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Her eyes narrowed. “Is that what we are?”
“I’ve known you since you were five years old,” he reminded her, and her heart looped, because she remembered the first time she’d been to Villa Fortune. The noise, the happiness, the love.
Her gut twisted; she looked over his shoulder.
“Well, you don’t know me anymore.”
“Have a drink with me.”
She jerked her gaze back to his, something zipping down her spine. Temptation. Adrenaline. Anger. “No.”
His laugh was soft, and it reached out and caressed her, the husky tones reaching inside her body and stirring her to new depths of curiosity. Was it a coincidence that he was here?
She doubted that.
“How did you know I’d be in Prague?”
For a moment, he was silent, as though he were contemplating evading the question. But then he shrugged his shoulders, as though it were no big deal. “Maddie mentioned it.”
Alessia swept her eyes shut, a hint of betrayal biting at her. She’d told Maddie Montebello what she was planning because they’d become friends. It hadn’t even occurred to Alessia that the information would filter through to Max.
“I wish she hadn’t.”
Another laugh. “Would you prefer to lick your wounds in private?”
“Is that why you’re here? To lick my wounds?” She demanded hotly, and then her cheeks flushed as she heard the words and the unintentional double entendre he might choose to perceive in them.
Sure enough, he leaned closer, his mouth just an inch from her ear so his words brushed over her cheek. “I’m here to lick whatever you want me to.”
It was like being sparked with a live voltage of electricity. Years of repressed desire, of wanting, sexuality unsatisfied, burst through her. This man she’d married who’d denied her any kind of physical intimacy during their short marriage was what? Making a pass at her now?
“Yeah, well, you’re about five years too late,” she muttered, pushing a hand to his chest and pushing him away, needing distance before she did something really stupid and gave into temptation.
And she was so tempted. She’d adored Max for almost as long as she’d known him. There were six Montebellos and she loved them all but Max had always been different. He was the oldest, the leader. They were all dynamic and powerful but even then, when Max spoke, the others listened.
She dropped her head forward, needing to blot all of that out. He’d broken her heart during their marriage. Not once but again and again and again until it was in tiny little shreds, and it was broken in a way that would never be healed. He’d broken her heart when he’d refused to make love to her, though they’d come so close on their wedding night. He’d put an end to that, leaving her frustrated and confused, worried she’d done something wrong. After that, it had gone downhill. He’d treated her like a sister, kind, attentive, but oh so careful not to touch her, not to kiss her anywhere but on the cheek.
And she’d come to hate him.
She’d come to hate his cool distance, his immaculate control of his body. So she’d done what she could – sleeping naked, joining him in the shower, anything to tempt him, to remind him she was a flesh and blood woman.
To no avail.
He hadn’t wanted her. So what the hell was he doing now?
“Are you saying you want me to go away?”
She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making that difficult.
She hated that she couldn’t answer that with an unequivocal ‘yes!’. She met his gaze fiercely though, her eyes burning with contempt. “You shouldn’t have come.”
It was the best she could do. She allowed herself to study him for one second longer and then she pushed past him, refusing to speak to the man who’d made her so miserable.
Only his hand caught her wrist, arresting her, and he pulled her towards him so they bumped into one another; her breasts crushed to his chest, his fingers on her flesh warm and engaging, circling invisible patterns over her skin.
His eyes bore into hers and she couldn’t look away now. Her breath was burning through her body, her knees felt weak, completely insufficient to support her weight. She stared up at him and with every second that passed she felt herself slipping back in time, back to when he’d been the sun and the moon to her earth. “Why did you come here?” The words emerged as a groan.
He shifted his body then, pushing her against the wall, and she was grateful for the support even when she was held up by his strong frame, his body pressed hard to hers so she felt every edge and plane of him, so she wanted to moan for how good that felt.
