Page 44 of Savage Vows

“You’re curious.”

I am. But if it involves more sex, I think he’ll be the death of me.

“It doesn’t.”

I frown.

He flashes a wicked grin. “No. It doesn’t involve sex.”

“How do you …?”

“You glanced down at the floor. And you blushed.” He sweeps his gaze over me. “I notice every little thing about you, Alessia.”

I know that’s true. No one has ever paid this kind of attention to me before. It’s sexy and unnerving.

“You’ll like my surprise. But if you’d rather wait for another day…” He shrugs. “It can wait.”

Even though I’m lethargic, he’s intrigued me, and I want to know what he has planned.

“Go.” He turns me and gives me the tiniest nudge.

As I take my first step, he lightly spanks my right butt cheek, sending a cascade of arousal through me once more.

What is happening to me?

When I reach the entryway, I stop and look over my shoulder.

Matteo is watching me, his eyes narrowed, as if cataloguing every detail about me.

Strange sensations tumbling through me, I hurry to my room to change into a pair of leggings, a long-sleeve sweatshirt, and a pair of sandals.

A little more under control and my unruly hair pulled back into a ponytail, I join him in the kitchen.

Every time I see Matteo he takes my breath away, but never more so than in this moment. And it’s not just from his dangerous good looks. It’s because of his complex personality. Hard. Implacable. Yet caring and considerate. And unrelentingly sexy.

The moment he’s aware of me, he puts down the Bonds phone that he’d been studying and quirks an eyebrow in my direction. An open bottle of wine sits on the counter, with two stainless steel tumblers next to it.

“Merlot?” he asks.

Dare I? I’m already so sleepy I could pass out standing up. But relaxing with him sounds appealing in a way it wouldn’t have just a few days ago.

In the end, I nod. “Please.”

After pocketing his device and pouring us each a cup and capping the containers, he moves to the security panel on the back wall and deactivates the alarm. “Grab our drinks?”

Since we’ve been back in Houston, we haven’t spent any time in his backyard, and I’d like to. The landscaping is lush and tropical, and he has a pool and hot tub. I can imagine it will be an oasis once spring truly arrives.

He holds the door open.

Remembering our night in the Mayfair courtyard, I walk past him, our bodies brushing, and awareness racing through me.

I’ve got to stop reacting to him this way.

After he resets the alarm, he takes his drink, then cups my elbow as we walk down the softly lit path. The humid night air wraps around me, and the world around us is quiet, almost as if we’re all alone.

We reach the garage closest to the main house. Nash lives in the apartment above a different one, but I have no idea what’s up these stairs. “Do you have a dungeon to have your wicked way with me?” I ask. Then I realize it’s the first time I’ve ever teased him.

“Are you hoping that’s what’s behind the door? Equipment to make you squirm and scream my name?” he replies, his tone as light as mine.

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