Page 188 of The Billionaire's Secret
I read the text. "Who sent it, you think?"
"Antonio?" he growls.
"Perhaps." I lean my head back into the seat. "It’s confusing. Why would he ask you to call off those following him, then kidnap me, only to send you my whereabouts? And how did you know exactly where to look?"
His jaw tics. "When we were abducted, that’s the house where we were held. I should have bought it and torn it down a long time ago. Guess none of us wanted anything to do with it. After that incident, we simply wanted to put it behind us and move on." His knuckles turn white.
"Saint," I turn to him, "Why...would he send you to the same place?"
"A warning about what would happen if I screwed with the Mafia?" He growls, "He has no idea how personal he's made this. No way, am I letting him go without having my vengeance. He dared touch you, Gigi. He's going to pay for it."
His harsh tone slices down my spine, my nipples bead, and lust curls in my belly. Hell, hearing him all worked up on my behalf is way too much of a turn on to resist.
The phone in my hand—his phone—pings again. I stiffen and my heart begins to thud. I glance down at the screen.
"What does it say?"
I wet my lips. Read, and re-read the message.
"Aloud, Gigi."
Maybe it's the fact that he uses my nickname, or the way his voice stretches with tension, or the command in his tone that whips across my skin and makes my pussy clench. Shit, I want every dirty thing he can do to me again. Is this any way for a pregnant woman to be thinking? Is it the hormones? The fact that I am carrying his baby, that’s making me so aware of his nearness.
His voice lowers to a hush, "Don’t keep me waiting." That dominant edge of his intent slices through my barriers, reducing me to a trembling mess inside.
I swallow, then scan the words again, "You found her. Don’t let her go."
"What?" he snaps.
"That’s it." I dig my heels into the floor, "That’s all it says."
He stops at a traffic light, then snatches the phone from me. He scans the screen again, then swears under his breath, "The hell does that mean?"
I twist my fingers in my lap, "Apparently, Antonio has a conscience after all."
"What do you mean?" The signal turns green, he presses down on the accelerator, and the car leaps forward. My breath catches; my heart thuds in my chest.
"Sorry," he mutters. "It’s just— I don’t get it. Did he stage this, to get us to speak again?"
"Seems that way," I huff. "He was never an easy man to comprehend."
"Don’t talk about him."
A warm sensation blooms my chest, "You jealous?"
He laughs, the sound bitter, "My wife has a history with another man, a past I don’t know anything about. What do you think?"
"I was a virgin."
His knuckles on the wheel tighten. "There are other ways to have a relationship, other than a physical one."
"And you think that’s what I had with Antonio?"
"You tell me."
"He was my contact with the Mafia. He's the one who negotiated a deal with them to ensure Nina's release—in return for getting him the USB with the video clip of you being held in that room."
He makes a noise deep in his throat.
