Chapter 12
SEBASTIAN
Madonna santa. I needed to control myself better around this woman.
After seeing that half-empty champagne bottle in front of her at the café, I had no fucking business kissing her.
With a low curse, I swept her into my arms.
Fortunately, my car unlocked as I approached, allowing me to open the passenger door and gently place her inside.
Reaching over her slight frame, I buckled her in, brushing a stray curl from her flushed cheek. Whether the color came from the champagne or my kiss, I didn’t know.
What I did know was that she looked dangerously beautiful.
Once again, unease twisted in my gut, sharp and unforgiving.
Sacrificing the future of my family’s hundred-year diamond dynasty over some inconvenient ethical qualms wasn’t an option.
Not for me. Not for her.
I slammed the car door shut, my fingers curled into a fist.
As I got behind the wheel, I looked over at Sabrina.
It would have been easy—so easy—to drive straight to the airport. My corporate jet waited in a private hangar, guarded by Diamanti security. By the time she woke, we’d be in Rome.
She’d have nowhere to run, no one to turn to for help.
The sick truth was, I owned that city.
Money didn’t just buy luxury; it bought silence.
Fuck that. That was my father’s way. This revenge plan might reek of his influence, but I was determined to see it through on my terms.
And that didn’t include dragging Sabrina to Italy against her will…at least, not yet.
I pulled up to the private entrance of the Hotel Shangri-La, reserved exclusively for their most elite clientele. After waving the valet off, I carefully lifted Sabrina into my arms. She made a soft, kittenish sound, nuzzling her cheek against my shoulder.
A porter rushed ahead to press the elevator button for the terrace penthouse suite. I held her close as we stepped inside, her delicate perfume filling the confined space.
She stirred, a soft moan slipping past her lips as her back arched instinctively. “The room is spinning.”
“Shhh, mia piccola. I’ll have you safe and warm in a minute.”
Her eyes stayed closed, her brow furrowing in adorable defiance. “You’re lying.”
I tightened my grasp.
A Diamanti security guard nodded as I approached, swiping the suite’s key card to open the door without a word. I paid them not to ask questions.
Traveling with guards was a necessary inconvenience of my lifestyle. I didn’t like being shadowed, but it wasn’t my person they usually needed to protect. It was my cargo.
Thieves assumed diamond merchants traveled with diamonds. They’d be correct. Stored in my suite were several million euros' worth of diamonds I’d brought from Italy for private deals in Paris.
Diamonds were the world’s currency—portable, untraceable, and universally valuable.
CEOs and warlords alike valued their glittering weight. I’d met both in the same afternoon, and neither surprised me anymore.
Diamonds didn’t discriminate.
Soft light illuminated the lavish sitting area, a blend of cream, china blue, and gold. With Sabrina held close, I carefully made my way through the elegant furniture to the main bedroom. Although the suite had a guest room, I carried her straight to my bed.
I placed her on the edge of the mattress, removing her coat before she fell back against the plush duvet.
Kneeling, I slipped off her gold heels. A flash of anger ripped through me. She was damn lucky she hadn’t broken an ankle hobbling around in these ridiculous five-inch stilettos in her state.
Swinging her legs onto the bed, I shrugged out of my coat and stared down at her.
My prize.
Her dark curls gleamed against the crisp white bedcover, a vivid contrast to her flushed skin. Although slight in height, her body was a masterpiece of soft, feminine curves.
I loved a woman with curves.
It was a hazard of my profession that gaunt, hollow-eyed women with protruding hipbones and sharp edges perpetually surrounded me. That look never appealed to me. I liked a woman who could fill my hands with soft, warm flesh, a woman with passion for life, for me, for food and wine.
I grazed the backs of my fingers over her cheek.
Fuck, she was beautiful.
Her delicate features, the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts—everything about her invited me closer. Even the dark sweep of her thick lashes, concealing those sapphire eyes that sparked with so much fire when she was awake, called to me.
It would be so easy to wake her with the thrust of my cock.
I traced the curve of her thigh, the soft fabric of her embroidered vest a delicate barrier under my palm.
Would she surrender willingly, wrapping her legs around my hips with abandon?
Or would she fight me, wild and fierce?
Blood rushed to my cock as my mind conjured the latter.
I imagined flipping her onto her stomach, forcing her to her knees, her silky hair wrapped tightly around my fist. I’d thrust into her from behind, holding her steady as her back arched, feeling the curve of her ass pressing against me.
I’d fuck her like an animal, without remorse, without hesitation, without morals.
