Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
T he rest of the dinner went off without me leading the conversation or putting my foot in my mouth.
I just focused on eating and followed the conversation, which flowed naturally, while ignoring Vince as much as I could.
“So,” Dante said while turning his attention to Vince, a sly grin spreading across his face. “What have you been up to lately?”
Vince shifted his eyes to Dante, and his jaw tightened.
And I couldn’t resist. “He meant apart from arranging marriages and kidnapping innocent people,” I quipped, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Shit. Why did I not just keep my mouth shut until we were through with dessert?
Vince snapped his gaze back to me, and I could practically see the storm brewing behind his eyes. Clearly, he was not amused. “I must have missed the part where it said ‘innocent’ in your dossier,” he shot back, his voice low and dangerous.
Hero and Dante exchanged amused looks, the whole table’s attention now fully focused on the growing tension between Vince and me.
Great. Just great.
I met his challenge head-on, refusing to back down. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t skip lines. For me, I re-read the part where it said ‘complete dickhead’ three times when I went through yours,” I retorted. “Oh, and the headline was ‘Vince the Evil Prince’, which now, I kinda know why.”
Oh, shit. What the hell was that?
There was a second of complete silence before Matt, Hero, Alex, and Dante exploded with laughter.
Before I knew it, Matt and Hero got up and rounded the table. They pulled back my chair, Dante helped me stand, and all three of them circled their arms around me and used me as the center point of some kind of group hug, laughing, piling on the jokes, and teasing Vince mercilessly.
All I could do was stare at them.
“I really, really like you, Jemma Donnelly,” Dante declared with a grin.
“You’re the first woman who’s not falling head over heels for our dear ‘Vince the Evil Prince’,” Hero said with a barely suppressed chuckle.
“See, I told you,” Matt said and winked at me.
I could feel Vince stare a hole in my head.
I shouldn’t have said anything. Didn’t I just decide I needed to keep my distance?
Taking digs at him was not that.
Even though his brothers loved it.
I extricated myself and took back my seat while they tried to outdo one another by finding words rhyming with Vince and finally fell into a playful banter like only siblings could.
Vince put up a brave front. He was all easy smiles and snarky digs toward his brothers while casting nasty glances in my direction.
He did not appreciate the honesty despite holding his own, seemingly undisturbed by the banter.
Was I the only one who could feel the tension radiating off him?
He glowered at me again from across the table, his jaw clenched tight.
I shrugged. I shouldn’t have said what I said, but he clearly had no sense of humor when it came to being the butt end of a joke.
He definitely needed to learn to loosen up a little.
That was probably what made pushing his buttons even more appealing for his brothers.
And for me.
On top of the rush of adrenaline that came with butting heads with him.
When his brothers finally settled down, his eyes never left me, and his dark gaze slithering over me sent tingles racing across my skin.
It was equal parts exhilarating and unnerving.
And when his attention on me became suffocating in its intensity, I jumped up and excused myself to use the bathroom.
Once inside, I caught a glimpse of my flushed cheeks in the mirror, my chest still heaving slightly from the regret but also from the thrill of our verbal and non-verbal sparring.
I splashed some water on my face, then took a deep breath to calm my racing heart. Being in the same room as Vince was exhilarating, stupid, and dangerous. But seeing him with his brothers, and butting heads—I couldn’t deny the rush it gave me.
Pure adrenaline.
Feeling slightly more composed, I left the bathroom and made my way back but paused before entering and observed the lively scene at the table through the doorway.
They all looked so comfortable with each other. Everyone—except Petra.
I looked sideways along the corridor toward the entrance hall where a couple of men in black suits were positioned. The interior decoration of the house was…different, to word it nicely. But it was an interesting building, with a lot of closed doors.
The pull of curiosity was too strong to resist, and since Mr. Salvini had left earlier and everyone else was occupied, it would be safe enough. So instead of rejoining the group, I decided to do a little snooping around the Salvini mansion.
The first door I opened led to a gently lit library, which was simply amazing. I looked upwards, expecting a ceiling, but instead, I stared at beautiful ornamental skylights. The room spanned at least two stories to house the towering shelves lined with rows and rows of books.
The scent of aged paper and leather filled my nostrils as I trailed my fingers along the spines, my eyes drinking in the titles.
I would not have expected this here, hadn’t pegged any of the Salvinis as big readers.
But there was a great mix between old books and recent ones—so somebody must be.
There was a massive desk in here, as well. Was this used as an office? Maybe I could find something juicy on the Salvini family here, something to get Vince off my back once and for all.
I rounded the desk and opened the drawers which were completely empty. There wasn’t a computer on the desk either, and no computer meant no digital snooping.
