Page 12 of Dangerous Vows

“Amara.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, and amusement flickers in his expression. “I’m taking you somewhere you’ll either love or hate. Maybe you should be afraid.”

“I look in the face of fear, and I laugh,” I joke, but it’s true. My father is a scary, sadistic man, and I rebel against him even though it comes at a price.

“Perhaps you do,” he replies, amused.

I reach into the tiny purse still dangling across me and pull out my phone. I text Sarah an update so she won’t worry about me—unless I don’t make it home.

“Texting a roommate or your boyfriend?”

“Roommate. I’m no cheater. You?”

“I’m a one-woman man because I’ve never been with a woman who kept my interest long enough to commit. You?”

I’m not surprised by this. I’m sure he’s a player, and all it implies. But I admire his honesty.

“Same.” It’s a short answer, but it’s the truth. Maybe we have more in common than I thought. I assumed he’d be an arrogant prick and flaunt his wealth audaciously, but perhaps I’m wrong about him. There’s more to him than meets the eye.

The Hummer sharply turns, gliding through quieter and more exclusive streets. I recognize the area—it’s upscale, overlooking Central Park—but no houses are around.

So where the hell are we going?

When we pull into a drop-off area with a valet, I realize I’m looking at the Plazzo Romano Hotel. Everyone in the city knows the Borrelli family owns it. Last year, there were huge hearings on the height variances, and it’s rumored some officials were bribed.

It’s the highest hotel, and it sits on the edge of Central Park— it’s newand massive. Its opulent presence gleams under the bright lights and rivals the Waldorf-Astoria. The gold Borrelli logo towers above, shining like a crown—an unmistakable symbol of power and untouchable wealth.

The vehicle stops, and Pietro steps out, offering me his hand. I hesitate for a second before placing my palm in his. His grip is firm and warm. He has a commanding touch, and I have the feeling he always gets what he wants. And tonight, he wants me.

As we approach the hotel entrance, I find it is exactly what I expected—elegance blended with a modern vibe. It’s the kind of place where people make deals over expensive whiskey and ruin lives with a single handshake.

He doesn’t stop at the front desk. Instead, he pulls out a sleek, black keycard, embossed with the hotel’s emblem. VIP. Of course. He swipes it at the private elevator, and the doors slowly slide open. We step into the elevator, and I face him as the doors close.

When he presses the PH button, I raise an eyebrow. “Penthouse treatment? Should I be flattered or concerned?”

Pietro smirks. “Depends. What excites you more? Are you scared yet?” he taunts me.

“Not even close,” I scoff. Who am I, and what have I done with my everyday version of myself? I didn’t know I had a wild, carefree side inside me, but here I am, throwing caution to the wind.

I’m sure this is my attempt to have some control over my life. I might not be living under my father’s thumb, but he’s still controlling me from afar because I know he has men looking for me.

But Pietro feeds my wild side. His eyes flicker with something dangerous and intriguing. “Good.”

He cages me in, arms braced on either side of my head, and suddenly, my back is against the elevator wall. I can’t move—nor do I want to.

His clean, musky cologne tantalizes my senses. My heart races as his lips cover mine. Desire pools between my legs. His kiss is warm, hungry—and I welcome the slow invasion of his tongue, meeting it with a need I can’t hide. The heat between us makes it impossible toignore the fire sparking in my belly—the kind I’ve been missing my entire life.

I kiss him back as my hands snake around his neck, and my fingers run into his thick, dark hair. His kiss is more demanding as the temperature in the elevator rises. His hand grabs my boob and flicks a thumb over the thin material. My nipple pebbles, and my knees buckle with his touch.

The ride to the top is silent, except for the low hum of the elevator. A thick, undeniable tension coils between us. He moves into me, using his knee to part my legs as he peers intently into my eyes. It’s a power play he’s perfected as he watches me, waiting. Maybe he’s expecting my hesitation.

I tilt my head. “You bring all your one-night mistakes here?”

His lips twitch. “Only the ones worth remembering.”

I chuckle. His lips are so close to mine that I smell the liquor on his warm breath. “Damn, that was smooth. It’s almost too smooth. I should be worried.”

His body is flush with mine, and his hard cock presses against my body. He murmurs, “I told you. You should be concerned. I’m not a nice man.”

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