Page 97 of Devil Mine

“No!” I say, waving my hands like there’s an easy explanation for my presence here. “Please don’t tell anyone. I just thought I recognized the crest on this envelope, I’m not a thief or anything like that.”

He comes forward, sharp, silver eyes examining me.

“It’s the crest for my secondary school.”

“Oh, this is your house,” I say lamely, my cheeks flaming red. “Then I’m doubly sorry for snoopingandnot knowing who invited me into their home.”

He gives me a calculating smile. It’s not unfriendly but there’s zero hint of warmth in it either. Still, he continues to entertain me. “Royal Crown Academy,” he says. “That’s the crest.”

My mouth drops in a shocked ‘o’ before I smack my forehead and laugh. “That’s why I recognized it. My brother is a professor there.”

Clear interest appears in his gaze where there was none before. He closes the space between us, taking the envelope from me and looking thoughtfully down at it. After a moment, his eyes lift back up to mine.

“That’s an interesting coincidence. My daughter is currently a student there. I wonder if he’s one of her teachers,” he says. Extending his hand, he adds, “I’m Callum.”

I place my much smaller one in his. “I’m–”

“I see you’ve met my wife, Tellier.”

Thiago emerges ominously from the shadows, a destructive expression etched across his features. The black look in his eye when his gaze flicks down to where Callum and I hold hands is so visibly hostile that a powerful tremor rocks me. The teardrop tattoo twitches menacingly beneath his dark gaze.

“Remove your hand,” he orders. “Or lose it.”

I immediately slacken my grip and pull my hand back, but Callum holds onto it. He draws the moment out for an insolently long breath. Thiago’s jaw clenches dangerously. He looks about ready to snap when Callum finally does as requested and releases my hand.

I’m not sure what game our host is playing, but the temperature around us just dropped twenty degrees.

My husband walks stiffly towards me, shoulders taut as he keeps an antagonistic eye on the other man. I’m silent, eyes pinging between the two of them, unsure what to do with such palpable tension hovering menacingly above us.

When Thiago reaches my side he throws a venomous glare at Callum before turning towards me, cupping my nape and slamming his mouth savagely down on mine. I gasp breathily, caught completely off guard, and he uses the opportunity to thrust his tongue into my mouth. Greedy, impatient hands grab generous fistfuls of my ass and use them to pull me tightly against him, his entire body rigid with aggression. He bites my lower lip in warning, sucking the tender skin into his mouth as he fists my hair and yanks it painfully. I grasp desperately at the lapels of his tuxedo, attempting to keep up with the violent, territorial assault, and completely forgetting that we have an audience.

God, it’s been weeks since he kissed me. I’ve missed the feeling of his lips on mine.

The kiss is over almost as abruptly as it started. Thiago pulls away just enough to make me stumble into him, his pupils blown, his eyes black, and his now lipstick-covered mouth stretching into a darkly arrogant smile.

Dazed, I let him drag me into his side, locking me against him with a hand clutching my waist. He turns towards Callum with my lipstick still all over his mouth. The obscenely possessive way he lazily licks his lips is done purposefully, the dangerous tone and throttled emotion in his voice an explicit warning.

“Mywife, Callum,” he snarls. “Mine.”

My stomach sinks. This has nothing to do with me. It’s a power play between the two of them, with Thiago feeling threatened. A cartel boss can’t have somebody else hitting on his wife so he just did the human equivalent of pissing all over me to mark his territory. My earlier anger comes roaring back to life.

Callum smiles at Thiago, clearly amused by this crude display of jealousy.

“Very entertaining,” he comments unemotionally, before sliding his eyes slowly back to me. “So, you’re Tess,” he adds, smile growing. It looks almost unnatural on his face, like he isn’t used to it.

Thiago’s hand tightens painfully on my waist. Pressed up against his side, I can feel the anger vibrating through his body growing more powerful with every passing second. He’s clearly furious.

But so am I.

“I am. It’s lovely to meet you,” I say, sweetly. I’ve never used that tone with Thiago.

Angry eyes whip down to stare at me, the intensity in them like lasers trying to bore a hole into the side of my face.

“Likewise. We should continue our conversation at another, less inopportune, time.”

An irate growl starts deep in Thiago’s chest and rips from his throat. He pushes me behind him and goes toe to toe with Callum. Even after everything, my reflex is still to protect him, to grab his arm with both of my hands and try to hold him back. Thiago might be meaner, but Callum is bigger and I don’t want him to get hurt.

Instead of being able to restrain him, he pulls my weight easily after him. He keeps his arm extended behind him, shielding me away from the other man.

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