Page 77 of The Serpent's Bride
The softness in his voice scared me more than shouting would have. “Leo…”
“It’s going to be a very long day, Chiara,” he muttered. My name sounded different coming from him tonight. Final. And as he turned away toward the windows overlooking the city, I realized with terrifying certainty, something had changed.
I stared at his back while rain lashed violently against the windows behind him.
Something was wrong and not just the conversation with Papa. Not just the coldness radiating off him tonight like winter wrapped in expensive cologne and violence.
Something inside Leo felt… restrained. Like a wolf straining against a chain.
He stood near the windows with one hand braced against the glass, broad shoulders tense beneath the dark charcoal fabric stretched across his back. Lightning flickered somewhere in the distance, briefly illuminating the sharp lines of his face in silver.
God. Even angry, even distant, he was devastating.
The rolled sleeves exposed powerful tattooed forearms veined beneath golden skin. His dark hair looked slightly damp from the rain, pushed messily away from his forehead. Expensive whiskey and storm water clung to him, masculine and dangerous enough to make heat spread traitorously through my stomach all over again.
I hated my body. Hated the way fear and desire tangled together every single time he walked near me. Leo Moretti terrified me. And still my pulse raced whenever he got too close.
I swallowed hard, fingers tightening against the black silk sheets twisted around my legs.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” I said quietly.
He didn’t turn around. “Yes.”
The simple honesty somehow hurt worse. “Why?”
Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating beneath the sound of rain battering the glass walls surrounding the penthouse. “Because you keep looking at me like that.”
Confusion flickered through me. “Like what?”
Now he turned, slowly. And the look in his eyes nearly stopped my heart. His gaze dragged over me where I sat in his bed wearing nothing but his shirt, the black fabric slipping lower down one shoulder. My bare thighs pressed together instinctively beneath the sheets when his eyes lingered there too long.
Heat rolled low in my stomach.
“There,” he said quietly. “Exactly like that.”
My breath caught. Leo started toward the bed again, slow and predatory, and my body reacted before my mind could. My pulse jumped violently. My nipples tightened painfully beneath the thin shirt. A nervous ache coiled lower between my thighs the closer he got.
He stopped directly in front of me. Towering. I tilted my head back to look at him properly and quickly regretted it. Those dark eyes pinned me in place. Dangerous.
Not teasing tonight, and not playful, either.
“You should stop sleeping in my bed,” he said softly. But his gaze stayed fixed on my mouth.
I swallowed hard. “You never told me to leave.”
“You should obey me without question,” he said firmly. The warning in his voice made my stomach twist.
But something reckless had already taken root inside me. Maybe humiliation finally curdled into desperation. Maybe tomorrow’s wedding terrified me more than rejection did now. Or maybe I was simply tired of him pretending he didn’t want me when my entire body knew better.
Slowly, I pushed the sheets aside. The black shirt slipped higher up my thighs as I moved toward the edge of the mattress. My pulse thundered painfully while I stood barefoot in front of him, close enough to smell whiskey on his breath.
Fear crawled through me. Real fear. Because Leo looked at me like a starving man trying not to bite. But I stepped closer anyway.
“You said tomorrow changes everything,” I whispered. “Will you touch me like I want you to tomorrow?”
His jaw flexed hard. “Go to sleep. No more questions.”
“No.” The word surprised both of us. My heart slammed wildly against my ribs, but I forced myself forward until only inches separated us. Heat radiated off his body in suffocating waves. I could practically feel the restraint vibrating beneath his skin.
