Twisted Pride (The Camorra Chronicles 3)

It was way past midnight when I heard my door open. I couldn’t sleep, my mind whirring with thoughts.

Lying on my side, I watched the tall figure step in. I knew it was Remo from the way he moved, from his tall frame, the shock of his black hair. “You’re awake,” he said in a low voice.

“Did you want to watch me sleep?”

He moved closer. His face lay in shadows, and my pulse picked up. He sank down on the edge of the bed, and I rolled onto my back.

“No,” he said in a strange tone. “I prefer you awake.”

He leaned over me, one of his arms braced beside my hip.

“What do you want?” I muttered.

“I want you gone.”

My eyes widened. “Then let me go.”

“I fear it’s not that easy.” He bent lower and then his palm touched my belly and slowly slid down. I held my breath, becoming still in a mix of shock and anticipation. He cupped me through the covers and my clothes. The touch was light, almost questioning, and I was completely frozen. My center tingled and that, more than Remo’s touch, sent a fierce stab of fear through me. I wanted him to touch me without a barrier between us, wanted to get a taste of something utterly forbidden, something I wasn’t allowed to want.

Neither of us said anything. I knew what paralyzed me, but what restrained Remo?

He exhaled slowly and stood. Without another word, he disappeared. Good Lord, what was happening? With him. With me. With the both of us.

That middle of the night visit seemed to have done something to Remo because he returned to our previous routine of taking me on runs and walks through the gardens. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or worried. I’d almost missed our daily arguments because he took me seriously and was strangely excited about my comebacks. He didn’t want me to be the restrained lady. Far from it. Remo thrived on chaos and conflict. His presence left me breathless and overwhelmed.

I slanted Remo a look as he walked beside me in silence. His expression was harsh, his dark eyes forbidding. I stopped and after a moment he did too. He narrowed his eyes.

“Why did you really let Samuel go? I want the truth.”

Remo glared down at me. “I think you’re forgetting what you are. I don’t owe you the truth. I don’t even owe you these fucking strolls through the gardens. You are my captive, Serafina.”

Serafina? “What about ‘Angel?’” I retorted.

Remo gripped my upper arms. “Careful. I think handling you with kid gloves gave you the wrong idea.”

“I think I have exactly the right idea.”

Remo’s fingers tightened. I lifted my hands and pressed them to his chest. The muscles flexed under my touch. Remo lowered his gaze to my hands then slowly looked back up. The expression on his face burned a fierce trail through my body. Fury and desire.

Remo jerked me against him, knocking the air out of me. One hand gripped my neck, and his mouth pressed against my ear. “I don’t remember you pushing me away when I touched your pussy a few nights ago, Angel,” he growled.

Shame washed over me from the memory, but worse, so much worse … longing.

“Every fucking day you want me a little more. I can see it in your eyes, can see the struggle in them. You aren’t allowed to have me like I’m not allowed to have you.”

“You are Remo Falcone. You are Capo. You rule over the West. Who could stop you from having me?” I murmured. My God. What was wrong with me?

His fingers shifted on my neck, loosening, and he pulled back to meet my gaze, and I wished he hadn’t because the fierceness in his eyes was like the first breath of air after holding your breath for too long.

“The only force on this earth that can stop me is you. You’re the only one I’d allow to do so,” he said in a dark voice. He kissed me, a slide of his lips over mine. “How much longer will you?”

I wanted to deepen the kiss. My fingers trembled against Remo’s chest. I wanted to look away from his dark eyes and at the same time I wanted to drown in their power. I wanted so many things when he was around. Things I’d always be forbidden to want.

A man of unparalleled cruelty. My captor. My enemy.

I stumbled back, wheezing.

“Do you want to run again?” The dark amusement in his voice wasn’t as convincing as it usually was. He sounded strained.

I didn’t want to run, and that was the problem because I should want to run from the desire. I took another step back.

Remo smiled darkly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as scared of me as you are now.”