7. Chapter 6 Ginevra
Soren steps toward me, each step removing more of the oxygen that surrounds me. The closer he gets, the harder it becomes to breathe.
“You’re spying on me now,” he accuses.
Why did he look so hot with a gun?My hand touches my forehead to see if I have a fever. I’ve never seen this side of Soren, and I should be terrified. I definitely should not be thinking how hot he is.
I swallow the lump in my throat, the action drying my esophagus to an uncomfortable degree. “You deserve better than that,” I whisper.
His tone seeps with disapproval. “You didn’t think that when you attacked me with bear spray.”
His eyes sweep up and down my body with a detached scrutiny until our eyes hold. The air charges with our standoff, sending goosebumps down my skin. My muscles draw tight in the cooler night, the chilly air fanning across every inch of exposed skin. A mix of unease and lust twists deep within me under his dark, unforgiving eyes. I’m practically panting, and that charged air is about ready to combust around me.
I take a step back, needing space, but he closes the gap until my back hits a tree.
“Did you enjoy your peeping Tom show?”
My eyes grow wide and I can feel a flush warm my skin. “It wasn’t like that.” The words are hard to push out and I want to tell him I came here to say sorry for my behavior, but I can’t seem to say anything else.
“I bet you can’t get yourself off, so you have to look through windows and watch unsuspecting people fuck. Is that how you get yourself wet, Ginevra?” He never calls me by my full name, and it causes a shiver to race through me. Dark amusement slides through his eyes as he takes in my reaction.
Soren places a hand on the tree, leaning in. I’m so tiny next to him. His broad shoulders block the light from the party and shadows dance across his facial features.
He leans in even closer, his breath hot on my ear. “Are you wet now? Does your pussy ache to be fucked?”
My mouth hangs open, my brain not quite processing the words he’s saying. I’m flustered, not knowing how to respond. I’ve never seen two people have sex before, and everything he is saying is true.
“I bet you’re a slut who…”
My hand flies from holding on to the tree trunk to his face. The sound of the slap echoes around the yard.
“Don’t you dare take your anger out on me, Soren Moretti. I’m sorry you’re hurting—”
He cuts me off. “You are way off base, Gin. Nothing Karissa can do will ever hurt me.”
He takes a step back and readjusts his suit jacket, his splinted hand standing out. His eyes are less black than a moment ago and that crazed look he had softens then vanishes entirely.
“Do you love her?” I press.
His lips twist as his eyes flick toward me. “Save me your psycho-babble bullshit.” He adjusts his cuffs.
“Soren.”
He huffs out a loud breath. He’s not going to answer me. I begin walking back to the tent and he matches my steps.
“I’m not the fall-in-love type of guy. You heard her. I don’t have a heart. Even you have told me that on more than one occasion,” he confesses, running his hands through his hair before lowering his sunglasses to cover his red eyes.
“Want to know what I like about us?” I don’t wait for him to respond. “We may not get along, but we’ve always been honest with each other.”
“If you breathe a word of this, I will destroy you. Your mother wants you to have an arranged marriage and I will get you one. You won’t like the person I pick. You’re not like me. You want love and I’ll make sure you’ll hate the rest of your life.” His attempted threat falls flat.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not telling a soul. So out with it, do you love her?” My heart speeds up as I wait for the answer I’m not sure I want to hear. What he’s about to say should have no bearing on me, yet I’m hanging on every word like it does mean everything to me.
He levels me with a look that makes my heart beat faster.
“No. I need a wife for my inheritance.”
Inheritance? Huh, that’s something I’ll never experience. It sounds complicated and troublesome, anyway.
His good hand slips into his pocket and pulls out his phone. It takes a second for him to read it and whatever stalemate we may have had is gone the moment his eyes land back on me. His facial features contort when he looks at me, giving me the impression that I’m no better than the gum stuck on the bottom of his shoes.
“I have to go.” He pauses before adding, “Don’t disappoint me by telling anyone what you saw.”
I nod, watching him walk away until he slips into the tent. I fucking hate parties. My legs are stiff with each step I force them to take, the music grating on my ears. I pull out my phone that’s tucked into my bra and see I still have another two hours of this misery.
I hang out in the shadows, not wanting to go back, while all the questions I should have had earlier come flowing to the forefront of my mind. Why did Soren have a gun? He wouldn’t kill Karissa for cheating on him, would he?
A bang has me jumping. Was that a gun? My ears strain to hear more. No. Soren wouldn’t actually kill anyone, especially not with a hundred people in his yard. But why don’t I believe that?