Page 61 of Savage Prince

She finally releases me and sits back on her lounge chair with a contented sigh. “We should sleep.”

“Yes, we should.” I reach under her chair and turn off the lantern, bathing the old structure in darkness. As I retreat, my hand brushes her bare leg, and a sharp gasp echoes through the silence. “Scusi,” I murmur.

“No, it’s fine.” Her voice rises a few octaves. “Your hand is like ice.”

I rub my hands together, noticing the chill for the first time and yet, my body feels like it’s on fire. Maybe that ankle hadn’t extinguished all the brewing heat between us.

“Do you need another towel?” She’s up on her feet again and that damned guilt rises.

“No, I need you to stay off that foot.”

“I’m fine,” she grits out and grabs another towel from the cabinet before whirling around. “I took the rest of the pain meds in that first-aid kit, so I barely feel a thing.” She twirls around on her good foot. “See?”

The towel serving as her top comes undone, gifting me a perfect view of her breasts, despite the encroaching darkness. Bullet wound or not, I jolt straight up so I can—do the polite thing and retrieve her towel from the floor.

Forcing my gaze down, I hand it to her without meeting the eyes I can feel boring into me. Does she want me to look? No, it can’t be.

“Thanks.” She takes the towel, and only when I’m sure I’ve given her enough time to cover herself up do I lie back down. “You didn’t have to close your eyes. I told you, I’m not embarrassed by nudity, mine or anyone else’s.”

“Still…” I grind out.

“I appreciate the gentlemanly effort.”

“It’s the least you deserve.” I blow out a breath and force my lids closed. Her soft breaths fill the room, an electric buzz in the air that I just can’t ignore. I should be exhausted. I’ve been shot and nearly burned alive, but the fact that Serena is half-naked beside me has my blood pumping and my cock thickening.

I keep my eyes closed and attempt every trick to force myself to sleep, but it just doesn’t come.

“Psst, Toni, are you awake?” Serena leans closer, her sweet strawberry scent replacing the briny smell in the air.

“Yes,” I murmur.

“I can’t sleep.” She rolls over to face me, and I mirror her movement despite the pull at the stitches.

“It’s the adrenaline, just try to relax, it should pass soon.”

She sits up and slides to the edge of the lounger. “Or I can try the old bottle of Sambuca I found in that cabinet beside the towels.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup. Someone must have had a secret stash down here.” She’s on her feet before I can stop her.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea…”

“Don’t be such a worrier. We’re safe. Who’s going to think to look for us here?” Pushing the towels aside, she unearths the hidden gem. After the day we’ve had, a little alcohol to numb the pain sounds like exactly what I need. But it would be risky and irresponsible. It wouldn’t only numb the pain but also my reaction time, and that could be the difference between life and death. For both of us.

She saunters over, her blonde hair cascading across her bare shoulders illuminated by the sliver of moon coming in through the skylight. She holds the bottle out with one hand, the other keeping her towel up. “Come on, just one drink?”

I sit up, wincing through the pain. “I don’t know?—”

“I think you owe me.”

“How will a drink make up for any of the shit I dragged you into?”

Her shoulder lifts slowly before falling. “At least we can end our little kidnapping adventure on a high note.”

My brow lifts at the flirtatious gleam in her eye. “How do you know you’d enjoy a night of drinking with me?”

“I don’t.” She drops down into the sunbed beside me and her knees brush mine. “But I’m curious to meet the old Antonio, and I think with a few drinks, I could coax him out.”

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