Page 23 of The Temptation
He sighs and leans forward, resting his forehead on my shoulder. “She had no right to do that.”
“What? Give me pleasure?”
“Yes.”
“I know …youshould’ve been the one doing it, but you’re too stubborn and pigheaded to admit it.”
He glances up at me, and something in his eyes tugs at my heart. He looks … pained. “You know I can’t do that.”
“You’re a grown-arse man. You can do whatever the hell you like.”
“I am the underboss of the Mancini Cosa Nostra. My loyalty, first and foremost, is to myFamiglia.”
“Did Dante tell you not to touch me?”
He turns his face away and lifts one shoulder as he expels all the air from his lungs, which is enough for me.
“I’m going to kill him,” I say as I try to stand again, but Romeo holds firm.
“You are not going to do any such thing.”
“Watch me,” I growl.
“You’re a Mafia princess, whether you like it or not. Heis only looking out for your best interests. I know all about that ridiculous ritual your father made him and Arabella go through.”
“My father is dead!” I deadpan. “That stupid ritual died right alongside him.”
“You are a feisty little thing this morning.”
“Do you blame me? People have told me what I can and can’t do all my life. I’m sick to death of it. I’m nineteen now. I’m an adult. I can legally drink and vote in this country.”
“You can’t vote if you’re not an Australian citizen.”
“One day I will be. But that’s beside the point.”
He sighs. “All of that aside, I’m thirty-two, Lucia. You’re far too young for me.”
“Age is just a number.”
“You’re barely legal.”
“Barelybeing the operative word here.”
“Our breakfast is getting cold.”
“My breakfast,” I retort. “I didn’t make you any, remember?”
“You like looking after me, Luc. Even if you’re mad, I know you won’t let me starve.”
“You’re right, I am mad. So damn mad. And frustrated. I was brought to the brink two nights in a row, only for you to ruin it before I reached my end goal. I can’t even go to my room now and get the release I so desperately need because you shot Big-O … you blew her to smithereens.”
When his body bobs with silent laughter, my elbow shoots back, connecting with his ribs. “Let me go,” I grumble, wiggling around on his lap to try and free myself from his hold.
“Please don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Move around on my lap like that.”