Disappointed, I turned my attention to the rolling ladder that stood invitingly before the highest shelves. I’d always dreamed of having a library like this, with a ladder to climb and explore the shelves.
Without a second thought, I grasped the cool metal rails and took a couple of steps. The whole thing swayed gently with each step—much more unstable than in my fantasy, actually.
I checked the books directly in front of my face. Some titles were Italian, some English. How fascinating.
I leaned as far to the left as I could reach and pulled a book out that had no title on the spine. It was an old book with dark red binding.
I flipped it around and smiled at the title, Around the World in Eighty Days , which was embossed on the cover in beautiful golden letters. I traced the symbol right under the title: a key with a circle. I’d never seen such an old version of this classic; was this a first edition? I hooked my arm through the ladder, then opened the book and was so focused on flipping through the pages that I didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until a deep voice shattered my peaceful moment.
“What are you doing?”
I whipped around, my heart leaping into my throat. Then looked down and found Vince staring up at me, his face an unreadable mask.
“Nothing.” I leaned sideways to the left to put back the book but couldn’t quite reach it.
I stretched myself and almost had it back in its original spot when he grabbed the swaying ladder and moved it slightly to the right—which threw me off balance completely.
I tumbled sideways, then out of reflex, I snapped back in an attempt to steady myself.
The book slipped from my hand as I swung back, and my knee connected with his nose in a sickening crunch, which threw me farther off balance.
I swayed, and my foot slipped off the ladder. I tumbled, desperately tried to find solid footing…which I didn’t.
He must’ve been as surprised as I was when I slipped down like in a bad anime, then crashed into him and took him with me to the floor in a tangle of limbs.
I landed with my body on his, my face only a quarter of an inch from crashing on the floor right between his arm and his chest.
For a moment, I simply lay there, dazed, until the deep rumble of his voice vibrated beneath me.
“You’re truly the most chaos-bringing, most annoying woman I’ve ever met.”
Heat flooded my cheeks as I scuttled back and pushed myself up a little, so I could look at him.
He raised his head, and a trickle of blood trailed from his nostril.
My chest tightened. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”
He let his head fall back down, slung his arms around me, and pulled me down against him. “Don’t talk.”
I braced my palms on his chest and tried to get up and off.
“Don’t move,” he growled.
I leaned my head to the side and stared at the sharp angle of his jaw from below. “Your nose is bleeding, though.”
He shook his head. “You’re unbelievable—as if everything that happened today wasn’t enough already.”
“Everything that happened today has everything to do with your actions, not mine.”
He remained silent, so I looked up and met the smoldering look in those dangerously dark eyes of his.
“What?”
His hands slowly crept up my backside, caressed my back.
That’s when I felt it.
My heart stuttered, and I froze while his bulge pressed against me, unmistakable evidence of his desire.
“Do not fucking move,” he growled.
I tried to stay still—I really tried—but I couldn’t. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the vein pulsing in his jaw either.
Oh, my God. Heat built in my belly, and for whatever reason, I had the irresistible urge to grind my hips against him. Just a little bit, just for a little tiny taste.
But before I could move, his large hands clamped around my waist, holding me firmly in place as he raised his head again and almost seared me with his heated stare.
“Why can’t you once do what I say?” he growled, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through me. “And what are you doing to me?”
Confused, I shot back, “Doing what? I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who’s been glaring daggers at me all night.”
A harsh chuckle spilled from his lips. “Does Evil Prince ring a bell?” He sighed. “My brothers like you.”
I blinked, thrown by the seemingly abrupt change of topic. “Most people like me,” I retorted, unable to resist a cocky grin as I focused on the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palms. “I’m usually a very likable person.”
His only response was a contemplative hum. Which honestly pissed me off a little bit, so I wiggled, which elicited a sharp exhale from him before he locked me down with his hands on my hips.
When the silence stretched, I found my gaze drawn inexorably to his mouth, to his lips which were slightly parted. “Why don’t you like me?” I murmured, transfixed before I realized what I’d said and clamped my mouth shut.
Too late.
His jaw tightened, those piercing eyes holding mine captive. “You know why.”
I shook my head slowly. “No, I don’t. Why do you want me to marry Matt?”
He exhaled, long and slow, and I felt the rise and fall of his chest against mine. “It’s the only way to get you under control, to neutralize you.”
Get me under control? Neutralize me? The words struck a chord, sending a tremor of unease through me. “This sounds like killing me would’ve been an option, as well.”
Instead of answering, he reached up and traced his fingers through my short hair—did I lose my cap again?
Shit.
I’d worn it all evening, and surprisingly, nobody commented on my missing wig.
