Page 83 of Savage Prince

I don’t even want to consider the obvious here… Antonio may be dead well before that. My father is a loose cannon and there’s no telling what he’ll do now that he knows who I’m with. He could be on his way here right now, ready to burn Milano to the ground just to find me. And Antonio is going to be his number one target.

As much as I’d like to believePapàwouldn’t kill him if I asked nicely, I’m not stupid. And the idea of Antonio dead has an invisible noose tightening around my throat. I’m so lost in the grisly image, I don’t emerge from the bleak thoughts until the engine cuts off and Antonio is leaning across me trying to open my door.

“I can open my own door,” I tease.

“Just wanted to prove chivalry isn’t dead.”

But it might be soon.

The stupid thought streaks across my mind before I can stop it, and heat pricks the corners of my eyes.Dio, what is wrong with me? I must be PMSing or something. Finally opening the door, I find Antonio waiting with our meager belongings. Glancing around the quiet garage, I notice the sleek elevator we’re parked in front of. Unlike the others around the large space, there are no buttons, only a biometric scanner of some sort.

Antonio exhales a labored breath, as if he’s been running for days, and a hint of fear lances through my chest. Shit. It was the sex, wasn’t it? It was too much for him… “Are you okay?” I inch closer, and my palm instinctively moves to his chest, but not close enough to the wound to jostle it.

“Yes, I’m fine. The wound is fine.”

“That’s a lot of fines…”

A wry grin curls up the corners of his mouth. “It does seem like I’ve been saying that a lot lately, haven’t I?”

I nod, but I could say the same for me. And yet somehow, I don’t think anything will ever be quite fine again for either of us.

“I want to talk about what happened in the car?—”

I press my fingers to his lips, cutting him off. Because whatever he’s about to say I’m not ready for. Especially not right now, in this garage. “There’s nothing to say,” I blurt. “It was just fun, right?”

“Mmm.” His head dips, an indecipherable look flashing across the tense set of his jaw. “I only wanted to say that if you want to talk about it, we can.”

“I’m good, but thanks.” I’m sonotgood. I don’t think I’ll ever get that orgasm out of my head. The craziest thing is that it was completely vanilla… sex in a car is not something that typicallyrocks my world. And yet with Antonio, it was the hottest thingever.

The elevator doors glide open before I say anything stupid, and a man in pajamas and glasses leans against the metal wall. He runs his hand through tousled auburn locks, grinning ruefully. “After years of not speaking to me, I get an emergency text a few days ago, then you appear at my door at three o’clock in the morning,amico?”

Antonio shrugs, the closest thing to embarrassment I’ve seen streaking across his face. “I’m sorry. I hope you know I wouldn’t have done it if there’d been any other choice.”

“I figured.” His gaze chases to mine, a slow, steady perusal. “I assumesheis the reason for all of this.”

Antonio’s head dips, and now I’m the one almost blushing. It takes a lot to embarrass me, but there’s something about his look that feels too personal. Like he knows things about me…

“Follow me.”

CHAPTER 41

MAKE IT GOOD

Serena

The elevator doors open right into Valerio’s penthouse loft, showcasing a stunning view of downtown Milano. It’s no Manhattan skyline, but it’s not bad. The apartment is pristine with white leather couches and sleek, minimalistic furnishings. He ushers Antonio and me into the great room, the vaulted ceilings soaring with no end.

“Nice place,” I murmur. After the last few days of sleeping on a sun lounger, I am so looking forward to a real bed. And I can already bet the mattress is going to be heavenly.

“Grazie.” Valerio tips his head, and his chic retro glasses slide down the bridge of his nose. “Please, make yourself comfortable.” He motions to the impeccable living room, but after days without a proper shower, I’m scared to sit on the spotless leather. Apparently, Antonio is too because he remains at my side.

“I’m good standing. Long car ride and all.” I perch beside the oversized marble island, dropping my purse on the barstool.

“I appreciate this, Val,” Antonio whispers.

“I’m sure you do.” He grins, but there’s something not entirely friendly about it. I can’t help but wonder about his earlier comment. Why hadn’t Antonio talked to his friend for years?

My abductor, turned I-don’t-even-know-what, inches closer, his hand sliding onto the small of my back. I hate how much comfort that faint touch brings. And I despise the fact that I can’t keep my body from leaning into him.

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