Page 30 of Kissing the Villain

“You had sex with her,” I whispered. “Didn’t you? It’s so obvious.”

Unamused, he narrowed his eyes at me.

“I knew it.”

“Are you intentionally difficult? Or is this act just for me?”

“Little old me?” I gave him a shit-eating grin. “I wouldn’t dream of being difficult. I’m as sweet as a Georgia peach.”

He glowered at me.

“When can I shower?”

No answer.

I shook the plaster from my hair onto the table, earning a sneer from my captor. After hours of standing on a scaffolding ladder with my arms above my head, working on a fresco, my muscles ached, my hair was a mess, and my clothes smelled like chemicals.

“When we’re at a safe altitude, you can shower.”

The flight attendant reappeared with a glass of amber liquid and set it in front of Marcello, shaking her big tits in his face. “We have a bottle of Cheval Blanc from Mr. Salvatore’s private collection,” she told me. “But I’m afraid I can’t open it without his permission.”

I glanced across the table at Marcello.

“She’s referring to my father.”

I waggled my eyebrows at him. “Well, he’s not here. So, that makes you the boss. Can I have a glass of your dad’s fancy wine?”

A flash of either desire or anger flickered in his eyes as he studied my face. It was hard to tell with Marcello. Then, he said to the flight attendant, “Open it.”

She seemed surprised by his response, leaving our table without further instruction.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” he snapped.

“I’m not bad company. Maybe you’d see that if you stop acting like a jerk.”

His jaw tightened.

“Will my grandfather meet us at the airport?”

Dead silence.

“Why are you here instead of Pops?”

No response.

“What do you do for Salvatore Global?”

He tapped an onyx ring on the table. “You talk too much.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation with my kidnapper.”

“I didn’t kidnap you, Alex.”

“Kinda feels like you did.”

The flight attendant handed me a glass of red wine, looking at Marcello. “Can I get you anything else, Mr. Salvatore?”

He shook his head.

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