Page 22 of The Rise of Saint (The Sins of Saint 1)

All I could do was hold my breath when he took my chin between his fingers and forced me to face him. His gaze dropped to my mouth as he placed a thumb on my lips, pressing hard as he slowly dragged it down. He bit his own lip as if he was starved to taste mine. The air grew laden with sexual hunger and primal desires that suffocated the fear, and panic with venomous seduction. I had no idea what was happening, or why my body reacted to his touch the way it did. But in that moment, I was helpless against it.

His thigh stirred between my legs, and every muscle in my core tightened, causing my eyes to roll shut. My lips made a light smacking sound as his thumb finally let go. “Trust me,segreto. There is no bigger devil than me.”

If his goal was to elicit fear, it wasn’t working. Not while his hard body was pressed against me, his thigh between my legs, and his lips hovering so close to mine. But if his goal was to seduce me into doing his bidding, I’d say he was on the right damn road, close to accomplishing it.

Slipping my arm between our bodies, I gradually moved it up inch by inch, feeling his ripped body through the fabric of his dress shirt. Blue swirls turned to dark spirals of slate as our eyes remained locked. I reached his chest and I took a few seconds to admire every curve of hard muscle with my fingertips before pushing myself away from him, the absence of his thigh causing my core to clench.

With my lips pursed, I took another step back, needing some distance from him, desperate to smother the flames that burned inside me. “Now, you need to tell me what it is you think I should know.”

A lazy grin turned into a wicked smile. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Does it matter?”

My eyes cut down to his crotch, the fabric tight and strained around his visible hard-on. I swallowed hard, clenching my thighs yet again. The look on his face was that of sheer amusement. He knew exactly what I was looking at, my cheeks probably giving away how flustered I really was.

Straightening his suit jacket, he cleared his throat and went to take his seat behind his desk.

“Sit.”

“I think I want to stand.” I was still struggling to breathe normally.

“Sit. Down.”

“Jesus,” I muttered, reluctantly putting my ass in the armchair.

He leaned back, looking relaxed yet fucking almighty—like a king about to burn an entire city to the ground without blinking. “Have you ever heard of Torres Shipping?”

“No. Should I have?”

“One would think, since it’s your family’s company.”

My heart fluttered like a bewildered bird trapped in a panic.

Saint took my silence as his cue to continue. “Your family is one of the richest families in Italy, Mila.”

“What? That can’t be.”

The expression on his face remained unchanged, and I knew it wasn’t bullshit.

I shook my head. “If they are so rich, why…why did they give me away?” I always thought the reason my family didn’t keep me was obvious. No money. No means of taking care of me.

“Are you ready for a little history lesson?” Saint grinned, and chills ran down my spine, warning knocking at the back of my skull. That was the moment I knew the conversation that would follow was going to change my entire life. It was there in his eyes, the way he looked at me—like a devil about to tell a saint hell was waiting.

The dark walls of his study started to close in around me, and I desperately wanted to open the shutters of the window behind him to inhale some fresh air.

Saint placed a hand on his crossed leg. “Eighty-six years ago, a deal was made between your family and the Russo family.”

“Who are they?”

“Shut up and listen,” he warned, the low tenor of his voice making it clear there was no room for debating. “The deal would ensure the merger of two of the most powerful families in Italy.”

I sat back. “What was the deal?”

His finger started tapping again, and annoyance flashed in his eyes, a pointed stare pinning me to my seat. “The firstborn daughter of the Torres family would marry the firstborn Russo son.”

“What?” I blurted. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious.”

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