"Aww, I’m just starting to have fun." I glance at her sideways. "Besides, who does he think he is to order me around?"
"The Sovranos can be a bit overwhelming. Why don’t we get out of here, and I’ll explain on the way home?"
"Fine." I toss my hair, most of which has now escaped from the messy bun on top of my head. "There's one thing I have to do before we leave." I bare my teeth.
"Oh?" Her gaze grows worried.
I reach past her to seize the tall plastic cup the bartender filled with beer, and dump it on Seb.
3
A week later
Elsa
"Open up." I bang on the front door to the mansion. "Open the hell up."
I hear footsteps approaching, but it’s not quickly enough. My heart hammers in my chest and adrenaline laces my blood.
"Help," I scream, "help me, please."
I raise my fist to bang on the door again, when it’s flung open. I stumble forward and smash my face into what feels like a brick wall. A wall that emanates heat, which slams into my chest, pours over my shoulders, and pins me in place. My breasts swell, my thighs clench, and all of the pores on my skin pop. I know who it is, even before I raise my head and those golden-brown eyes meet mine. What the hell is he doing here?
"Help," I pant. "Help me, Seb."
His hands grip my upper arms. Then he glances past me, and his gaze widens. "Cazzo," he swears. The next second, he hauls me inside the house, then throws me down on the floor. The open door is too far away to reach.
"Get down," he yells into the room, then lowers his head so his cheek is plastered to mine.
He covers my body with his,andthe breath whooshes out of my lungs. Shots ring out aboveus.
"What the—"my heart leapfrogsintomy chest,andadrenaline spikes my blood.
My throat closes, my pulse rate ratchets up, and a trembling grips me. I lay there as the shots seem to go on and on. When they finally stop, silence descends. Something crashes to the floor inside the house and I flinch. He wraps his fingers around the nape of my neck and holds me in place. It should feel threatening, but instead, some of the panic abates. The heat from his body pours over me and sinks into my blood. Sweat beads my brow, and it’s as if I have stepped into a sauna. His chest rises and falls, and I can feel every ridge, every cut of his sculpted muscles that dig into my back. His big body surrounds me; he’s all around me. I should feel claustrophobic, but instead, I feel protected, and safe, and secure. Then his weight is gone.
Cool air flows over me. The sound of people moving, of footsteps approaching us, of voices raised in concern, pours over me. I try to move, but my body doesn’t obey. Try to open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
"You okay, Frozen?"
Huh? Did he just call me what I think he did? He grips my shoulder, turns me over, and once more, I am staring up into those golden eyes. It’s the first thing I noticed about him, because they are startling. Bottomless orbs of power that can see right through to my insecurities. He’s so goddam gorgeous with those thick eyelashes, sculpted cheekbones, and a nose hooked enough to lend him an air of arrogance. That pouty lower lip that hints at the sensualness that clothes him, that thin upper lip that warns me he could be mean. Cruel. He could cut me off at the knees with the charm that radiates from him, and surely, fills any room he enters. He’d chew me up, spit me out, and damn, if I wouldn’t enjoy every bit of sensation he’d wring from me.
"John," I croak.
His gaze intensifies. "Who's John?"
"Who's Frozen?" I counter.
"Touché." His lips twitch. "Princess suits you better."
"Keanu Reeves played John Wick in the movie by the same name, and PS, you must have been sleeping under a rock if you haven't heard of it. Also, I hate Princess even more," I grumble.
"I'll call you whatever name I want," he announces.
"Definitely John Wick," I mutter under my breath. "No, actually, you’re grumpier, and that's some feat, I can tell you."
"Eh?" He searches my features. "Are you hurt?" He runs his hands down my torso, my waist, over my hips, and something inside of me sparks to life.
"Stop touching me, you oaf." I slap his hands away. "I’m fine."