The Maddest Obsession (Made 2)

“Seems they couldn’t hold your interest either. Though, maybe that’s just because you knew the part about him fucking his twenty-year-old virgin bride was coming up next.”

I flinched. Antonio must be angrier with me than I’d thought.

I hoped he’d made it sound more exciting than it was. There’d been nothing romantic about my first time. It was cold and mechanical, leaving a hollow hole in my chest that I’d tried to fill by gaining my husband’s love. What a joke that had been.

“Isn’t it in your job description to feign interest in everything he says?”

His gaze flickered with something akin to dry amusement, though he didn’t respond. He stepped onto the terrace, tension outlining his shoulders. I couldn’t help but think he was weighing his options, and it seemed he would rather tolerate my presence than go back inside.

“Did his crassness offend your tender sensibilities?” I asked.

“Not exactly.”

His eyes came my way, filled to the brim with cold, cold fury. It dimmed to something warmer as his gaze slid down my neck and bare shoulder.

I shook off a shiver. “Will you avenge my honor, Officer?”

“Not sure I see a point when you don’t have much left.”

I pouted. “And just when I was beginning to think you cared.”

“Don’t hold your breath, sweetheart.”

“Strawberry?”

When he looked at the fruit in my hand like it was offensive, I sighed. Then bit off the tip and licked the juice from my lips. His gaze followed the motion, warmer and heavier than the swipe of my tongue.

“Why do you dislike my husband so much?”

“Yes . . . why?”

I froze at the sound of Antonio’s voice.

Allister looked positively unmoved that my husband had heard me, not even turning around to grace his employer with his attention nor deigning to answer the question. Antonio never cared when I spoke with men, but I wasn’t sure how he would react to me being alone with one of his employees.

“What are you two talking about?”

“Mythology,” I said in a bored tone. “Greek.”

“Ah. My favorite kind.”

Allister took a drink, watching the pool. He looked as apathetic as he’d claimed to be earlier, but something else wove through his disinterest. He was too apathetic. A shadow of something dark passing by below ice.

“I should have known I’d find you here, being lazy by the pool.”

“Yes, well, one can only tolerate the same story five times. Though, I’ve heard you mixed it up tonight.”

Antonio chuckled, reaching my chaise and running a hand around the back of my neck. “Don’t be mad, cara. It was a tasteful story, I promise.” His eyes coasted to Allister, hardening from amusement to jagged steel. “It’s not like I told them you bled all over my cock.”

I cringed.

The tension was so stifling I could hardly breathe. It settled in the air like late summer humidity, filling my lungs and touching my skin.

I downed my glass of tequila, biting down on it. The liquor burned away the humiliation in my throat. My husband was angry at me for a multitude of reasons, but this—whatever this was—wasn’t for my benefit. The two men weren’t even looking at each other, but nobody could miss the tightly-leashed venom between them.

“Your friends miss you.” Antonio’s grasp on my neck tightened enough for me to understand the warning. “Don’t be long.”

He disappeared inside.