“Sit down.”
I realized he’d been watching me take it all in. I lowered myself to the couch and faced him, the desk looming between us, him sitting behind it, making me feel small. I smoothed the skirt of my sundress down, unsure what to do with my hands.
Salvatore got up and walked around his desk. Surprising me, he joined me on the couch.
It only made me more uncomfortable, though. If only he’d act like I expected him to…
“What do you know about me?”
I studied him, drawn to him, to his eyes. I remembered for a moment how the blue had turned nearly black when he’d been aroused. Remembered how he’d looked at me when I’d lain before him. How he’d taken me in. How he’d gripped his cock…
Then the image of what I’d found in his bedroom flashed across the screen of my memory.
I cleared my throat and focused on the firm set of his jaw instead of his eyes. The scruff along the chiseled line told me he’d probably not shaved in the two days he’d been gone, and it didn’t help my wandering mind. I lowered my gaze to his neck, to the exposed flesh there, the T-shirt hugging his powerful chest.
Shit. This wasn’t working. I was attracted to this man I wanted to hate. In spite of what he’d done, the physical attraction was like an energy between us, a living, breathing, scorching thing.
I closed my eyes and willed myself to focus. Opening them again, I forced myself to meet his eyes. But when I did, I saw what he saw. He knew his power over me.
“Were you with a woman the last two nights?” I blurted out.
He chuckled, apparently surprised. “Not like you think.”
So that was a yes?
“I felt ashamed of what I’d done. What I’d made you do.”
My neck and face heated.
“That’s why I left. I wasn’t with another woman. I wouldn’t be. We have a contract.”
“That binds me to you.” Nothing in the contract spoke of any obligation on his part, certainly not one to be celibate or faithful. It was not a marriage contract, after all.
“And me to you.”
Now I was confused. Salvatore leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee.
“Let me ask you again, Lucia. What do you know about me? Or perhaps the better question is, what do you think you know?”
“I know you’re Franco Benedetti’s son.” I stuck my chin out. “That’s all I need to know.”
“I think you’re smarter than that.”
“I know your hand shook when you signed the contract.”
He paused, his gaze faltering momentarily. “I’m not firstborn. I was never intended to be in the position I’m in.”
“You mean, being your father’s successor?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re stuck with me? If your brother were alive, I’d be his.”
“I mean I am obligated to do many things, which I would not choose to do and do not condone.”
“Me, you mean. You wouldn’t choose me?”
“Stop putting words in my mouth.”
“Isn’t that what you’re saying?”
“Why don’t you try listening for a change and remember not everything is about you, Lucia.”
Too shocked to retort, I unwittingly did as he said.
“I’m saying I wouldn’t have created that contract in the first place. But to be fair, your father agreed. Remember that.”
“My father didn’t have a choice.”
“He should have been willing to die…” he paused and leaned forward, anger marking his words, an anger I did not expect. “He should have been willing to die rather than see you go through what you did.”
That last part made me stop.
“He did die.” But Salvatore was right. And that was why I’d been so angry with my father all these years. Why I refused to see him. He’d given me up without a fight. Salvatore was right. How could he stand by and watch what they did? How could he have offered his daughter to the Benedetti beasts?
“I don’t want to upset you, Lucia.”
I wiped the back of my hand across my face, catching the single tear that had slipped from my eye. I shook my head, not wanting to speak for fear I would weep. It would be easier if he were unkind. Damn him, it would be easier.
“All I’m saying is I wouldn’t have done what my father did. I would not have required the innocent daughter of my enemy as payment.”
Fuck.
I swallowed back tears, knowing he saw right through me all along.
“But we’re here now. You and I are both here, and bound to one another. I don’t want a prisoner. I don’t want someone who fears or hates me in my own house.”
“Then I don’t understand. Why do you care what I think? I’m your enemy, and you’ve won. My presence here is proof of that. To your power over me and my family.”
“I’m not a monster, whether you believe it or not.”
“What do you want from me, then?”