Page 7 of Seduced By the Enemy

“I can’t go in there like this, and you know it.”

“Why not?” His smirk made her itch to slap him.

“Oh—just—go to hell,” she muttered. Then, as an afterthought, “Actually, make yourself useful?—,”

“I thought I’d already done that. Three times, if I’m not mistaken?”

Heat bloomed over her face. “Hold this.” She shoved the mirror towards him. “And stop gloating. It’s not attractive.”

He shot her a look that was laced with skepticism but at least he did hold the mirror for her while she attempted to returnorder to her hair. It only took a few minutes, and it wasn’t quite the same effect, but at least the stylist had used enough of a setting spray that it seemed to want to be molded back into a bun shape.

“You should leave it out.” The husk in Salvatore’s voice was like a fresh breath of need, catching her by surprise. How could she possibly want him again? He was right—she’d been tipped over the edge of pleasure three times in under ten minutes. Her first assessment of him as ‘God’s gift’ was sticking. And, as with the first night they spent together, she knew it shouldn’t have happened, even when she easily accepted wild horses wouldn’t have stopped it.

“It would raise questions.”

“And your dress won’t?”

She threw him a frustrated look. “No, because you’re going to lend me your jacket.”

He laughed then, a sound of disbelief, but quickly sobered. “You don’t think that will raise even more? If I appear without a jacket and you’re wearing one all of a sudden?”

“I just need it to get to the ladies’ room. I’ll dry my dress there. Though next time, if you could show a modicum of restraint andnotruin my clothes, I’d be very grateful.”

“Next time, Emilia? Isn’t that a little presumptuous?”

Her lips parted in surprise at the stupid slip she’d made, and the way he’d easily capitalised on it. Embarrassment had her toes curling. “You’re right. Better to assume there won’t be a next time.”

“We’ll see.” His smile was all smug, and she could barely look at him, so she went back to fixing her face, pleased that she looked almost completely normal. “Jacket?” She held out her hand, not meeting his eyes.

He removed it, watching her the whole time—she could feel the heat of his gaze on her—before he handed it over. The secondshe pushed it on, she wished there’d been an alternative, because it was still warm from his body, and it had his citrusy masculine fragrance in it. She resisted the urge to breathe it in.

He turned and stalked up the stairs and she took a few moments to collect herself before following behind.

“I’ll leave your jacket here once I’m done,” she said, frowning as she looked around for her discarded underwear.

They were nowhere to be seen.

“Salvatore…” she looked at him helplessly, but his response was just a flicker of one brow. He walked back towards her, slowly, intent in his gaze.

“You have something of mine,” she said weakly—his proximity had made it hard to speak.

“And you can get it back from me…next time.” Then, he was kissing her once more, pulling her against his body, holding her there, all fire, flame and the same urgent need that had pulled them apart earlier, and six months ago. “You have my number, Emilia.” Another kiss. “Use it.”

Anger made her want to shout after him, “Never in a million years!” but it turned out, they had something in common after all: neither of them liked to lie.

3

SALVATORE SPENT THE REST OF THE night pretending he had no idea Emilia existed. Even when he wanted to sit there and stare at her, marveling at the way she looked so completely put together again, just like she had when she’d strolled into this thing ten minutes after it started, and his whole body had zinged with the force of a thousand electric shocks.

When he’d gone to get his jacket back, he’d found a ‘nice’ little surprise—she’d left a perfect lipstick kiss mark on the front lapel, so he’d had to spend a little time himself in the men’s room, seeing to that. But the whole time he’d wiped the lipstick off, he’d been laughing on the inside at her retaliatory mood.

He’d spent his whole life in a fight with the Valentinos, but actively fighting with Emilia Valentino was the most fun he’d had in a long time. Especially with the added advantage of getting to sleep with her.

Not that it would necessarily happen again. They both knew it shouldn’t. It was stupid—and had the potential to be hugely harmful to both of their families if they were caught. Maybe that was part of the appeal, though? Perhaps for a man like Salvatore, who’d never had any trouble getting women—from when hewas eighteen and shared a wild weekend with his first lover—the challenge just wasn’t there. And that sometimes meant the fun, too. While he liked being free to be with and go wherever he wanted, he realised now that he was looking for something more.

Something that sparked and zinged. And if that just happened to be the animosity between him and Emilia, so be it.

“I hate them so much.” Beside him, Salvatore’s cousin Raf’s voice was little more than a dark grumble. It was the first time he’d been out with the family since his marriage breakdown—Salvatore couldn’t say he blamed him. “Though in other circumstances, I wouldn’t mind getting to know her better.”

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