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Every detail of his touch, his kiss, his reverent worship of her body—totally at odds with the fact they hated each other, and each other’s families. Totally at odds with the fact they’d both do whatever they could to bring the other one down, outside of the bedroom.

He was across the other side of the room, on a large table, that happened to include several of his family members. She did a quick stocktake of the Santoros who were in attendance—Dante and his wife, Georgia. Marco and Portia, Francesco.Without realising it, her lips twisted into a sneer as she regarded them with utter distaste.

“Yes, it’s less than ideal to spend a night having to breathe their air, isn’t it?” Her brother Max’s voice cut through her ruminations—or perhaps perfectly captured them. She slid her gaze sideways, and saw the same enmity in his features that she felt on her own.

Beside him, Max’s wife Andie grimaced. Their marriage had been born out of this feud. Andie had used the generations’ old war between their families to leverage Max into pretending to be her fiancé, in exchange for which she was able to negotiate a more favourable sale of her family’s business. But Emilia had always sensed that Andie felt a hint of compunction for what she’d done to the Santoros. She’d even heard Andie say, on one occasion, that she’d found Dante to be a very pleasant, decent guy to deal with.

A sentiment Emilia was incapable of sharing.

“Have you seen Leo yet?” Andie asked, clunkily trying to draw their focus away from the Santoros.

Emilia’s last thought, as she gave her sister-in-law the full force of her attention, was one of gratitude, as she ran a hand over her silky dress. It was one of her favourites, always giving her a boost of confidence, and now that she saw who was in attendance, she was glad she’d chosen it. If she were going to be face to face with Salvatore Santoro, or any of them, for that matter, she’d prefer it to be when dressed like this: to kill.

“No, I only flew back in this afternoon,” Emilia explained. Though she couldn’t wait to catch up with Leo and his fiancé Skye, as well as their daughter—whom Leo had recently adopted. “I’m going to their place for brunch tomorrow. You guys should come.”

“We wouldn’t want to impose,” Andie demurred, in that lovely way she had, of always thinking of others.

“Don’t be silly. I’m imposing—I totally invited myself. I’ll message Leo now,” she said, pulling out her phone with the intention of typing a message, only to find a text was already showing on her Home Screen.

From Salvatore Santoro.

Her heart leaped into her throat and without her realising it, her eyes flew across the crowded ballroom, to the Santoro table, only to find him casually reclined in his chair, eyes locked to her, expression laced with unmistakable mockery. When their eyes connected, his brows raised infinitesimally, and she felt the heat in her veins turn to rampant lava.

She glanced down again quickly, mouth dry, holding her phone at an angle to make it impossible for her brother to catch an unwitting glimpse of the screen.

Nice dress.

She frowned a little at the banality of the message, contemplated sending something back, then quickly shoved her phone into her bag.

“Did you message?” Andie asked, smiling with curiosity.

“Oh, yes,” Emilia lied, making a mental note to do so later. “I’ll let you know when I hear back, but I’m sure it will be fine. I’m bringing pastries and fruit.”

“Great,” Andie nodded, putting a hand on Max’s knee. “Brunch tomorrow?”

A glance at her brother showed that he was still staring at the Santoros, with that same look of pure hatred.

Something flickered in Emilia’s belly. Guilt. Shame. Because she shouldneverhave let things get out of hand with Salvatore. She should never have let their chemistry explode into actually having sex. What a mistake.

Even worse was the fact she hadn’t been with anyone since Salvatore. It didn’t help matters that she felt like a tinderbox, ready to go up in flames at the slightest provocation. And seeing Salvatore again wasdefinitelythat.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” she mumbled, eschewing the sweet white wine provided on the tables.

“Want company?” Andie asked.

Emilia shook her head quickly. God, no. She needed a second to get a hold of her thoughts. “I won’t be long. Need anything?”

Max threw his sister a glance, as though finally realising she was there. “Brunch tomorrow sounds good.”

She laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re about five minutes too late. But sure.”

As she walked away, she pulled her phone out once more, resolutely ignoring the top message on her screen, from Salvatore, she managed to indicate the change of plans to Leo and Skye, before reaching the bar and placing her elbows on it.

“Emilia Valentino?”

A man approached from her left. She vaguely recognised him, though she couldn’t say from where.

“Jock Jones. We met at that Homeless sleepout event last year.”