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“Yeah, but shit, this was his sister. I can’t be sure, but I think she’s been physically abused by Dracos. I have a feeling that’s not a recent thing either. I think it’s more like a way of life for all of the bastard’s children.”
“This means we’re going to proceed with great caution. Right? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Extreme caution,” I correct. “Although the first thing I’m going to do is get my ring on Melina’s finger. I want our marriage cemented.”
“You’re going to marry her? You love her?”
I laugh—the sound bitter to my own ears. “This isn’t Hallmark. The fact is, by marrying her I will piss her father off even more. However, my major reason is so that she has my name and protection.”
“I wouldn’t use any of that explanation when convincing her to marry you,” Niko advises.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I laugh.
“What are you planning on doing to get her to agree?” Victorio asks.
“Fuck her into submission,” I answer honestly. The other two laugh, but I don’t. I’m completely serious. I just hope Melina cooperates.
melina
“What are you doing?”
I look up to see Antonio standing at the door. He’s wearing black slacks which look damn good on him, but still make me wonder how they contain all that is him in the first place. Antonio is broad and wide—everywhere. His body is a work of art, but when he enters a room, everything instantly feels smaller. His presence is that commanding.
“I’m looking for clothes. I can’t walk around your house in nothing but one of your shirts.”
“I don’t see why not. I like you in my shirt,” he practically purrs.
“It’s the middle of the day, I can’t walk around like this. Your house is full of people, Antonio.”
“I gave my friend permission to call me Anton.” I frown.
“Okay…” I exhale trying to piece what he’s saying together. “I’m not calling you Anton.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“You’re very confusing this morning,” I grumble with a sigh. It has been a hell of a day and this conversation with Antonio is just too much.
“I like the way you say my name. Especially when I’m buried deep inside of you.”
His voice is softer this time, graveled and full of desire that he doesn’t bother to hide. It sends chills of awareness across my skin and awakens needs inside of me that I’ve tried like hell to bury since I left him. I clear my throat and try to shake out of the spell he has begun weaving on me. I need a clear head here.
“I’m not sure what’s going on here. I mean, we had one night together—”
“It would have been more if you hadn’t run away from me.”
“We had one night,” I stress, “and now you just expect me to marry you.”
“It’s the most logical decision.”
“In what universe is that logical? Are you even listening to yourself?”
“Who hit you,il mio tesoro?”
“I really think we—what?” I squeak.
“Who hit you? It’s a legitimate question.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
