Page 53 of Ruined By the Enemy
“However—” He takes a deliberate step forward. “I can tell you don’t buy your own story.”
I plant my feet, forcing myself not to move. My shoulders are squared, my chin lifted. Don’t back down. Not now.
He steps closer, and the heat from his body brushes against mine. His breath grazes my cheek, and I swear I can feel it pulse through my bloodstream.
I don’t blink. I don’t flinch. But inside? I’m a goddamn mess.
My eyes betray me, dropping to his arms, folded tightly across his chest. His hands aren’t on me. They haven’t moved. But I remember the feeling of them being like muscle memory.
And right now? Standing this close to him, with his voice curling down my spine and his mouth just inches from mine?
I’m a puddle of bad decisions that sound dangerously appealing.
My voice is hoarse when I finally speak. “Is this part of the lockdown? The intimidation tactic?”
“No,” he says softly. It feels like a tactic to make me lose guard; if it is, it’s working. “This is me saying that you know better, Sophie.”
His gaze drops to my lips for a split second, and my pulse kicks hard. “You’re going to need to explain what you mean, because I’m not following.”
Dom shakes his head, pulling back. “You’ll stay here until I’m sure everything’s safe. As long as you work for me,” he puts up a finger before I can argue, “your safety is my responsibility. If you don’t like it, you’re more than welcome to submit your resignation letter.”
Oh, he’s good.I don’t know whether to be furious, impressed, or angry at myself that I let it show how much I needed this job.
I could’ve found another way to get it, instead of responding when he asked, “What do you want then, Miss Greco?” with, “A job.”
I fold my arms and bite my lip hard, pushing back a wave of frustration. “You’re a cruel man, Domenico. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a long list of people out there looking for an opportunity to wreck you.”
And I’ll be at the top of that list.
His nonchalant shrug infuriates me, setting off an annoyed spark in my chest, but it quickly flames out, replaced by a small gasp when his thumb pulls my lip from my teeth. “You’ll hurt yourself,” he says.
My eyes roll to the back of my head, even as my stomach dips with need and a deep pull stirs between my thighs. I clench them without thinking, only to have his gaze nosedive at that moment.
When it eventually pans back to my face, Iknowthat heknows.Thankfully, my stomach’s loud grumble and the housekeeper’s timely presence save the day.
“Please make breakfast for Miss Greco, Patrice,” Dom tells her, slipping his hand into his pocket.
She nods.
When she disappears into the kitchen, Dom turns his eyes back to me, and they’ve gone darker. “If you try to leave,” he sayscalmly, “I’ll handcuff you to the bedframe in the room you slept in.”
My breath stutters, caught somewhere between a gasp and disbelief.
“And,” he continues, “it won’t be to repeat what happened last night.”
He leans in, just slightly—close enough for his words to graze my skin. “I assure you, you won’t enjoy it this time.”
A chill ripples down my spine, even as heat coils low in my stomach. He’s warning me, not teasing, but my body can’t seem to tell the difference.
Then he turns without another word and walks off like the conversation is over.
It’s not. Not even close. But the other part of the conversation is one I need to have with myself.
Chapter Fourteen
Dom
The files on my desk, the photographs scattered around, and the contents of the papers piled in a corner tell me nothing I want to know.
