Page 61 of Brutal Heir

After she marched into the bathroom, she called through the closed door, “You should have just told me that.”

She emerged wearing my shirt, looking sexier than if she’d been draped in the most expensive Parisian lingerie.

I clenched my fists to prevent myself from reaching for her.

This was supposed to be a calculated business plan to protect the family dynasty.

Seduce her.

Marry her.

Stop her father from taking down the House of Diamanti.

I had hoped to preserve a shred of my humanity by keeping things—mostly—professional. But now, the thought of keeping my hands off her seemed impossible.

The vision of her on her knees struggling to swallow my cock would haunt my erotic dreams.

It was all I could do not to sink my cock deep inside of her, but the sight of her wearing my shirt was almost more than I could bear.

I focused on adjusting the cuffs on her too-long sleeves. Every brush of my fingertips against her skin would remind her who dressed her.

“I’m not a monster, Sabrina.”

Easily the biggest lie I’d told her yet…and it would only get worse.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. This is a completely new situation for me, and I’m clueless about what to do.”

My fingers brushed her soft skin as I rolled the shirt cuffs over her forearms. Her quick inhalation didn’t escape me.

As I pushed her hair behind her ear, I leaned in to kiss her forehead. “You’re supposed to have breakfast with me. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

She lowered her head and nodded.

She looked so small, so vulnerable.

I almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

Sabrina did not know she was playing a game with no rules and no chance of winning.

I glided my hand over her back before settling on her hip and guiding her to the balcony.

Just in case there were any missed glass shards, I swept her into my arms again and placed her in her seat.

She stiffened her spine, refusing to allow her back to touch the cushions. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Unable to resist, I gave the top of her head a quick kiss.

She would read it as a caring gesture.

I inhaled the sweet scent of her shampoo, which clung to her still-damp hair. Clearing my throat, I sat and covered my growing cock with a linen napkin before once more pouring her a cup of coffee.

“Do I need a reason?” Without asking, I added three spoonfuls of sugar and a large dash of cream, turning it into a cloyingly sweet concoction.

Before she answered my question, she frowned. “How did you know I like extra sugar and cream in my coffee?”

Fuck.