His thumb moved over the bare skin of her ankle. “There are some things that are ours, Emme. Yours. Mine. The Saldis’. Not the Ferraros’. You have a tendency to think of yourself as a Ferraro and you go straight to Stefano. I don’t blame you for that. In fact, Stefano saved us. I’m grateful for the alliance.”
“You were counting on an alliance. As much as Dario said you told him not to contact me, that was bullshit. You both wanted me there, knew I would come, and you counted on me calling Stefano.”
He didn’t deny it. How could he? Valentino always had a plan. She should have known, but even had she figured it out ahead of time, she still wouldn’t have allowed him to be killed.
He gave her a faint smile. “The most difficult time for me was early on. You protected your shadow, Princess. I had to be patient, and I was really afraid one of the others might notice the phenomenon. Dario helped me watch over you, but it was very nerve-wracking. I was afraid you’d go to Stefano and he’d put a stop to you coming to see me when I called you. I counted on your protecting me.”
“I did go to him.”
His eyebrow shot up. “Why didn’t he stop you from coming to me?”
“He didn’t listen to me that first time. After that, I did protect you.”
He looked so satisfied she wanted to throw something at him again. Instead, she clutched the pillow. “Valentino, I’m not going to be sidetracked. I want to know what you’re hiding.”
“Marry me. Right away. I’ll tell you everything. But only when you’re my wife.”
She scowled at him. “Are you crazy? Do you even listen to anything I say? Absolutely not.” She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Can’t you see why this won’t work? You can’t hear me when I talk to you. You don’t understand what I’m saying to you. I’m not another woman, Val. I’m a Ferraro. I’m every bit as lethal as you are in my own way. You think because I love you that I wouldn’t ever harm you. Given the right circumstances, you would be wrong. I’m not willing to risk it.”
She heard the absolute, utter despair in her voice. There was no resolving a situation when Val was so certain he was right. He was stubborn in the same way Stefano was. As head of the house, everyone else bent to his will. As head of an entire organization, a huge territory, Val would expect everyone to do exactly as he ordered—including her. That wasn’t Emmanuelle. She’d often defied her brother. That was what had gotten her in this mess in the first place.
Val shrugged carefully out of his jacket and reached for his tie, loosening it, his eyes never leaving hers. “I always listen to every word you say, Emmanuelle. You’re important to me. I’ve had these last two years to go over every word you said. Every word I said. I know every breath you took and when you took it.”
Emmanuelle didn’t know how to save herself when he was like this. His voice a velvet caress, smoothing over her skin, raising goose bumps. His words shooting arrows straight to her heart, to her soul. He knew what to say to get to her. His eyes never leaving hers so she was held captive, drowning in him. That’s what he did to her. That’s how he mesmerized her every single time. She turned weak.
“Do you really think I would ever cheat on you, Emme? That I could stand another woman touching my body? That I would want another woman’s mouth on my cock? That I could put my cock in her body after being inside of you? Is that what you really think of me, Princess?” His tie was dropped to the chair, and he sank down and removed his shoes, not once looking away from her.
Her stomach did a slow somersault. The very large room was suddenly too small. He filled it with his masculine scent. Just with him.
“You expect me to believe a man like you, a man with your sex drive, has gone two years without a woman?” She flung it at him like an accusation, trying to save herself in desperation. Already, she was aching for him. Felt empty, her blood pounding with excitement. Racing. Hot with need. With craving. With obsession. This was Valentino.
One by one the buttons of his shirt opened to reveal his chest. That chest of his. Rock solid. All muscle. Even the scars, old and new, fresh wounds, couldn’t deter from the perfection that was Valentino Saldi.
He smiled at her. A predator’s smile. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. Her heart was racing. He saw the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the thin, nearly nonexistent top she wore as she struggled to keep her breathing under control. Her fingers fisted in the sheets.