Page 137 of Dancing with the Devil

“I did no such thing,” he grinned, hovering the glass over his lips with his head slightly tilted back.

“Let’s just get one thing clear,” I softly said and I could tell that I had his full attention now. “You don’t know anything about me and clearly your son doesn’t want you to know anything about him either. So, don’t try and intimidate me because it won’t work. If you want to know something, you can go directly to your son, because trust me, you’re not getting anything out of me.”

“You’re a cheeky little thing,” his right eyebrow lifted.

“No. I just don’t take crap from disrespectful old men.”

His jaw tightened and I felt the air shift beside me as an arm wrapped around my waist. “Mamma needs your help in the guest bedroom.” Antonio’s voice was stern.

“No, ‘hello’?” his father grinned and Antonio’s hand tightened on my waist. Bruno finished his champagne and handed me the glass. “You know where the kitchen is, don’t you love?” he taunted and his eyes shot up to meet Antonio’s.

“I wasn’t put on this earth to do a man’s bidding,” I said, putting the glass out against his chest.

When he didn’t take it, I dropped it, and the glass shattered into a million pieces on the floor. Something dark and disapproving flashed across his face, and I showed him a polite smile. His body jerked as if he wanted to step closer to me but he knew Antonio wouldn’t let him get that far.

“You’re making my mother wait for you and I don’t like it,” Antonio broke the silence and his father’s deadly gaze snapped up to him.

“You’re speaking down on your father now?” he stepped closer to Antonio.

“I’m not going to disrespect my fiancée by arguing with you right now.”

His father scoffed, looking down at me. “You’re turning him soft, I see.” Mr. De Luca looked me up and down before stepping around Antonio.

Antonio stopped him by grabbing his upper arm. “Don’t come intomyhouse, disrespectingmyfiancée. Or we’ll have that talk you so desperately want in a boxing ring.”

His father met his eyes and Antonio grinned. He muttered something in Italian and his fathers jaw ticked before he pulled away and disappeared.

The staff immediately rushed towards us and Antonio gently took my arm, stepping back.

Picking up my dress, I left the room and headed out to the pool area—I needed to breathe. Soon, Antonio joined me and I immediately apologized. “I’m so sorry, I really am—he just kept insinuating these awful things and I tried being nice—” he cut me off by grabbing my waist and kissing me. My body stilled, until he slowly broke the kiss.

“Don’t be sorry.”

“What? I thought you’d be mad at me…”

“I don’t fucking like the man either,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Why do you not like him?” I asked and his expression changed. I automatically shook my head, brushing it off. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

“If anyone else gives you crap in this house I don’t want you to hold your tongue, do you hear me?” he asked and I nodded.

“When have I ever held my tongue, De Luca?” I whispered and he smiled.

Leaning up onto my toes, my lips met his in a passion-filled kiss. He wrapped both arms around my waist, pulling my body towards his.

“Antonio!” his mother hissed, hitting his arm and we broke the kiss. “Stop it!” she demanded and he lifted his arms, trying to shield himself from her. “Lord, please forgive my son,” she said, signing a cross across her chest. “He does not know how to stop sinning!” She hit his arm again and I hid my smile as I tried not to laugh.

“Ah, Mamma,” he groaned. “She’s my fiancée—”

“She’s not yourwifeyet! Stop corrupting her!” his mother reprimanded and I heard Amelia snicker. “May the Lord be with your sinful soul,” she prayed and walked over to me. “Come child,” she carefully took my arm, and I looked back to see him throwing his head back.

I smiled, watching him drop his head before our eyes meet. Shrugging my shoulders I laughed, walking inside with his mother.

She introduced me to Antonio’s cousin’s wife, Aurora. I tried putting my hand out but she pulled me in for a hug. I guess they’re huggers.

Her name perfectly defined her. She was soft, delicate and full of light. Aurora had a five-year-old son—Emmanuel, and her baby was also due in a few weeks and everyone was over the moon. “You look amazing,mi amore,” Aurora smiled.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a step back to admire her dress. “You look incredible, Aurora. Baby bumps suit you,” I nodded.