Page 20 of The Rise of Saint (The Sins of Saint 1)

Purposely, I left the door open and stepped inside. “If you know me so well, you’d know I’m not the type to get kidnapped and submit to some sick bastard who gets pleasure out of fucking sex slaves.”

He snorted. “Is that why you think you’re here, to be mysex slave?”

“I’ve heard enough kidnapping stories to think it might be, yes.”

“A sex slave. I have to say, the thought is quite,” he sucked a breath through his teeth, “titillating.” His gaze swept down my body, studying me, unclothing me. Terrifying me. Everything about this man screamed power and savagery. Raw seduction amplified by his stately presence.

His hands dropped to the edge of the rich mahogany desk, a long finger tapping against the wood.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap. It was almost the exact rhythm of my heartbeat, an ominous prelude of what was to come.

I shifted from one leg to the other. “What does the wordsegretomean?”

“It’s Italian for secret.”

“Is that what I am, a secret?”

With a wicked grin, he replied, “You have no idea.”

The way he responded unnerved me, but I tried my best to not show it. “You said you had answers.”

“I also said you should take a shower.”

With a shaky hand, I flipped wild curls over my shoulder. “I guess answers take precedence over hygiene.”

A smile appeared on his face, his chiseled jaw ticking with the movement. “You’re not very good at following orders, are you?”

“I’m not good at being kidnapped either.”

His leather shoes creaked as he pushed himself off the desk, gesturing for me to sit in the black armchair in front of him. “Take a seat, Mila.”

“I prefer to stand.”

He tilted his head slightly as he rounded his desk. “That attitude of yours is sure to get you in a lot of trouble.”

“More trouble than I’m already in?”

Sapphires beaming with tempting darkness. “Much more.”

Two words. Simple words. Yet it carried the power of a hurricane.

“Sit. Down.” His jaw clenched and eyes blazed. It left no room for questioning and awakened a stirring need to obey.

Pursed lips and shoulders no longer squared with confidence, I took a seat, refusing to break eye contact.

“Good girl.” There was a hint of amusement in his remark.

“Don’t call me that.”

Without looking away, he tossed a brown envelope on his desk in front of me. “Your family. Everything you need to know is in there.”

It was like swallowing glass. “My family?”

“Yes.” He took a seat. “Open it.”

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