Page 36 of Savage Vows

“That will be all for the night,” he tells Nash after checking the security panel.

“Yes, sir.” He nods toward me. “Ma’am.”

He’s not going far, however. Nash has an apartment above one of the garages. He’s never more than thirty seconds away from anything Matteo needs.

“Now …” Matteo ensures the house alarm is set. Then he faces me.

Swallowing deeply, I desperately search for a means of escape. “It’s …ah …late.”

He grins. “Not even eight o’clock.”

I retreat until I’m brought up short by the kitchen’s marble-topped island.

“Come here.” He remains in place but crooks his finger in my direction.

Frantically I glance toward the entrance, where the staircase will take me to my room. But I know Matteo is faster than I am.

“You want to do as I say.”

His words are hypnotic.

I take a tentative step forward, my heart pounding in my chest. “No,” I whisper, unsure which one of us I’m trying to convince.

“You want to know what happens next.” His voice is a low, seductive rumble. “You want me to finish what we started. If nothing else, you’re curious.”

He takes another step, then another, until he’s standing right in front of me. His gaze is intense, hungry, as he looks down at me.

“Face away from me,” he commands softly. “Put your hands on the island.”

This can’t be happening.

My breath coming in short little bursts, I turn my back to him.

“Such a good girl.”

He’s close enough that his heat radiates against me.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulls down the zipper of my dress, his knuckles brushing against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

After brushing the material off my shoulders, he moves it down my arms. Then it whooshes down my body to pool at my feet.

I can’t believe I’m mostly naked in his kitchen. I’m exposed, vulnerable. My pulse is fluttering, and yet my sense of self-preservation is gone. He’s right. I do want to know what happens next.

In the car, he’d been sexy rather than scary.

“You’re exquisite, Alessia,” he murmurs. With tenderness he shouldn’t be capable of, he traces the line of my shoulder. “Absolutely fucking exquisite.”

The man I swear I don’t want reaches around me to cup my breasts through my bra. With a soft moan, I arch into his touch. Through the silky material, he sweeps his thumbs over my nipples, and they harden instantly.

“So responsive.” His approval is my sustenance. “Now face me.” He takes a half step back, barely leaving any space between us. “Now take it off.” He growls the command against my ear. “Let me see what’s mine.”

I’m riveted to the spot, unable to deny him anything.

Then, as if I have no mind of my own, I reach back to unhook the bra. It falls away, leaving my breasts bare.

Feeling ridiculously shy, I angle my face away from him, but he captures my chin, making me look at him.

His appreciation is evident in his sharp intake of breath.