Page 37 of Thorns of Desire

After hours of flipping through the channels, I finally gave up, got to my feet, and headed to my bedroom. On my way, I passed Raven’s room, her soft snores curving my lips into a smile. Phoenix’s room was silent as always, and Reina’s restlessfootsteps indicated she was pacing around, probably trying to come up with a way to avoid her engagement to Dante Leone.

Wearing only an oversized T-shirt, I slipped into my bedroom, followed by my own personal demons, and crawled into bed. The windows were open, cool air filtering in and raising the hair on my arms.

My heart beat with a speed that confused me. I didn’t know whether a certain hot Italian was to blame or if it was something else entirely. As the city soundscape slowly lulled me to sleep, I somehow knew that life was about to change.

I woke up curled into myself and clutching blankets while the smoky masculine scent registered through the fog. It took only a few seconds for my brain to place it.

He’s here.

My eyelids fluttered open, my sight not yet adjusted to the darkness. I couldn’t discern between the general shapes of the furniture and the shadows stretching up along the walls. No movement. No sounds, other than my soft breaths. Nothing.

And just as I started to suspect that maybe it was all in my head, I heard, “I told you my courtship would start today.”

I let his words sink in, absorbing the vibrations of his tone. His voice did things to me that I had no business feeling for someone who was potentially connected to my dark past.

I didn’t move, but my mouth seemed incapable of remaining shut. “You shouldn’t sneak into my room. It’s called trespassing. You might not have it in Italy, but here in France, it’s a serious offense.”

“I thought you might like the company,amorina.”

I shifted onto my elbow and narrowed my eyes. There he sat, on the chair in front of my vanity, facing me, his ankle resting on his knee.

“You have some serious issues, you know that?”

His presence stirred every single atom in the air around me, and my body and mind were so attuned to him, I could practically feel him as if he were touching me.

When he remained silent, I added, “I’m definitely going to think twice the next time I meet a strange man in a bar and let him take me home.”

“I didn’t take you home,” he pointed out.

My voice was dry as gin. “Fine, take me to bed.”

“There won’t be any of that, Athena.” The way he said my name made my cheeks flush.

There was something different in the tone. That playfulness from earlier was gone, giving way to darkness.

The lamp on the vanity clicked on, partially illuminating his imposing frame. Shadows fell onto his face, giving me a glimpse of his tightly pressed lips, somewhat obscured by the dark stubble covering his jaw.

“You haven’t been honest with me,” he said, a storm brewing in his tone. My heart palpitated for several seconds, causing tightness in my chest and throat.

He knows.

I tried desperately to hold on to my cool, but I felt myself clutching at straws. How was I going to get out of this? If I shouted, would the girls wake up and come running?

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I choked out.

He tilted his head to the side, the silver at his temples catching the light. The man was more handsome than any other man I had ever met, but the power and darkness that rolled off his taut frame was what defined him.

Time was a peculiar thing. Weeks, days,yearshad gone by and I thought I’d forgotten the man, but in a faraway corner of my brain, he’d always been there.

“But I think you do,” he drawled. Anxiety squeezed my chest and a corner of his lips tilted up, making the lines on his face more prominent. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, Athena Kosta, the only daughter to Alexandra Maria Kosta and Atticus Popov.”

SIXTEEN

MANUEL

Iwas furious when the first piece of information came in—there was no disputing that fact.

Athena Kosta, daughter to Alexandra Bottelli, born Kosta, and Atticus Popov.