Page 60 of Savage Prince

“Yes, it is a shame.” Not that either of us could ride one in our current states.

I veer to the right, the damp, musty smell following me as I head toward a tower of lounge chairs. It’s not a bed, but they’ll do just fine. I reach for the one on top and a curse slips out as the move tears at the new stitches.

Serena darts in front of me before throwing me a scowl over her shoulder. “I’ll get that. You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

“It’s a lawn chair. I’m not trying to bench press a car,tesoro.”

She stands on her tiptoes and hauls the thing down, grabbing some cushions from the top of the pile. Placing it on the ground between the Riva and the jet ski, she arranges the pastel peach pillows and motions for me to sit.

“Let me at least help with the other one.”

Serena shakes her head. “Sit your ass down, Antonio.”

Normally I’d obey, despite her commanding tone, but the idea of spending the night in wet clothes doesn’t sound remotely comfortable. “Do you mind if I…” I signal to my shirt which is already unbuttoned. At least the swim in the river got rid of some of the blood.

“Strip down?” Her brow lifts.

“There must be towels in here somewhere.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Nudity doesn’t bother me.” She yanks at my sweatshirt which is sticking to her wet form. “I’d love to get out of these bad boys, too.”

I move toward the row of cabinets along the wall, and just as I’d suspected find a pile of towels. The briny scent of the lakesticks to the cotton, but at least they’re dry. I offer two to Serena before taking one for myself and leaving my gun on top of the cabinet.

At this point, Serena could have easily run away multiple times if she wanted, but she hasn’t. And if she does, I’d rather her have a weapon. I try not to think on what that means.

Without the buttons fastened, I’m able to shrug out of the shirt unassisted, thankDio. I’m not certain I could resist her unbuttoning my shirt with only towels between us. I get to work on my pants as Serena lifts her arms and peels my sweatshirt off her wet body. Her lace bra leaves nothing to the imagination, her nipples so hard they could cut glass.

Merda. And just like that, I’m hard. Never mind the fact that the wound at my chest feels like it’s about to erupt despite the pain meds we found in the first-aid kit. I spin around before my pants drop to the floor, and she gets a front row view of my raging erection. Quickly wrapping the towel around my waist, I try to clear my mind of all lusty thoughts which is pretty damned impossible with Serena now in nothing but panties.

She knots the first towel beneath her arms and the second around her waist. Then she slips her hands beneath the fabric and shimmies out of her panties. The lace hits the floor, and heat races down to my cock.

I barely restrain a groan as she folds down to pick it up, flashing me a tempting view of her cleavage. Focus,coglione. Squeezing my eyes closed, I drop down onto the surprisingly comfortable lounger. Propping my feet up, I watch as she struggles to get the second sunbed down, my irritation flaring. I feel completely useless. This is not a sensation I’m familiar with and one that I vow never to revisit again.

Once she has the second sunbed situated beside mine, she folds onto it, placing an extra cushion at the bottom. She propsup her bad foot, and my stomach dips at the sight of her ankle. All the heat rushing to my cock evaporates, replaced by icy guilt.

“Cazzo, Serena, your ankle is twice the size it was yesterday.”

“Did you just call my foot fat?” She narrows her eyes at me, a playful smile parting her lips.

“This isn’t a joke.” That guilt expands, and I’m drowning in the knowledge that this whole fucking disaster is my fault. If I hadn’t kidnapped Serena for the sake of my own selfish vengeance, Mariuccia and Fabi would still be alive, Mamma’s beloved villa would still stand, and Serena wouldn’t have been caught in the middle of whatever the hell this is. “Fuck,” I snarl.

“I don’t usually fuck my captors, Toni.”

My gaze lifts to hers, that amusement still crinkling the corners of her eyes. Somehow, it tempers the building rage along with the suffocating guilt. “How are you taking this so well?”

She adjusts the towel, tucking it under her arm. “How else can I take it? We’re kind of stuck with each other for the next twenty-four hours, aren’t we?” She reaches for the lantern on the floor and hides it beneath the lounger, dimming the light. “Once we’re back in Milano, we go our separate ways, and this is all over.”

I nod slowly as much as I despise it. Dante was ready to pull out of the Ferrara territory as I requested. Or at least that was what Tony claimed. Had it all been an act to lull my suspicions? I thought he’d capitulated too easily…

“Antonio?”

“Hmm?”

She holds her hand out, steady gaze locked on my own. “Is it a deal? We get through this, and you release me?”

I remain silent for a long moment, not because I don’t agree with her but because the idea of letting her go makes it hard to breathe again. “Of course,tesoro.” I offer a tight smile. “It’s the least I can do considering everything I’ve put you through.”

My hand envelops hers, and I’m surprised at the tight grip. Someone has taught this woman the proper way to shake a hand. My fingers lace firmly around hers, our eyes locked for an endless moment. I’m reluctant to let go.

---