Page 54 of The Vanishing
“I swear to God…” Matteo sighs, his shoulders falling. “I’d drop to my knees and eat his ass right now if he’d let me.”
“You are atmaximumcapacity.” Cellina holds her palm up, her eyes wide. “Calm down.Not appropriate.”
“He’s too perfect and fucking gorgeous,” Matteo goes on, narrowing his eyes. “He probably bites his toenails, or he likes to be pissed on when he’s having sex—some unexpected, freaky shit… I’ll do it if he wants—”
“Matteo,stop.” Cellina laughs.
Matteo lifts his chin, a charismatic smile plastered on his lips. He raises his beautifully arched brow. “He’s making a beeline over here, and I doubt it’s because ofmysecond-gen ass.”
A moment later, Giovanni is in front of them. Classic black suit, crisp white shirt, no tie. His hazel-green eyes shine and his charming game face is in action, the frown lines barely noticeable.
“Good evening, your grace.” Matteo offers a smooth, shallow bow from his waist. Cellina never calls him by formal titles. Never bows either. The thought of doing so is weird, but she figures what the hell? She’ll give it a try in present company.
Cellina nods. “Your grace.” Giovanni’s expression shifts into a look of disgust as he draws back, like she called him something offensive. The mask has slipped, but he quickly takes a breath.
“Good evening. Are you both enjoying the party?”
“Little Miss Lina just arrived, but I’ve been here a minute.” Her friend smiles, his voice playful. “I need another drink. Would you like one, your grace? I’ll get it for you.”
“Thank you, Matteo,” Giovanni says. “Scotch on the rocks, please.”
Matteo nods as he raises his eyebrow toward Cellina. “Amaretto sour?”
“Thanks, dear.” Cellina lifts her shoulder, flirty.
“Don’t talk about me while I’m gone—unless it’s about how incredible I am.” He winks as he turns and walks toward the bar. Giovanni’s brows drop into the usual frown.
“Do notbow at me or call me that.”
Cellina scrunches her nose. “Is that an official order as my realm leader?”
“I hate it—especially from you.” He takes a deep breath, running his large hand into the back of his honey-brown waves.
“I hate that you left without speaking to me on Sunday,” Cellina counters. “What the hell, G? That’s two weeks in a row. Are you upset that I kicked you that Sunday? Was my head massage offensive?” She smirks, trying to ease the odd tension growing between them.
He takes another deep breath, but as he does so, his eyes flicker, shameless as he scans the length of her body. Top to bottom, then back up again. Cellina shifts her stance, suddenly more aware of his raw masculine energy and feeling the usual spark in her stomach and between her legs.
“You look very nice,” he says, his voice low.
“Thanks…” She clears her throat, focusing. “What’s with you? You were fine a couple weeks ago, when we were in Japan. Now you’re being… Is thisshy? What are you doing?”
“There was a barrier between us before,” he says, looking away. “But you keep lowering it. It’s different now.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“For some vampires… in most circumstances. Probably.” Giovanni turns his broad body to the side and stretches his neck, looking for Matteo. As if standing alone with her is somehow uncomfortable.
Cellina glares. “What does that mean?”
“It means what I said.”
“Why are you acting like this?”
“I’m not acting like anything.”
“Great, so you’re going to just repeat and deflect everything I say—”
“Because Iwantyou, Cellina. But I can’t have you.”