His touch was featherlight yet left a scorching path across my sensitized skin.
I shivered, suddenly recalling that he hadn’t so much as batted an eye at my drastic change of appearance.
“I thought about killing you,” he said at last, his tone unreadable. “But the repercussions would’ve been considerable. Also, I’m not an amateur. I need definitive proof before I make the decision to kill someone.”
My breath caught in my throat. “And?”
A hollow chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest. “I’m still waiting on the evidence.”
“What if there isn’t any?”
He cocked his head and held my gaze. “There’s more than I have right now.”
I swallowed.
He stared at me, then nodded once as if he’d come to a decision. “I hated the thought of killing you almost as much as I hate seeing you with my brothers.”
My pulse skyrocketed, but I cocked a brow, aiming for nonchalance even as my pulse raced. “So what you’re doing right now is what? Masochism on your part?”
“It’s self-preservation.” His gaze turned molten, heating me up from the inside out.
Unable to resist the gravitational pull, I found myself leaning toward him, drawn like a moth to a flame.
His eyes flickered to my lips before they moved back up.
“You want to kiss me,” I said, the words a whispered, daring accusation.
“You’re going to be my sister-in-law.” His tone was harsh, but his eyes smoldered with naked hunger. “And you’re way too young for me.”
I let out a low, throaty laugh. “Well, you might want to tell that to your body, old man.” To emphasize my point, I rolled my hips ever-so-slightly, feeling him twitch beneath me.
He narrowed those piercing eyes. “You’re a brat, aren’t you?”
I grinned, unrepentant. “I’m just pointing out facts. That doesn’t make me a brat.”
He raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “The truth isn’t always so black and white, though. And facts aren’t always what they seem to be either.”
I stared at him. Was he talking about me? Or our situation? Or himself?
His jaw worked, but he said nothing as I pushed myself up on my elbows for the umpteenth time, putting some much-needed space between us. My eyes fell on his gorgeous lips.
His hands gripping my waist tightened.
“If we’re done here, how about taking your hands off me so I can get up and we can clean up your nose?” I whispered, my voice suddenly hoarse. I looked up, then down at his jumping Adam’s apple.
God, he was fucking gorgeous—even more so from close up.
I leaned down, then stopped myself at the last moment from pressing my lips against the vein on the side of his throat. What the hell?
I snapped my eyes to his. Could see the same desire washing through me mirrored in his.
Instead of releasing me, he slowly slid his hands from my hips to up my back and to my neck, cradling the base of my skull, then he continued slowly upward and molded his mouth over mine in a searing kiss, his lips dry and satiny against mine.
I saw him coming as if he was suddenly moving in slo-mo, knew about his intentions, knew what was next, and yet, I didn’t turn my head, didn’t suppress the gasp and the parting of my lips, didn’t close my eyes either.
As if that was enough invitation, he seized the opportunity, dove in, and deepened the kiss with a fiery intensity that stole my breath.
He played with my tongue, poked, then pulled back, invited me to play while he watched for my reaction and held my gaze—which was the sexiest thing ever.
I clutched his dress shirt over his chest as pleasure zinged along my nerves, sharp and dizzying.
This was Vince Salvini kissing me.
And it wasn’t some chaste peck—this was raw, primal need, undisguised and unrestrained.
And I was actually totally here for it.
I let go of the tension in my body, sunk heavy against him, let my eyes fall closed, and welcomed his tongue with long, languid strokes of my own.
Finally.
The sigh that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside of me surprised us both, and just as abruptly as the kiss started, it ended with him breaking away, staring at me for a moment, then pushing me to the side and climbing to his feet in one sinuous movement.
He hauled me upright, his eyes glittering with some unreadable emotion. “This never happened,” he growled.
For a split second, I was disoriented before I came back to my senses.
I glared at him, stung by the callous dismissal. “It wasn’t me who started it or wanted it anyway,” I snapped because even though this was complete insanity, somehow, this kiss and being in Vince’s arms had been better than anything I’d ever experienced; had felt like I could finally take a deep breath for the first time in forever.
And him dismissing it so easily—it was infuriating and humiliating. “I have no problem pretending it never happened,” I bit out, spinning on my heel and stalking across the room.
But before I made it even halfway, he bumped into me from behind, slung his arms around me, and splayed his hand over my belly.
“I didn’t say it wasn’t good,” he murmured against my ear. “I’m just saying not to mention it in front of them.” He nodded towards the door, then he bit the spot where my neck met my shoulder before he released me and shoved me towards the door.
I walked like a zombie, but I could feel the mark he’d left on my skin as much as the weight of his stare boring into my back every step of the way.
And both left me more confused—and conflicted—than ever.
What did he even mean?