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“King Marcello won’t be pleased,” Benedetto muttered, watching the sulking toddler glower at him.

“I wanted to sweep with Zuzu and Mwarcello. Take me to them,” Rio demanded, pushing away his food.

Benedetto had spent the night at the boy’s side, but Rio had refused sleep, restless and stubborn, insisting on going back to Azzurra. It had taken both a bedtime story and a painfully off-key lullaby before the child finally drifted off. Come morning, Rio was back to his protests refusing even a bite, insisting he wanted only Azzurra.

When Alarico entered the kitchen, half the staff were gathered around the boy, coaxing him with no success. Cesario spotted Alarico and rushed to him, arms raised. The massive man scooped the child up with ease, and Cesario sniffled, “I want Zuzu.”

Alarico’s gaze flicked to Benedetto, who nodded toward the plate of neatly sliced fruit. “I’ll take you,” Alarico told the boy, “but first, you have to eat.”

Cesario pulled back, lifting his tiny hand, pinky finger jutting out. “Prowmise?” he asked in his soft, lisping tone.

A rare smile touched Alarico’s lips as he hooked his pinky with the boy’s. “Promise,” he murmured.

Relief swept across Cesario’s face as Alarico settled him onto the chair. The child began eating, adorably earnest, while the staff sighed in collective relief, watching in awe as the stubborn boy munched his fruit at last.

Sensing a stare, Alarico turned and met a pair of vivid blue eyes. Elettra was watching him, but the instant their gazes collided, she startled and turned away sharply. She busied herself at the counter, cooking, though her movements grew stiff when she realized his towering presence had drifted behind her. She reached for the salt, froze, and braced herself for his inevitable interrogation. He always questioned her presence.

But this time, silence. When she finally glanced over her shoulder, he was gone, walking back to the boy without a word.

Her chest tightened unexpectedly. She had rejected him, so why did it ache now? Why did his cold indifference sting more than his sharp words ever had? She didn’t like this distance, yet she reminded herself it was her choice. She had pushed him away.

Across the estate, Azzurra stirred. A groan slipped from her lips as she woke, her body aching as though weighted down. Blinking her eyes open, she shifted only to freeze at the soreness between her thighs. Memories crashed back in vivid detail.

Her head snapped sideways. There he was, sprawled on his stomach, asleep. The broad expanse of his muscular back dominated her vision, his hair tousled across his forehead, lashes fanned against his cheek. Her eyes drifted downward and widened in horror when the sunlight highlighted the curve of his bare backside.

They were both naked. The sheets had long since slipped to the floor. Heat flooded her face as she tore her gaze away, whispering a silent prayer of thanks that she had woken first.

Moving gingerly, she sat up, wincing at the tender ache still lingering. She reached for his discarded shirt, buttoning it quickly around herself before tiptoeing to his side. His face was half-hidden by his arm, features softened in sleep. For a moment, she longed to run her fingers through his thick brows, but she stopped herself.

Better not to wake the beast. He had been relentless. He’d started gentle, but soon enough he’d unleashed the full force of his hunger. By the second round, she had been utterly spent, and had he asked for a third, she might not have survived it. Thankfully, he’d been merciful enough to let her sleep, though she had sensed his restraint.

Her gaze drifted back to the discarded sheets. Should she cover him? A secret, guilty thought told her no this might be her only chance to admire him so shamelessly. With a dreamy sigh, she turned toward the bathroom.

“I like your eyes on me,” his husky voice rasped behind her. “Keep looking.”

Azzurra froze.

She whipped around, and her heart stopped when she found him awake now stretched on his back. Her breath caught, eyes widening in horror at the sight of him fully exposed.

“Cover yourself!” she squeaked, slapping her hands over her eyes as heat rushed to her cheeks.

“Just a moment ago, you were staring at my ass,” he teased, voice thick with morning gravel.

Her legs squeezed together at the sound. Slowly, daring herself, she lowered her hands and met his gaze. “I’m only looking at what’s mine,” she said softly, emerald eyes alight despite her racing heart.

His lips curved into a devilish grin as his hand brushed over his jaw. He held her gaze, seeing both the timid girl and the bold tigress behind her defiance.

“Of course,” he murmured. “All yours to see.”

“Mine,” she whispered, possessive, and his eyes flashed with something dangerous.

“You must be sore from last night,” he warned darkly. “Don’t tempt me, Azzurra.”

Her smirk deepened. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“Come here,” he beckoned smoothly, crooking his finger.

She arched a brow, his gaze sweeping over her borrowed shirt with open satisfaction. “You look ravishing in my clothes,” he rasped.

Feigning innocence, she glanced down, then twirled. His jaw clenched when the curve of her bottom peeked for a fleeting instant.

“You’re teasing me,” he growled, eyes darkening.

“Am I?” she asked, grin mischievous.

He was just about to rise from the bed when a soft knock broke the moment.

“Zuzu, Mwarcello, owen up,” Cesario’s babyish voice called through the door.

Both froze, wide-eyed, panic flashing between them.