My fingers lingered over her embroidered vest, savoring the way she’d obeyed my order to wear the lace shirt beneath it. As much as I appreciated her compliance, the fabric robbed me of a glimpse of her breasts.
My hand drifted over her stomach. Was her navel pierced? No, I couldn’t imagine her defying her overprotective mother that way.
At least, I hoped not.
I wanted the pleasure of ordering her to pierce her belly—and her nipples. My plan was to bedeck my bride in diamonds.
But a necklace or bracelets weren’t good enough. Not permanent enough. I wanted her to feel the pain of my ownership, the intimacy of it. I wanted to see her flesh marked as mine.
She would be my living trophy, a testament to my dominance—and my victory over her father.
I unbuckled my belt and slipped it off, running my hand along the smooth leather.
Would my little innocent respond to my rougher tastes in bed?
Would it stop me if she didn’t?
She would be my wife, under my control.
The very idea that this sweet creature, lying prone and defenseless before me, would—after a few hollow vows and a priest’s blessing—become mine to command, to shape, to own, thrilled me. Because once the world called her my wife, she’d never be anything else again.
I would own her, body and soul…with God’s blessing.
She would answer only to me.
The food she ate, the bed she slept in, the clothes on her back—everything under my control.
It was an intoxicating thought. Evil almost.
Unbidden, a vision of Sabrina crawling naked across the floor toward me entered my mind. Her hair cascaded over her back, framing the soft curve of her swaying body, each movement deliberate, sensual, and meant to please.
My fingers clenched around the belt as I envisioned her ass marked from its leather kiss.
I ran the edge of my palm over my cock through my pants to ease the growing ache. I could already feel the teasing vibrations of her throat as she cried out from each strike of my belt on her ass while I made her suck my cock…like a dutiful wife.
The corner of my mouth lifted.
Apparently, there were more benefits to this fucked-up plan than I had initially allowed myself to consider.
But that would all have to wait.
I might be my father’s son, but unlike him, I considered sex a participation sport.
That didn’t mean I was going to let her spend the night in a stiff couture vest and tight leather pants.
Tossing my belt onto the nearby ottoman, I sat on the edge of the bed and slowly unbuttoned her vest.
Her eyelids fluttered open. “What are you doing?”
“You’re drunk, dolcezza. Let me help you.”
She frowned as she pulled the sides of her open vest together and tried to rise. “Wait, you can’t…we can’t.”
“You’re safe.” I pressed my hands against her shoulders. “As tempting a morsel as you may be, I still have a shred of decency left in me.”
A very tattered and worn shred.
I slipped her right arm through the armhole of the vest, then her left, before pulling it out from beneath her and tossing it aside. My fingers grazed her stomach while I reached for the waistband of her pants.
Her eyes widened as she closed her hands over mine.
I shifted, placing my hands gently over hers. One by one, I lifted her hands to my lips and pressed soft kisses to the back of each.
“I give you my word, dolcezza. No harm will come to you tonight.”
She blinked several times, trying to keep her eyes open.
I knew there would be no more resistance, so I slipped her pants over her hips and down her legs to toss them aside. With extreme discipline, I avoided caressing her exposed creamy skin or even allowing my gaze to linger on the tempting, lace-covered juncture between her thighs.
I might be playing the gentleman, but I was still a man.
A man who, until now, had never broken his word.
But there was a first time for everything, including under such tempting circumstances.
After I scooped her into my arms, I pulled the blanket back, laid her down, and tucked her in. After warming a cloth, I returned to the bedroom and wiped away the traces of her makeup, softening her edges for sleep.
As I finished, she opened her eyes again. Since I couldn't get all the makeup off, an alluring smoky shadow from the watery remnants of her mascara framed her eyes. Christ, even with smeared makeup, she was still the most beautiful creature I’d ever laid eyes on.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
I poured some cool water into a cup from the crystal carafe left on the bedside table by the hotel staff. As I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, I lifted her until she leaned against my chest while I reclined against the headboard. From this position, I coaxed her to take a few sips of water.
“I’ve already told you. I’m not nice. I’m a cruel man. You’d be wise to remember that.”
She rubbed her cheek against my shirt as she giggled. “No, you’re not. You’re like a big, grumpy teddy bear.”
Unable to resist, I leaned down and kissed the top of her head while I ran my hand down her back, smoothing her hair. “Go to sleep.”
I held her until her breathing evened into sleep.
* * *
After pouring myself a drink, I was drawn back to the bedroom. With my shoulder against the doorframe, I watched her.
She had turned onto her side and curled up under the covers.
I tightened my grip around the glass to steel my resolve against the vulnerable sight before me. “Soon enough, you'll see the true depth of my cruelty.”