Page 61 of Dangerous King
Shadow finally releases the pant leg and sits back, puffing up his little chest like a victor. He barks once and plants himself firmly between us, staring up at Enrico like he's still deciding whether or not to trust him.
"He's protective," he states, gazing at the puppy appreciatively. "He doesn't know who's safe yet."
He crouches in front of me, sending sensations through my nerve endings that make my skin tingle. His fingers gently brush a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. The gesture is soft, intimate, and makes my stomach flutter like millions of tiny bubbles were let loose, teasing my insides.
Shadow growls faintly in response.
Enrico holds out a hand. Palm up. Patient.
It takes a long moment, but eventually, Shadow sniffs it. Then, with exaggerated disdain, the puppy licks the edge of his palm and walks away like he's doing him a favor. Enrico watches him go, clearly torn between pride and humiliation.
"He's warming up to you," I offer.
"He bit me."
"A love bite," I tease.
He gives me a sideways glance, then rises from his crouch and brushes the grass off his slacks before finally sitting beside me under the tree. He doesn't say anything right away. Just stretches his legs out, crosses them at the ankle, and rests hiselbows on his knees. The silence stretches between us, warm and pulsing.
Shadow lies down a few feet away, but his eyes stay locked on Enrico.
"He's still watching you," I whisper, amused.
"So are you," Enrico says, not looking at me.
My breath catches.
"I'm not sure which one of you is more dangerous," he adds, his voice lower now. Rougher.
"Definitely him," I murmur, even as my pulse starts to race.
"Maybe," Enrico says, turning his head. His gaze is heavy, like it presses straight through skin and bone. "But you're the one I can't stop thinking about."
The world stills around us. The air. The trees. Even Shadow, who lets out a sleepy sigh and rolls onto his back.
But me?
My heart is doing somersaults in my chest.
"You shouldn't say things like that," I whisper. My voice is unsteady because I've never had a man say things like that to me. Not one. Not ever.
Enrico leans in just enough to crowd my senses. Just enough to make the air between us thrum.
"I shouldn't want you either," he murmurs, his voice a low caress. "But here we are."
He takes a strand of my hair between his fingers and lets it slide through them, slow and deliberate.
"You're ten years younger than me," he says, almost to himself. "You've barely lived outside that house. And I'm not exactly safe."
I try to steady my breath, but it's useless. "I've never even been on a date," I admit, the words small but true.
That gets his attention. His eyes flick to mine, sharp, assessing, and… pained? He contemplates me like he's seeing me for the first time. Not as a curiosity. But as something rare and untouched.
A muscle ticks in his jaw. "Jesus, Piccolina."
I force a small, nervous laugh. "I guess I'm not very tempting after all."
He's deadly still for a second. Then he leans in, so close I feel the heat of his breath when he speaks.
