Page 61 of Vicious Heir

Another kiss. This time deeper. It’s whiskey and mint. It’s the pinch of agony right before the flood of orgasm. “Thank you,” he whispers, and then he leaves the room.

My knees are weak. I nearly collapse. I steady myself, breathing hard. Every time he’s around, it’s like I have to struggle twice as hard just to keep myself upright.

Or else I’ll fall to my knees for him and pray, like a good girl should.

Chapter 21

Lucy

Donatella wasn’t exaggerating. Salvatore really is doing worse than the first time I saw him.

The doctor comes. He’s an older Spanish man who carries himself like an old-world royal. I hear him speak with Adriano after examining Salvatore, and the news isn’t good. “We’ll make him comfortable. If I’m right, there’s not a lot of time left.”

“It’s just so sudden.”

“This is how it happens. Very, very slowly, and then all at once. I’m sorry, Adriano. I really am.”

Then he leaves. I stay with Donatella and Salvatore for a little while longer, but the old man is agitated. He goes back to bed, and I slip out to make coffee.

I find Adriano in his office. His nose is buried in some kind of dossier, and he barely glances up when I put one of my teacups in front of him.

“Espresso?” he asks, sounding surprised. The little bone china cup looks tiny in his big hands. It’s very old, Victorian-era, with gold flowers. One of my favorite pieces.

“The way you like it.”

He drinks some and puts the papers down. For a second, there’s a brief smile on his face. “How’d you know?”

“I’ve seen you make it a few times now.”

“Didn’t realize you were watching.”

I don’t bother telling him that he’s all I can watch whenever he’s around. “Guess I’m picking up a few things.”

I go to sit in one of the guest chairs, but he pushes back from the desk and gestures at me.

“Come here.”

“I’m not really a lap kind of girl.”

“You are now. Come here, wife.”

My heart stutters. I lick my lips and think about disobeying him, but the look he’s giving me doesn’t leave any room for argument.

I go to him and sink down. The big man pulls me right into his lap, holding my hips as he pulls me against his chest.

I snuggle in close. I understand that he needs me right now. His father is dying, and there’s nothing he can do about it. The agony must be unbearable.

I feel so small as he tightens his grip.

“I haven’t been around much lately,” he says softly. He leans forward, his mouth nuzzling against my neck. “I’m going to change that.”

“I hope not on my account.”

“You don’t want your husband around?”

“My husband is a big scary brute.”

He laughs softly. His lips move up my throat. “You think I’m scary?”

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