Page 17 of Desire and Revenge

I can’t help the laugh that rips out of me, and delight makes her eyes glow.

“Jewelry,” I finally say.

She rolls her eyes. “Unimaginative. I prefer clothes, scarves, and shoes.”

“Why?” I dig out a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and ignore the way her mouth twists down in disapproval. “They’ll only end up being torn off your body.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, we both still, and then her mouth forms a small, “Oh.” Her throat bobs as she swallows. “I don’t think it’s all that easy to rip fabric. It only works in fiction.”

I’m tempted to tell her that we can put it into practice right here and now, but my senses manage to step in on time, and I light a cigarette. “Want one?”

Sofia surprises me for the second time tonight when she nods. I frown, wanting to retract my offer, because for some reason, the thought of her putting this filth in her body annoys me.

I hand one over to her and then step closer to light it for her. This close, I can see the way her brown hair is streaked with blonde randomly. Too random to be unnatural. I want to run my hands through that mass of hair and then wrap it around my fist.

The trust in her eyes as she stares up at me rocks me to my core, and I’m frozen in place until the sound of her choking cough snaps me back to the present.

Without a second thought, I rip the stick out of her mouth and flick it away.

“You’re not supposed to inhale so much at first.”

“You should have told me that before I almost killed myself. Give me another.”

“Go buy your own cigarettes.”

“How rude,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Aren’t you supposed to be nice to your hostess?”

I don’t point out that she’s as much a guest in this house as I am, or maybe more. Unlike her, though, I don’t plan on staying long. This place took everything from me, and I’m not going to let it take me, too.

It’s a pity that that light in her eyes is going to be nothing but dying embers soon. Sebastian is still a sadistic son of a bitch, and she’s an easy target.

“I’m not a nice man,” it’s as much as I’m willing to tell her, and if she has any luck of sense, she’ll see it as the warning it is and walk away. But instead, she steps closer.

“Then why did you protect me at breakfast? And why are you out here?”

I lean back against a solid wood table littered with tools and empty plant pots. “I like it here. It’s peaceful, and I had important things to discuss on the phone. And I didn’t protect you at breakfast. You were stealing his focus from our conversation.”

“It didn’t sound too important.”

I take a drag on my cigarette, wanting to flee from this conversation and to stay right here at the same time.

“I think you’re a liar, Nero Castello.”

My fists tighten at my sides. “You should watch your mouth, Princess. I’ve killed men for less.”

She shivers, those pearly white teeth clamping down on her pillowy bottom lip. “I’m not afraid of you.”

I rise to my full height and step forward, towering over her with almost an entire foot, intent on making her reconsider her brave words. “You’re not?”

A waft of that citrusy smell assaults my nose and senses, and I realize my mistake too late. She’s so tiny and fragile. It’ll be so easy for me to break her... It’d be too easy for anyone.

“Your tattoos.” Her eyes land on my neck and she goes up on the tips of her toes, trying to inspect the tattoos. “Is that a tree? Can I see the rest of it? What does it mean?”

“You’d have to strip me down to see the whole thing,” I reply, a smirk playing on my lips. “And I don’t think your husband would appreciate his new bride getting a private show.”

Sofia shrugs. “It’s more than he’s willing to do for me.”

I shouldn’t ask. I absolutely shouldn’t ask. Shit, I really shouldn’t, but I do anyway. “What?”

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