Page 79 of Precious Hazard

I reach for my wallet. “Too late for what?”

“For you to come to your senses. There are many prominent men out there, and one might end up snatching Tara away from you.”

“Yeah? Well, good riddance.”

Chapter 17

I press my purse to my stomach and inhale, staring at Satan’s door. He arrived home about twenty minutes ago while I was putting the final touches on my makeup. I heard him coughing out in the hallway, and he sounded much worse than yesterday. Stubborn idiot. I’m tattling to Sienna first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe she can knock some sense into her boneheaded brother.

Not that I’m worried about his health or anything. God knows, if DeVille dropped dead, it would solve a lot of my problems and… My stomach hits the floor. That cough really did sound serious. What if he’s actually sick?

Reaching into my purse, I take out my phone and shoot Sienna a quick text. Okay. There. I did my good deed. Now, someone else can worry about Arturo, and I can go back to not caring about him at all. It’s just… Ugh. Alright, maybe I do care. But only a little. Perhaps I should suggest we skip this stupid shindig? But even if I do, I doubt he’d consider it.

My fingers shake slightly as I lift my hand to knock. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous to face him. I do know it’s not because of the reaction I’ll surely get as soon as he opens his door. Am I anxious to see him because of what happened last night?

I can’t quell the hurricane of emotions that’s been brewing in me. Can’t dismiss the feel of his arms around me.The way he held me… Gently. With his palm stroking soothingly along my back, all while I frantically clung to him. The peace I felt in his embrace. The safety. For that brief moment in time, I finally felt like nothing on this earth could harm me. I wish I could forget it, but I can’t.

Something shifted between us, there in the dead of night, and I’m not sure if it was abadsomething or agoodsomething. As it is, one of the many barriers between us has disappeared. It’s like… like I don’t hate him as much as I did before. And, I don’t like it. Don’t like it at all. Don’t enjoy this feeling in the slightest. Especially because it’s directed at the man who chose to turn my life upside down. Ripped me away from my family, not giving it a single thought or harboring a moment’s regret. As if I’m some kind of toy for him to play with. So I refuse to feel anything for him other than disdain.

I came into this house with the intention of keeping Arturo DeVille away from me. Both physically and emotionally. That was my plan, my safety net. I’ve failed at one condition; I don’t intend to fail with the other.

Steeling my spine, I knock. Twice. On the other side, fast, measured steps. Approaching. The door slides open, revealing my annoying husband, who’s in the process of closing the clasp on his wristwatch. How can he make such a simple act look so sexy?

“You ready?” he asks while fumbling with the golden band. “We need to hurry if—”

The words die on his lips the moment he looks up. An outright hunger shines in his eyes as he stares at me. That look of desire, however, quickly morphs into shock as soon as he notices my hair.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he growls.

I grin. “What do you mean, darling?”

Arturo grits his teeth and takes a menacing step toward me. My self-preservation instinct has me retreating from him.

“You’re going back to your room”—another step closer—“and I don’t care how, but you’re going to fix that… that”—the final step makes me bump into a wall—“monstrosity and make yourself look normal.”

“No can do. There’s so much hair spray, I’d need to wash my hair. And if I do that, we’ll definitely be late.”

He doesn’t reply, but I see the muscle spasm in his stubble-covered jaw. Fury rises off him like a thick, dark cloud. Any moment now, he might strangle me. The gentle, caring man from last night is nowhere to be found.

Inside my chest, my heart feels like it’s being squeezed. An invisible hand has got ahold of it. That’s what I wanted, right? To bait him into being pissed off at me. If he is, it makes it so much easier to hate him. So much easier for me to forget… other things. So why am I not jumping for joy, having succeeded in my goal? Why do I feel like crying?

“I don’t see what the problem is,” I continue, digging my nails into my palm to make sure my voice won’t break. “I have not breached any of the terms of our agreement. The hairstyle is elegant. Regal even. I used a painting of Marie Antoinette as inspiration. Her appearance has always symbolized wealth and power. ‘The grander the hair, the higher the social status,’ they said. So I thought this would be more than suitable for tonight’s extravagant event.”

“Maybe in the fifteenth century!” he snaps.

“Actually, she lived in the eighteenth.”

Arturo’s nostrils flare. He plants his palms on the wall on either side of me and dips his head. That ravenous look returns as his eyes focus on my lips. “Will you at least remove the damn feathers?”

“I’ll consider it.Ifyou ask nicely.”

The lid of his left eye starts twitching.Oh boy. I appear to have hit dead center with that “ask nicely” comment.

He leans closer until our cheeks nearly touch. A pleasant quiver shimmers along my spine as his stubble ever so slightly brushes my skin.

“You seem to be very invested in finding ways to defy me,gattina.” His lips are right next to my ear as he whispers. Warm breath fans the delicate flesh of my earlobe. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Hmm?” His proximity is making my every fine hair stand on end. Inhaling the sweet aroma of woods and the exotic warm spice of his cologne, tempts me to turn my head and bury my nose in the crook of his neck. Just as I did last night. “And what have you concluded?”

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