Page 35 of The Viper's Wife

His eyes glitter with interest, and I realize my mistake. I clear my throat. “Nico.”

“Val.” My name sounds like a dirty promise in his mouth. He takes a step closer to me. His gaze flicks down to the ring on my hand, and he smiles. The small bloody cut on his bottom lip is menacing.

I thought in the chair, I’d feel more powerful—like a high-powered exec looking down on her employee. But with Nico towering over me, I feel more like a student about to get reprimanded by her professor.

I stand, the armchair squeaking in protest. “Your apartment sucks.”

“You don’t like it? I think it’s homey.”

“For a serial killer, maybe.”

“Maybe I am a serial killer.”

I swallow.

My clothes cover almost my entire body, but the way Nico glances over me makes me feel naked. Exposed.

That’s what he wants, isn’t it?

“Time for your inspection,” he says.

I cross my arms to hide the frantic heartbeat that must be apparent through my shirt. “Be serious. You were just saying that to get under Stefano’s skin.”

“I was. But then I got to thinking about it on the ride over. Would you tell me if you had other bruises?”

“Yes.”

Nico laughs. “No, you wouldn’t.” He steps around meand sits in the armchair, resting his chin on his loose fist. His long legs sprawl wide. “Strip.”

I’m tempted to throw it in his face that this isn’t the first time I’ve stripped for a man. That I know how to draw out his anticipation, to have him drooling in my palm before I’ve even gotten to my underwear. If I wanted, I could make him beg for it.

But I don’t do any of that. Maybe I should, to make him lose interest in the chase, but I’m scared it won’t work, and my usual armor—scowls and verbal snips—only seems to fuel his interest further.

Feeling like I’m sinking in quicksand, I jerk off my shirt and pants, leaving them in a messy spread on the floor.

Nico doesn’t care.

His amber eyes burn for me. He’s completely still, save for his long fingers curling into a fist and a slight movement in his pants.

I suffer his scrutiny, burning with humiliation in his cold apartment. My nipples are hard points, visible through my thin bra.

He lazily spins his finger.

I turn.

He leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

“Come here.”

If he touches me, I’m going to fuck everything up even more than it already is. “No.”

“Valeria.”

I reach for my pants on the floor, and he steps on them.

I swing back up, covering my breasts with one arm. “I need to go. I have work tomorrow.”

He reaches forward. His fingers skim the outside of my thigh. “Stay here. I don’t want you going back to your place.”