Page 46 of His Little Angel

“No. Absolutely not.”

I kiss his jaw. “Come on.”

“Without the last one,” he growls.

“Without the last one,” I agree.

We end up at the bungee jump.

He’s still all alpha-maleI’ve got this, but I see the tension in his shoulders. He refuses to stand behind me; he insists on standing in front of me, as if he can block the fall with his body.

“Don’t you dare smirk,” he snarls.

“I’m not,” I lie.

He steps to the edge with me. His hand finds my waist—possessive, protective, shaking just slightly.

“You don’t have to do it,” I whisper.

“That’s the problem,” he says. “For you, I do. I’d do anything you ask… except letting you go.”

I don’t have time to swoon at his words, because he jumps, taking me with him. My heart drops, then launches itself into my throat. It’s exhilarating. I’ve never really been afraid of heights.He shouts something that sounds suspiciously likefuckmixed withI love you, but the wind steals it.

By the time we’re lowered back down, his hands are everywhere—checking me, touching me, cupping my face like I almost died.

Next stop:the reptile place.

The handler hands me a snake, and I hold it easily. Enzo goes rigid beside me.

“Don’t,” he warns.

“Don’t what?” I wiggle my eyebrows.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this—but don’t come closer.”

I take one step closer. “Want to hold it?” I ask sweetly.

“No.”

“Want it to kiss you?” I move my hand side to side, the snake dancing with me.

“Mila, I swear to—fuck—don’t put it near me—”

I laugh.

When the handler offers him a smaller one, he takes it.

His hands tremble. But he takes it.

Because I asked.

Because he’d burn for me if I told him to.

Because he’s done pushing me away—pushing us away.

When we finally leave, he grabs my chin and kisses me hard—angry, breathless, obsessed.

“Happy?” he mutters against my lips.