Page 39 of Seduced By the Enemy

“But you’ve slept with her.”

“We did, yes.”

Emilia’s throat shifted visibly as she swallowed and for a second, she looked so vulnerable, another new emotion surged through him. A strong, protective instinct, that made him want to wrap her up in a huge hug and hold her tight, tell her everything was okay. That it would always be okay, because he’d make sure of it.

The whole idea of that was singularly terrifying, so instead, he held his ground. But when he spoke, his voice was softer, more placating. “I can’t change my past, Emilia.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“I saw an old friend, and I spoke to her. I did not kiss her, I did not sleep with her. It was just two people catching up, that’s all.”

“I saw the way you looked at her. The way she looked at you.”

“And it bothered you.”

Emilia’s gaze sparked like fire when it met his. “What the hell do you think?” Her hands were trembling as she stalked back to the door. “I can’t do this. I need you to go.”

He fought that with every fibre of his being. “Not yet.”

She closed her eyes, chest shifting with the force of her breathing. But he was no longer throbbing with need for her. Something more essential and basic had taken over, something that required him to think, and fix.

“That was thoughtless of me,” he said, admitting, for possibly the first time in his life, that his actions had the potential to hurt someone. Without his meaning to, he’d flaunted an ex-lover in the face of Emilia, and she was clearly unimpressed.

“It was just you,” she corrected. “You’re a playboy. You always will be. You fuck around like most people eat out. You must have hundreds of women in your past, and seeing them is inevitable. And Ihatethat it bothers me. I hate that I hate it. I hate that I care.” Her voice wobbled a little on the last word, so he closed his eyes and sucked that in. Really heard what she was saying.

What she wasn’t saying.

The admission neither of them wanted to make.

Until now.

“This is getting out of hand,” he admitted. “You’re not the only one who sees that.”

She took a couple of steps away from the door, towards him. “What does that mean?”

“I’m in your apartment,” he said, gesturing with his palm to the space beyond them. “I’m breaking the rules. Maybe the rules were always going to be impossible to hold, I don’t know. But what started off as something fun and light is just…different now.”

“You’re not having fun?”

“That’s not what I said. I want you more than I like. I think about you all the time. I have never been with a woman who’s gotten under my skin like this. And I kept telling myself it was because of who you are, and the fact this is totally off-limits. But the thing is, it’s not. It’s you.Youare under my skin. Not because you’re a Valentino, but because you make me feel things I didn’t know I was capable of. I’ve had sex with a lot of women, and I can’t change that. Up until this moment, I didn’t think I’d ever want to. But, when you see me with someone like Becca, please remember, you are literally the only woman who has driven me to despair by disappearing from my life. You are the only woman I have ever begged for a second chance. You are different, Emilia. And that scares the shit out of me.”

He closed the distance between them, needing to drag her into his arms then, to feel her against his body, holding her there like he could hug her into understanding. To his relief, she let him. She let him pull her against his chest, and keep her there. To press a kiss to her forehead, and breathe in her sweet, vanilla scent. And after a moment, her hands reached out and wrapped around his back, keeping him just where he was.

“Well, that I didn’t expect,” she said, on a small, husky laugh.

“No? Did you think I’d just let you block me out?”

“I didn’t think you’d care,” she admitted.

“Didn’t you? Come on, Emilia. Surely even without me saying it, you’ve seen how much this thing has grown and changed? You’re not what I thought you were, and this…this isn’t what I thought it would be.”

She nodded slowly, so her hair tickled his jaw. But he didn’t move away, because he didn’t want to put any distance between them. Not when it felt so good to have her right here, like this.

“What does that mean?”

It was the kind of question he usually would have run a mile from. Nothing meant anything. That was hismodus operandi.Ever since he’d broken a girl’s heart and learned nothing felt worse than that. Especially when she’d gone on to try to commit suicide, and left a note blaming him. He’d run a thousand miles from anything like commitment ever since, making sure he kept things safe and light, rather than risk inflicting that hurt on someone again.

“This has no future,” he said, voice gruff. But he needed to state that fact. They both needed to remember the truth of who they were. “You’re a Valentino,” he reminded her—and himself. “And I’m a Santoro. We know this has to end.”

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