Page 86 of The Devil Can Be Kind

I could feel him pause a moment, his breath swirling against my stomach. Then his lips sucked at the skin beneath my belly button and his strong hands started trailing the backs of my calves.

“Marco. I can’t do this.”

His hands stilled against my skin as the words hung in the air.

A handful of seconds passed before he turned his head away from me, a sound of discontent resonating deep within in his throat. Slowly, he rose to his feet and turned his back toward me, letting out a heavy sigh.

I caught a glimpse of his expression in the mirror. Arousal mixed with frustration shadowed his eyes and creased his brow as he looked down at the floor.

He didn’t make another sound as he walked out, leaving me weak and trembling in his wake.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

ADALYN

It was fair to say flying on private jets was nothing new for me. So, when Jesse insisted I didn’t know what I was “in for” for our journey, I brushed him off.

It wasn’t until the moment the SUV’s pulled to a stop alongside a humongous, sleek white airliner that I realized why he was so smug. The plane was probably double the size of any private jet I had even seen, let alone been on.

Jesse had been right—I really had no idea.

When I asked what kind of plane it was, he wore a rather proud expression as he informed me it was a Bombardier 7500. Though he might as well have been speaking in Klingon for all that meant to me.

The plane was split into three distinct seating areas excluding a bedroom, bathroom, and fully fitted kitchen. Cream colored leathers and highly polished dark wood finished the interior, and I couldn’t help but graze my fingers over the perfect, shiny surfaces as we boarded.

Unfortunately, despite the cabin’s pleasing appearance, the twelve-hour trip from O’Hare International to Catania airport was anything but pleasant.

Marco wore a permanent scowl on his face and his tumbler was continuously filled with whiskey by the flight attendant. I was starting to think the man had a drinking problem.

His piss-poor mood kept the air tense the duration of the flight and it didn’t escape anyone’s notice that I was seemingly the cause of it.

By the time we had landed at Catania, the silence was stifling, and I breathed a sigh of relief when Jesse and I travelled separately to Marco’s villa that evening.

Despite the late hour, the grandeur of the nineteenth century castle was not completely lost to the darkness. Lights shone up the walls, emphasizing two square turrets and a fifteen-foot portico made of elaborately entwined arches. The property was equally as grand on the inside. White and black veined marble decorated almost every surface, interspersed with ornately carved wood and hand painted ceilings. It was breathtaking.

Unlike the rest of the mansion, my room was relatively modern. Remodeled to include pure white walls, remote control shutters, and glass double doors that led out to a large balcony. Attached was a spacious dressing room and a pristine black-accented bathroom.

I tossed my duffle bag onto the white polished vanity and threw myself on the bed.

I’m actually in Sicily.

I was far, far away from my family and the life I had always known up until several months ago and yet…I didn’t miss it. I didn’t even feel like I had left anything behind.

The thought was as freeing as it was unnerving.

The next morningI had breakfast on one of the most beautiful terraces I had ever been on. It overlooked the property’s extensive grounds in a tranquil stillness, the turquoise sea glistening off in the near distance. It was a peaceful morning with bright sunshine and a cloudless blue sky. The perfect weather for sunbathing.

I hadn’t seen Marco since he walked in the opposite direction to me when we arrived last night. Presumably he was locked away in a study somewhere attending to business. My assumption was only strengthened when I saw various groups of men filter in and out the castle halls that morning, all heading in the direction of what I assumed was his study.

Not that his disappearing act bothered me—I needed as much space from him as I could get after what had happened between us. I had no idea what it all meant or what the consequences might be. We were dangerously walking along a tight rope at this point, and I had no intention of falling off, for fear of what lay beneath it.

Hurt,I imagined.

Thankfully, Jesse’s presence wasn’t needed by Marco for the day and so his only job was ensuring I didn’t get lost amongst the many corridors and doors. With both our schedules wide open and the weather as beautiful as Sicily got, we decided to make use of the villa’s private beach. It was just a stone’s throw away and accessible through an elaborate topiary garden to the east.

Finding three sets of white canopy beds lining the sweeping shore, I settled on the closest while flipping through a magazine. Jesse parked off on the other one nearby and passed out withinthirty seconds of laying down, clearly feeling the effects of jet lag and snoring loud enough to scare away the local wildlife.

---