Page 84 of Thorns of Desire

Gosh, when he uttered such sweet things like this, my heart threatened to melt away for him into a puddle at my feet. How was a girl supposed to remain sensible around him?

“Are you sure we’re not rushing this?”

“You said yes,” he stated calmly, but there was heat in his gaze that could light me on fire. “I don’t want to waste any time.” He took my nape with a calloused palm, holding me firmly. He bent down, his lips brushing lightly against my cheek. The light touch sent shivers through me. “I’m not getting any younger and I don’t want to give you a chance to change your mind.”

“What if it’s your mind that changes?” I retorted breathlessly.

“Impossible.”

Then he kissed me deeply, his tongue licking its way into my mouth. I fisted his suit jacket, pulling him harder against me. He groaned low in his throat, his free arm circling my waist, pulling my body flush with his. He devoured me, obliterating me with his lips in a way that made my toes curl. Our kiss was what every romance writer in the history of mankind had written—consuming and passionate.

Finally, he pulled back and pressed our foreheads together.

“Don’t make me wait,” he said softly, his words mingling with our heavy breathing. “Tonight, I want you in my bed as my wife.”

“Okay,” I heard myself answer, and I was rewarded with a smile that could easily melt an armor made of iron, never mind my panties.

Italian men certainly knew how to charm women into submission.

THIRTY-FOUR

MANUEL

The basement of the castle was musty and rarely used. Back in the fifteenth century, it functioned as a dungeon to detain captives and enemies of the family who owned the castle.

I hadn’t had the pleasure of using it… until today.

“You should let me handle it,” Enrico stated as we made our way down the stone steps. “It’s your wedding day.”

I flashed him a smile. “No fucking way. These men are after Athena. They’re mine.”

While I would regularly object to bringing these men anywhere near my home, especially with Athena here, I knew that time was of the essence. We needed to get to the bottom of the reason the Triads were after Athena.

“How did you find them?”

He shrugged. “I had Danil followed.”

My steps halted at the bottom step and I turned to face him. I took a breath and asked the question that’d been burning since we ran into him outside Athena’s apartment last night—after the men from that very organization had tried to harm her. Mygut warned that such coincidences didn’t exist, and I feared I was about to have my suspicions confirmed. “He’s working with them?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, and I felt my shoulders relax. “My men didn’t bug the room, so we have no idea what they discussed. But this guy was in the room with Danil when he talked to the head of the Triads, Qian Long.”

We resumed walking while I churned over this information. “Did you get anything out of Lykos?”

“Just that Athena’s mother is not to be trusted.”

I agreed with him there. “It seems to be a recurring comment,” I pointed out.

We entered the first cell, lit by a single naked lightbulb hanging in the center of the room. A small table sat in the corner with some coercion equipment while a man sat strapped to a chair, glaring at us, his eyes burning with hatred.

“You’ll pay for this,” he spat in a mixture of Chinese and heavily accented and very poor English. “You cannot touch the Triads without consequences.”

There was an unspoken rule between criminal organizations—no encroaching on each other’s business. The Triads hadn’t technically done either—yet—but the moment my ring was on Athena’s finger, any subsequent attack would become my business.

“Well, from where I’m standing, you’re on my territory, so I can do whatever I want to you,” I drawled, speaking in Chinese. Not too many of the Triads’ members could speak English, even less Italian. Enrico didn’t speak the language, but this concerned my woman, not his. “And now you’ve gone and involved my wife.”

Fear entered his eyes. “Your w-wife?” he stuttered. “You’re not married.”

I smiled viciously. “Oh, but I am.” I’d removed my suit jacket and had begun to roll up my sleeves. “Athena Kosta Marchettiè la mia donna. My wife.”