, he’d dropped the words. Set them there between us for the taking. And I was about to run with them, all the way home, but then he sent me a curveball instead. “You have something you need to ask me, I suppose.”

He was trying so hard to use his words as a wedge between us, but I didn’t budge.Not today, sailor. Not this time.“I know you didn’t sleep with Bianca.” But Kit deserved my mother’s famous soap in her mouth to wash the filth from it for writing such a thing about my sister.

“You never thought that?” His hand on my shoulder went to the back of my head, and he tangled his hand in my messy hair, never losing hold of my eyes. Nostrils flaring. Jaw clenched, bladed and sharp.

The man was wound tight. The beach stroll did nothing for him. Maybe I’d been wrong, and this wasn’t the perfectno time like the presentmoment for us. But here I was, stuck between a rock and a hard body.

“Not for a second,” I admitted. “Never crossed my mind.” There was another beautiful Italian I was curious about, though. “Maybe Adelina? I’ll admit, Friday night in the car, I wondered.”

“And do you wonder about that now?” His hand traveled to the nape of my neck before landing once again on my shoulder. He swept his thumb in small circles there.

“Yes,” I confessed. “I can’t imagine you working side by side with a woman that stunning and never . . .”

“I haven’t made a move on you, and we’re colleagues, haveI? You’re smart and witty. Downright hilarious.” I’d take those compliments every day of the week. “And . . . beautiful,” he surrendered. “And I have to be around you seven days a week. Look at you all the fucking time.” He’d pretty much snarled his words, such a sharp contrast to how he’d first spoken.

He abruptly removed his hand from my shoulder as if realizing what he’d said and was only now paying attention to where he was touching me.Howhe was touching me. His hand on my heated skin had branded me. I was his now. The way I wanted to be.

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