I shuddered with anticipation. Of his touch.
Of his kiss.
Of his dominance.
"You should be afraid of me," he whispered, allowing his heated breath to cascade across the nape of my neck, his lips so close yet so far away.
I swallowed, my eyelids suddenly heavy, my heart racing. "Why?"
"Because I'm a monster." He tangled his fingers in my hair, yanking me onto my tiptoes and crushing his mouth over mine. This wasn't about a simple round of intimacy but a moment of controlling obsession, the passion so primal and the kiss so deep that it tore at my defenses, smashing through my walls of protection until I was left drugged.
Blinded.
He kept his mouth over mine, his tongue penetrating into my very soul, refusing to accept anything less than my complete submission. I became lost in his world, a girl utterly vulnerable but protected by a man who'd long since given up the joy of living. I was his prize, a blip in time where he could allow his defenses to fall.
What terrified me the most was never being able to let go.
I clung to him, drawn to his dangerous ways like a moth to a flame. There was no sense of time or space, only the languishing longing we both shared.
Soon to be broken.
No doubt to be scarred.
When he finally broke the kiss, he struggled to breathe, every muscle in his ripped body tense. "You were always meant to be mine."
The words no longer burned or were they jarring. They were a simple fact to a man like Michael.
He took decided steps away, his beautiful and sensual eyes riddled with the same kind of darkness I'd feared all my life. And I knew. He'd resigned himself to accepting his responsibility, the same damning family honor that had been instilled into me my entire life. He'd become the brutal criminal he'd been determined to walk away from. When he looked away, I caught a glimpse of sadness.
I had to wonder if I'd ever see it again.
"We both need to eat but we have a few minutes. We should talk." The grip on his wineglass was firm and I could swear I heard a slight cracking sound.
The beautiful spell was broken.
"Talk. What else can be said?"
"I need to know all your father's associates. You will make a list."
Back to business. Of course. I was suddenly very exhausted, my eyes watering. "I don't know them. Not really. I only really know his consigliere, my godfather, but I haven't spoken with him for years. I've seen countless capos come and go over the years, so I have no idea who he employs at this point. I've been in the United States for a very long time."
"Any names. Every name. I don't care. His banker. His secretary. Whoever is closest to him." This was a command, not a request.
I couldn't help but bristle. Yes. Sir. Hell, no, I wasn't going to say that to him. "It sounds like you're trying to implicate my father in the assassination attempt."
"I'm keeping every door open. I will not rest until I have the answers, and no one will stop me from getting them." He took another sip of wine.
Another implied threat but I knew he intended on getting exactly what he wanted.
I was incensed but I had to admit, my father had acted very odd when he'd suddenly appeared on my doorstep, plying me with gifts and having the discussion about Vincenzo and honor. I'd still been stupid or trusting enough to not think twice about his actions.
Until now.
"And if you find out he has knowledge?" I had to ask the question, although I didn't want to know the answer.
"Then your father will pay. Simple as that." He edged closer, waiting for my reaction.
I clenched my fist in my lap, trying not to fall into another trap. Why did I continue to have any kind of caring feelings for this man? Everything was a game to him. "I honestly don't know anything. You're going to have to get used to that. You can punish me all you want to, Michael, but that's not going to get you the answers you want. Not now. Not ever."
My personality was changing, perhaps at the wrong time. I caught a glimpse of true anger in his eyes, the kind I'd seen in my father so many times, but Michael backed off, fisting his mouth and moving further away from me.
Controlling his rage against my defiance.
"Tell me how your father convinced you to marry Vincenzo." Another demand but this time more soft-sided.
He wasn't going to let this go.
"My father came to America by surprise. We went to lunch and he said there was a man he wanted me to meet, that our connection could be good for the family. Nothing more. I did what he asked then thought nothing of it for two weeks. He supposedly left to go home, but I have a feeling he stayed."
Now he was intrigued. "What makes you say that?"
"I saw him coming out of a restaurant a week later. I rang his phone, called his bluff. He swore up and down he was still in Italy but assured me that he was coming back. He had a surprise for me."
"The surprise being Vincenzo."
I nodded, taking a gulp of the wine for courage, and maybe to keep my brain cells alive. I had been a fool. "We talked for a long time and he explained about my trust. I knew there was a trust fund, but I'd never bothered to ask any details."
Michael inhaled, holding his breath. "I'm certain that came as quite a shock."