Sweet Temptation(45)

Daniele remained seated on my leg, and I kept stroking his little head.

“I hope you’ll talk to me one day. I’d love to hear your voice. You can talk to me about everything. I can keep secrets if you need me to. Okay?”

He looked over his shoulder, really looked me in the eye, and in that moment, he seemed so much older than almost three. “Your dad loves you.”

Daniele looked away and slid off my leg. He sank down on the floor with his tablet once more.




Cassio wasn’t home in time for dinner. It was a little past eight when I settled in the comfortable armchair in front of the fireplace in the living room, reading one of my favorite books. I’d considered doing Pilates or finishing my recent painting, but then I hadn’t found the energy to do it. My phone lay on the small side table, hoping for a message from Cassio. Friends from school had messaged me, but I could already feel that our friendship wouldn’t survive the distance. We’d never been the close friends you shared your darkest secrets with anyway. Maybe I should send Cassio a text to ask when he’d be home, but even though I had his number, we hadn’t texted yet. I’d considered sending him a photo from the dog park, but never did it.

An idea crossed my mind. I got up and went over to the liquor cabinet to the left of the marble fireplace. It was filled with several bottles of scotch, gin, bourbon, and all kinds of other spirits I didn’t know the first thing about. Remembering Cassio’s words that I wasn’t supposed to drink, I picked the most expensive looking scotch bottle with a name I couldn’t even begin to pronounce: Laphroaig, a limited edition. I poured myself a generous amount and took it back to the chair with me. Settling back down, I took a whiff and coughed, surprised at the smoky aroma of the alcohol. I sipped at it then coughed even harder, tears springing into my eyes. “Oh God.”

Why would anyone drink this by choice? Maybe it was a man thing. After I’d composed myself, I took my phone, lifted the tumbler to my lips, smiled challengingly and took a selfie. I sent it off to Cassio.

Laphroaig is keeping me company while you work

He saw my message almost instantly. He didn’t reply.

Annoyed, I set the tumbler and my phone back down.

Fifteen minutes later, the front door opened and closed. Loulou, who’d been curled up in her basket, stormed into the lobby, followed by Cassio’s disapproving voice.

“Loulou!” I called, grabbing the tumbler and taking another bigger sip. Loulou trotted into the living room and curled up in her basket once more. I quickly tossed my legs over the armrest, so Cassio would see my over-the-knee socks he hated so much. Then Cassio appeared in the doorway, dark and imposing, looking every bit the deadly businessman he was. He scanned me from head to toe, lingering on the glass still pressed to my lips, my flowery overall dress, and the black socks.

His anger was quick, morphing his face into a mask of even sharper edges. Briefly, my stomach clenched with fear, with the knowledge that I didn’t know anything about Gaia’s death, but I didn’t allow this emotion to take over. Cassio hadn’t done anything to me. Still, when he shut the door, my adrenaline spiked. He prowled toward me, but I didn’t move and took another sip from the whisky. It burned a trail down my throat, and heat began to bloom in my belly—not only from the alcohol. Something about the primal disapproval in Cassio’s face awakened my body in ways I couldn’t use right now. We had to talk about Elia, and I wouldn’t let sex get in the way of it.

“I don’t have time for games, Giulia. Was that photo meant to provoke me?” He stopped right in front of the armchair, tall and foreboding. He looked breathtaking and terrifying.

“No,” I said lightly. “I only wanted to keep you updated on my evening activities, considering how eager you are to control every aspect of my life.”

He bent over me, his muscled arms braced on the armrests. The expensive fabric of his jacket brushed my calves, and the friction, albeit distant, sent a thrill through me. Maybe it was the alcohol that made me so sensible to Cassio’s aura. He oozed dominance and primal sexiness. His eyes slid over my crossed legs, lingering on the sliver of naked skin on my upper thighs. Then he cast his gaze up. I swallowed at the intensity of his expression, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to devour me or spank me. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Elia. Don’t tell me he didn’t call you today. I bet you expect status updates on his mission every hour.”

His strong palm had somehow found its way onto the small patch of naked skin between the hem of my skirt and my over-the-knee socks. I felt the touch between my legs, wanted his fingers to move higher, but I reined myself in. He took the glass from me and downed the whisky. “I told you I don’t want you to drink hard liquor.”

“Because I’m not old enough.”

Cassio set the glass down on the table, leaning even closer. “Giulia.” The word was a low growl, full of warning. I didn’t care. His hand slipped higher on my leg, under my skirt, and his lips crashed down on mine. For an instant my body arched toward him, eager for the touch, the kiss, and what it promised. But I wasn’t going to let Cassio distract me with angry sex no matter how desperately my body wanted him. I pushed against his chest, ripping my mouth away from his. “No. Stop.”

Cassio’s fingers brushed my panties, soaked from our argument. He groaned. “What are you doing to me?”