Page 117 of Salvatore

“Okay.” I raise my palms in apology. “I admit it wasn’t a little bit at all—the guy is hung like a Polynesian warrior—but it meant nothing. The same as today. Can’t we just control-alt-delete this and move on? I don’t plan to even look at him again.”

Her glower deepens. “For starters, I don’t believe you. But what’s more concerning is that I don’t think you have any idea who he actually is.”

“I’m notthatcooked, Liv. I realize his family doesn’t exactly host bake sales.”

“So you’re aware the guy who was just rummaging around in your pants like he was looking for spare change is in training to take leadership of the East Coast mafia?”

My pulse falters.

“You heard right,” she grates. “He’s in the thick of it. Soon to be at the very top.”

Oh, shit.

“Did he take advantage of you?” she asks. “Given what you’ve been through?—”

“No.” I shake my head. “It was more of a reckless collision of insane chemistry.”

She screws up her nose. “He’s hot, but he’s an asshole. He’s narcissistic, manipulative, volatile, and a completely psychotic asshole.”

“You said asshole twice.”

“It was deliberate, and now isn’t the time to start critiquing me.”

“Understood.” I nod.

“I just really don’t get it. You andSalvatore Costa.” She shudders. “How is this even a thing?”

Again I wince. It’s a permanent fixture at this point. “Look, I agree with everything you’ve said… and it’s not like this is anactual thing…”

“Why does it feel like you’re pausing before you saybut?”

“But…” I paste on a pained smile. “He’s not all bad. He also rescued me from Gabriel’s apartment—where he almost got shot. And put me up here—where I’ve had all my needs catered to.” I fling an arm toward my room. “He even arranged that stylist. So he’s not acompleteHannibal Lecter… right?”

She glances away, clearly unwilling to acknowledge the potential good in him.

“Don’t get me wrong.” I hold up my hands in defense. “I’m not saying he’s God’s gift to women—well, not other than physically… and definitely sexually—but I can’t be the only one who sees the redeeming qualities.”

He’s taken his time with me, every touch deliberate, every moment stretched thin with intensity while his eyes sought out the vulnerable emotions I tried to hide.

Liv crosses her arms over her chest and stares at the hallway wall, taking long seconds before she hikes a shoulder in a defensive shrug. “Okay, so he might not be complete trash.” She sighs. “He did arrange for your apartment to be packed up and your items placed in storage to stop your family from destroying them.”

He did?

My traitorous stomach flutters.

Liv pivots back to me. “But that’s probably because he wanted to go through your pantie drawer. You should probably check to see if he’s wearing your underwear.”

“I guess it’s the thought that counts… and it’s not like he doesn’t have the ass to pull off a purple G-string.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Come on, Liv.” I step closer, playfully bumping my shoulder against hers. “It’s just chemistry and hormones. Mine have been all out of whack since the abduction. It’ll wear off soon.”

“It will wear offright now.”

“But he really knows his way around a woman’s?—”

“Do notfinish that sentence,” she warns. “I will hurt you.”

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