Page 16 of Tower of Temptations

I should have. Should have pulled away, remembered who we were and why I was here. Instead, I found myself leaning closer, drawn by something I couldn't name.

The first brush of his lips was devastatingly gentle. Nothing like the brutal claiming I'd expected. His free hand came up to cradle my face as I melted into him, years of carefully constructed walls crumbling under his touch.

When he deepened the kiss, I heard myself make a sound that should have been embarrassing. But then his tongue swept into my mouth, and I stopped thinking entirely. My hands found his shoulders, his chest, anywhere I could touch. All those nights of watching him in this library, imagining this moment, hadn't prepared me for the reality.

A sharp knock at the library door made me jump. "Boss?" Angelo's voice shattered the moment. "We've got movement. Vittorio's men were spotted nearby."

Giuliano pulled back slightly but kept me close. His chest rose and fell rapidly, matching my own ragged breathing. "How close?"

"Too close. They're searching systematically, working their way toward the coast." Angelo hesitated. "Should we move her to another location?"

"No." Giuliano's hand tightened possessively on the small of my back. "Increase patrols. Change the guard rotation. She stays here…where I can protect her."

Angelo lingered for a moment, and I caught the slight curve of his lips, a knowing look that made my cheeks burn. When they were both gone, I sank deeper into the chair, my heart still racing.

Something had shifted between us, something that went far deeper than simple attraction or whatever this game between captor and captive was supposed to be. For the first time since my father died, someone had seen past the perfect facade to the real me underneath.

The question was—what the hell was I going to do about it?

10

GIULIANO

Icouldn't sleep.

The memory of her in the library consumed me: the softness of her lips, the quiet gasp when I first touched her, how perfectly she fit against me. My body burned with unfulfilled desire, mind replaying every detail of our interrupted moment.

I glanced at the security feed showing her room, where she sat reading in that damn window seat. Always there, always just out of reach. When we'd first explained the cameras—a necessary security measure—she hadn't flinched. Just nodded and asked if the bathroom was private. That quiet dignity, so different from the usual games women played with me.

God knows I'd had my share of them. Socialites, heiresses, even the occasional model, all perfectly willing to warm my bed. The thrill of conquest had worn thin years ago. They were all the same: calculated moves, practiced moans, everything designed to secure a position in my world.

But Pearl...

She wasn't trying to seduce anyone. Didn't bat her eyes or push out her chest when I entered the room. If anything, she challenged me at every turn. Called me on my bullshit. Made me question things I'd accepted as gospel.

"Fuck." I palmed myself through my slacks, watching her curl deeper into that oversized sweater she'd claimed from somewhere.

The security feed showed her completely absorbed in her book, unconsciously tucking hair behind her ear in a gesture that made heat coil in my gut. The innocent movement shouldn't have affected me this much, but everything she did was like gasoline on an already raging fire.

This wasn't part of the plan. She was supposed to be leverage, nothing more. A way to bring Vittorio to his knees, make him pay for everything he'd stolen from my family. The perfect bargaining chip.

Instead, she'd become my obsession.

I unzipped my pants, giving in to the need that had been building since that kiss. Imagined how she'd taste, the sounds she'd make if I touched her properly. Would she fight it at first, that proper upbringing warring with desire? Or would she surrender immediately, letting me claim every inch of her?

My hand moved faster as I pictured her beneath me, all that golden hair spread across my sheets. How she'd arch when I?—

"Christ." I came with her name on my lips, but it didn't help. If anything, the need burned hotter.

On screen, she shifted position, completely unaware of the effect she had on me. On all of us. I'd seen how the men watched her—their lingering glances, the way they found excuses to check on her. The thought of them serving her, worshipping her, sent an unexpected surge of heat through my blood. Let them look. Let them want. In the end, she'd come to me—and maybe I'd let them watch as I claimed what was mine.

Even if she shouldn't be.

I cleaned myself up, but the ache remained. Before I could think better of it, I was already moving toward the door.

"Just checking security," I told myself, knowing it was a lie. "Making sure she's not planning anything stupid. I can control myself."

Right. Because that had worked so well in the library.

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