Page 29 of The Fall of Sin (The Sins of Saint 2)

Reluctantly, I pulled away and touched her cheek. “Why? Why would you trust me when I have given you no reason to?”

“I’m not sure. I know you still have your own agenda, but I also know things aren’t so black and white between us anymore.”

Her eyes remained on mine for a few seconds longer as if she tried to reach into my mind so she could figure me out. Find all the answers to questions that burned her tongue. But I had no answers for her…at least not yet.

I touched her bottom lip with my thumb, and I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to be inside her again. The more I tasted her, sampled her, fucked her, the more I craved her.

My hand slipped from her cheek, down her shoulder and arm, our fingers twined together as she stepped back.

“I need to freshen up.”

“You look perfect.”

Her mouth curved at the corners. “No one can look their best after the night we had.”

“Fine,” I conceded with a smirk. “Go freshen up and make yourself look good for your husband.”

She let out a snicker, and I watched her walk down the stairs.

“Mila?” I called after her, and she looked up from the spiral staircase. “Wear something red.”

She smiled. “Yes, sir.”

The word ‘sir’ rolled off her tongue, and it instantly made my dick hard. I had to grab the rail behind me in order to stop me from grabbing her and fucking her all over the leftover antipasto platter.

The red fabric of her dress twirled around her ankles as she turned and walked down the stairs. I admired every part of her until she disappeared below deck, and I turned to stare out over the ocean behind us. Elena was right. If this thing between Mila and me continued to intensify, the day would come for me to make a decision, to choose between revenge or my wife. But until that day, I would do whatever it took to find a way for me to have both.

11

Mila

I closedthe bedroom door behind me and leaned back. A part of me struggled to believe that what happened last night wasn’t a dream. For the first time Saint showed me a side of him I had never seen before.

A softer side. Gentle. Caring. Trusting.

He wasn’t the cruel man who didn’t blink at the thought of killing in cold blood. He wasn’t the man who forced me to walk naked down the hall of his house. The man who made me shower while he watched. And he sure wasn’t the man who had pinned me down on the dining table after making me sign every document he needed to own me and my ten percent shares of Torres Shipping.

There were butterflies in my belly and a dreamy smile on my face, for Christ’s sake. How did I go from hating him to falling for him?

After a long, soothing shower, I stood in front of the closet with a towel wrapped around me. Saint wanted me to wear red, but among all the designer labels and thousands of dollars’ worth of clothing there wasn’t a single red item. How was that for a giant fuck-you from my friend Murphy? I decided to go with a summer jumpsuit romper, the neckline accentuated with a gold zipper that dipped low between my breasts. On the one hand, I was slightly disappointed at the lack of attire in Saint’s favorite color. But on the other hand, I secretly liked the fact that not wearing red would come across as defiance in his eyes. It was, after all, part of the game between us—me defying him.

While I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I thought about Raphael. My brother. It was as if now, whenever I saw my own face, I saw his too. A part of me wished there was a way I could get to know him, spend time with him, and maybe even get the chance to meet my mother. But I saw the hate that ticked between Saint and Raphael, a timebomb mere seconds away from exploding. Saint held a gun at my brother’s head, his expression that of disdain and aversion. There was no chance I’d get them in the same room without them trying to kill each other. And that meant I wouldn’t get the chance to get to know my brother. Not yet.

I found Elena and Saint already sitting at the breakfast table which had been set on the top deck where Saint and I had our dinner. The second I took that final step and looked into Saint’s eyes, heat spread from my cheeks to my ears.

“Mila.” Saint placed his napkin on the table and pulled a chair out for me. “We were wondering when you’d grace us with your presence.”

I took a seat, and Saint sat back down. “I was just telling Aunt Elena how beautiful you looked in that red dress,” his hand touched my thigh under the table, “and how I had requested you wear it more. Yet you’re not wearing anything red.” His fingers bit into the soft flesh of my thigh, and pain shot down my leg. I was taken aback by his fierce reprimand, yet my spine tingled with anticipation.

“I will take responsibility for that,” Elena chimed in. “I had put together Mila’s wardrobe without the knowledge that you preferred the color red.”

Saint grinned. “It’s a newly acquired preference.”

“Well, then, it seems Mila and I have some shopping to do. I will arrange for a charter to escort us to the mainland by midday.”

Saint glowered at Elena. “I’d prefer you make use of online retailers.”

“Don’t be silly, Marcello.” Elena snickered. “Since Mila’s entire wardrobe consists of items chosen based on my style, I think it’s time she fills her closet with items based on her own personal style.”

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