“I fucking care. Besides, why are you out here dressed like that? You don’t have a one-piece bathing suit?” I realize how ridiculous I sound. She does too.
“Massimo. I’m wearing a bikini. People wear them all the time. But hey, if we’re playing this game, I should ask where you’ve been for the last four days.”
My lips part, and I gaze down at her. Barefooted, she seems so much shorter. I tower over her. The truth of my absence surfaces to my mind, but I will it away.
She mistakes my hesitation for something else, and her eyes cloud with something I don’t quite recognize.
“You were with her, weren’t you?” I instantly identify the emotion in her eyes as jealousy. And hurt.
It takes me a moment before I realize she’s referring to Gabriel
la. Before I can answer, though, she starts walking away, back to the house. I catch her arm.
“No,” I answer, pulling her back, “I wasn’t with Gabriella.”
“Gabriella…” she repeats thoughtfully. She didn’t have Gabriella’s name before. Maybe telling her was a mistake.
“I was working,” I continue.
“I don’t care. You can be with whoever you want,” she scuffs with disgust.
“Jealous much?” I taunt.
“Why the hell would I be jealous of her? She’s not locked up twenty-four seven and ruled under the thumb of a condescending prick.”
Prick? And a condescending one at that. Jesus. This doll certainly has balls. I can’t remember the last person to talk to me like that and live to tell the tale. Yet here she is, with her foot practically tapping against the sand, calling me a prick.
A chuckle slips from my lips. “Did you just call me a condescending prick?”
“Yes.”
I dip my head briefly then smile at her. She tries to bite back a smile but fails and looks away. I catch her face and guide her gaze back to me.
“You’re prettier when you smile.” There’s a noticeable shift in her mood when I tell her. Her gaze softens and her shoulders loosen. The defiance isn’t so strong.
“Is that you being nice?” she asks.
“I don’t do nice.”
She pouts, and my gaze drops to her lips. Those lips of hers have me thinking of how perfect they’ll look around my cock. That smart mouth of hers will do more than amuse me eventually.
My eyes flick back up to meet hers, and I find myself momentarily in that state of flux again where I’m not sure what to do. I should walk away, or send her to her room, but desire has already started to infiltrate my mind.
She sets her hands on her hips, drawing my attention to her body again, when the perfect idea comes to me about how I can reacquaint myself with my wife-to-be.
“Come and take a shower with me.” I almost laugh at the deer-in-the-headlights look she gives me.
Her back becomes rigid, and her entire body tenses. Apprehension fills her eyes. However, instead of the way she looked the other day when she was scared I’d deflower her, there’s something else that lurks beyond her gaze that I definitely don’t miss. Lust.
Invisible fingers of lust reach out to me, curious. I release her, and her cheeks flush pink.
“No,” she replies.
I give her a grin, and her beautiful whisky-colored eyes become narrowed slits.
“Princesca, I wasn’t asking you. I was telling you.” I lean closer and brush my nose aling her ear. “Stop acting like you don’t want to.”
“It’s not an act.”