Page 51 of Bitter Prince
One second I was daydreaming about Amon, the next a tug on my shoulder had me almost falling over.
“Ouch,” I whimpered, realizing too late my purse had been snatched. I shot up to my feet, but before I even made it five feet, I found my purse discarded on the ground. A crowd of tourists stared at something—or someone—while I bent to gather my things.
I peered inside to find my wallet and phone intact, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hello, cinnamon girl.” My heart stilled at the sound of the voice.
Slowly, I lifted my head and found Amon standing in front of me. He was so good-looking, I had to stifle a sigh. Thick dark hair, high cheekbones, dark eyes with secrets they could barely contain. Broad shoulders. Clean, sculpted lines. All six-three of him, clad in jeans and a white shirt showing off his muscles. He filled out the jeans and his clothes better than any man.
We only stared at each other, and as my breath began to slow beneath his penetrating silence, I forced a word past my lips. “Amon.”
I noticed his brother next to him. His gaze flicked to me, disinterested and possibly agitated. Dante was beautiful, but in a completely different way. The Leone brothers were intense, but where Amon was breathtakingly beautiful, Dante was dark and cold.
“What? No hello for me? Is the cinnamon girl grouchy?”
He called me “cinnamon girl” all those years ago. I wasn’t even fond of cinnamon, so why did he keep calling me that?
“Hello, Amon,” I greeted him, flashing him a smile. “Happy now?”
I shook my head and made my way back to our table. Amon and Dante followed right behind me, their presence warm at my back, while girls stared at them.
Don’t worry, girls, I’ll handle the mugger myself. I sat down in my spot.
“Holy shit, it’s your hot boyfriend,” Raven whisper-yelled, nudging me. A flush crept up my neck.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I hissed. “Stop calling him that.”
My eyes found him again. It was difficult not to stare at him. Under the warm glow of the Venice sun, we stared at each other. His presence was like a shadow, a warm reprieve from the heat pummeling the concrete. It pulled me in so effortlessly that I had to fight the urge to lean into him.
The reminder of Papà’s behavior in front of him and Dante earlier permeated the air and it felt like a cold shower. Our kiss should’ve been enough to ease my insecurities, but I leaned back to put some distance between us anyway. Amon was having none of that though, because he reached out and grabbed my hand.
“Come with me.” I stood up, eager to obey him, and my feet were already moving.
His rough palm held mine like it belonged to him. LikeIbelonged to him. The touch burned, spreading a warm sensation all through me, and I couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to have his body pressed against mine.
It took me a moment to find my sanity and voice to speak.
“Where are we going?” I asked breathlessly at the same time Phoenix ran up to me.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. “You can’t just leave with this guy.”
I pulled my hand out of Amon’s rough palm and already missed his touch.
“I’ll be safe,” I said, signing to my sister. “Right, Amon?”
We both turned to look at the boy-turned-man who had fascinated me from the moment I’d met him. He gave a curt nod before looking off into the distance.
“Okay, that’s reassuring,” Phoenix signed, her movements jerky, signaling her agitation. Her expression was sarcastic at Amon’s non-response, and she had no qualms about glaring at him.
“You know who I’m going with, so if he kills me, it’s a no-brainer,” I tried to joke. She didn’t laugh, and Amon didn’t bother assuring her of anything. “I’ll be right back. Just stay with the girls,” I instructed my sister.
Reluctantly, she walked back to where Raven, Isla, and Athena sat, glancing over her shoulder every few steps. Dante stayed behind too, saying something to Phoenix, who flipped him off in the universal language.
I reached for Amon’s hand and slipped my fingers between his, following him down the busy, narrow streets of the carless city. He took an abrupt left turn into an empty alleyway while a canal splashed softly against the stone.
Amon stopped at the stone alcove and I stared in amazement around me. The buzz of the city was so faint here, it felt as if we were in a different city altogether. Glancing to my right, far down the canal, there was a bridge full of people taking pictures of the ancient city, oblivious to the two of us.
“How did you know this was here?” I asked as he released my hand and leaned against the stone wall of someone’s home.
