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“Let go of me, you idiot. Maybe if you took an interest in me, I wouldn’t need a boy toy.” I don’t know why I provoke him more, but Jesus, how dare he?
He halts, and while I have never been afraid of Gio Cassinetti, I think right now I should be. I’m not, but his look probably killed a few people around us like a drive-by shooting spree.
“I swear to God, Mila—” His nostrils inflate again. “Get in the car.”
I jerk my arm away from him. “I have a car here.”
He closes his eyes briefly, sucking in air. It does nothing for his composure. “I don’t give a shit, Mila. We’re having dinner with my friends. Get in the fucking car now.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Ask me nicely.”
His chests heaves as he steps closer. Too close. The smoke and spice linger around me, wrapping me tightly in the essence of this man. I step back, but he snakes his arm around my waist and yanks me to him.
Crashing his lips on mine, he takes my breath away. And with my breath he steals so much more.
My resolve, inhibition, hatred.
This man has always taken what he wants, and I will always give willingly. That’s how unequal this union has been.
I moan into the kiss as his tongue dives in, and my body tingles with recognition and need strong enough to knock me off my feet. But he’s there to catch me. To support me. And for a moment, I let myself believe he will always be there to catch me.
“Get in the car, please.” The word might be courteous by definition, but there is nothing polite in his tone.
Still, I slide into the backseat and close my eyes. There are so many reasons I should be pissed right now. And I’m upset. But the pathetic hopeful fool in me is also utterly pleased Gio acted the way he did.
Maybe it’s a weird version of Stockholm syndrome. I’ve been trapped in this relationship for too long.
I don’t condone the action, but the emotion behind it rings too close to jealousy. And while that’s not a feeling I admire, my mind focuses on the motivation behind it. Does he care?
The car moves and Gio stares out of the window. He doesn’t pull out his phone. It should please me, but it’s almost scary. So unexpected I don’t know what to think about it.
“How was your trip?” My words are light, floating through the car.
Gio whips his head round and studies me for a moment, like I’m a puzzle he can’t solve and it pisses him off. “It was fine,” he says through his teeth. “It was what awaited me here upon my return I don’t care much about.”
I roll my eyes. Seriously? Though he didn’t really give me a chance to explain who Ricardo was. Let him stew. His mistake. “How did you even find me?”
He looks at me like I’m deranged. “GPS tracker.”
Now, if he had slapped me, I wouldn’t be more stunned. “You have a tracker on me?” I run my hands over my arms, because apparently I didn’t know until a second ago and now I can detect it by patting myself.
Gio frowns, unimpressed. “On your phone. Of course, my security team has tabs on you. It’s for your own safety. You’re my fiancée.”
Is he for real? “Am I? Am I really, Gio? Because it seems to me you’re already married to your work. You told me respect needs to be earned, but you don’t give me the time of day to even try.”
He glares at me.
It’s the look of a predator ready to pounce. Kill me. I’ll take this brewing emotion over his indifferent behavior anytime. I raise my chin, taunting him.
The car comes to a full stop, and he breaks the gaze and opens the door. I scramble out behind him, gearing up for a fight, but I halt, my heart sinking into my stomach, when I see a helicopter waiting for us.
Chapter31
Mila
Gio holds my hand as we take off. He’s probably flown in a helicopter several times since our last and only ride together to Napa Valley. But for me, this is like reliving hell. At the same time, it stirs more than the fear of a crash.
It unravels all the memories after the accident, so many of them the best memories of my life. With this man who has pulled me closer, holding me in his arms. He probably thinks my tears are those of fear.
