Page 39 of His Little Angel

His nostrils flare. In one swift movement, he pins me on the bed, his hand circling my throat. His body covers mine, heat pressing from chest to thighs.

“Try again,” he says. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing.”

He tightens his grip just enough to make my breath stutter. “Lie to me again.”

“I’m not—”

“Baby, look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

I do. His gaze drags over my face like he’s memorizing every inch.

“You’re angry,” he whispers. “At me.”

“Wow. Observant,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“Why?”

I push at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Too bad.”

“So leave,” I hiss.Like you always do.

Enzo laughs. “Not happening.”

His fingers press more firmly at my throat.

“Tell me.”

I clench my teeth. Hold. Hold. Hold—

Then I break.

“I want to see if you’re going to run,” I spit. “Okay? I want to see how long it takes before you get scared and disappear.”

“Mila.”

“No. Don’t ‘Mila’ me.”

“You can do whatever you want to me, baby,” he says softly. “Push me. Test me. Be as bitchy as you want. I’m staying. Forever.”

I swallow hard. “Because of the curse?”

I know all about the Morelli curse. I always hoped I’d be his damnation—and when I finally became it, it was too late.

He presses a kiss to my temple, then my cheek, my nose, and finally a soft peck to my lips.

“No,” he whispers. “Because I’m yours.”

Chapter Seventeen