Page 49 of Bitter Prince
The front of the house faced a small garden, and the heart of Venice was a stone’s throw across the canal. As I approached the entryway, I ran my hand along the amethysts tucked into the walls. Papà had done some extensive restorations before bringing Mamma back all those years ago in hopes she’d love it here as much as he did. It didn’t exactly work out that way, and he learned quickly that glistening marble accents and modern architecture would never be enough. My chest twisted like it did every time I thought of this place. Pushing the heavy mahogany door open, I stepped inside and listened, holding my breath. I didn’t hear any movements. The Leone brothers had to still be in Papà’s office.
I bolted up the stairs and rushed into my room, grabbing my wallet and phone sitting on the nightstand. I stuffed them into my little shoulder purse before running back downstairs. Just as I was turning a corner in the hall near the study, I collided with something warm and solid.
“Ouch,” I muttered as the familiar scent washed over me, masculine and strong, and a breath escaped me. Amon Leone.
My cheeks blazed as I took a step back, my heart beating in my chest as our eyes met for a flicker of a heartbeat that seemed to stretch into many moments.
His gaze traveled down the length of me with a flicker of disapproval.
My stomach dipped like a tilt-a-whirl, and before I could think twice, the words were out of my mouth.
“What? Don’t like my outfit?” I raised my chin defiantly, challenging him to say something. I wore a thin-strapped pink dress that reached right above my knees. My hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, keeping my curls off my face and hair off my neck. When he didn’t answer, I tapped my pink polka-dotted ballet flats against the century-old marble. “Not appropriate or modest enough?”
He was larger than life in this hallway, swallowing all the space between us. It wasn’t my tendency to be snappy at people, but something about the way he stared at me, combined with those words from earlier, got to me.
He took a small step forward, one hand casually in his pocket. I stood my ground, refusing to be intimidated by him. The slightest bit of amusement flashed in his eyes.
“It’s more appropriate than the outfit you wore last time I saw you,” he drawled lazily, his voice warm and husky.
“By the pool?” I breathed.
“In my club.”
I blinked. The leather pants and strappy top I wore to his club covered more than this dress, but I didn’t bother correcting him.
Instead, I said, “I’m surprised you noticed considering you had your hands full with that woman hanging off you like a leech.”
I instantly wished I could reach out and take my words back. They made me sound jealous, like I spent way too much time thinking about him with other women.Don’t you?a voice whispered.
“Sounds like someone’s been thinking about me,” he drawled, and the voice I’d just quieted hummed in satisfaction.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” I muttered. He brought his hand up, a thumb running across his jaw almost as if he was attempting to hide a smile. But I must have misread it, because his eyes were as cool as ever.
He took a step forward. I took one back. His gaze fell down my body again, making me feel breathless. Nobody had ever had this impact on me. I wanted him to find me pretty. I wanted him to like me. Yet I couldn’t tell whether or not he did from the neutral expression he wore as his stare traveled back up from my flats.
“Where are you going?” Another step forward and my chest brushed against his torso. He was so much taller than me. The size difference should have intimidated me. It did, but not in a bad way. I liked our differences. He was hard, I was soft. He was golden-skinned and I was pale. His beautiful dark hair and eyes to my lighter ones. We were like the night sea and morning sky, meeting at the world’s end.
“Out.”
He dropped his hand to his side. “With boys?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.” Then, because I was mad, I added, “But we might pick up some fine gentlemen while in town.”
He watched me in an observant kind of way, as if looking for signs of truth. His heavy gaze reached mine, burning me. He gave his head a slow shake. “You better not. Not unless you want to cause their untimely death.”
I felt alive under his scrutiny and his threats. They should have appalled me, but my heart screamed that maybe he was jealous too.
The smart Reina would have gotten the heck out of here, but all my reason dissipated the moment Amon entered my life again.
“Are you asking me not to look at other men?” This time I took a step forward, bringing our bodies flush. His warmth seeped into me, and I had to fight the urge to sigh dreamily.
I waited, holding my breath while hope bloomed in my chest. It deflated as he stood wordlessly, hope turning into disappointment.
So I took a step to move around him. Before I could take another step, he grabbed my wrist.
“Would you listen?”
His grip felt like a band of fire. Heavy. Firm. Immovable, claiming me as his. It was the most innocent touch, yet it leaked something boiling hot into my bloodstream.
