Page 44 of Summoned
“Do I have your attention now?” I say in a low murmur.
His fists clench atop his thighs. The chain makes a faint rattling sound. “You always have my attention, Baroness. Thequestion is—what will you do with it?”
My pulse quickens. I tilt my head back ever so slightly, letting my hair cascade over my shoulders. The movement exposes my throat, and the satin robe slips down my arms, revealing my shoulders.
The air between us crackles, an invisible current dancing over my skin. The clock ticks. Seconds pass.
Why do I feel as though I’m the one being tested?
If he were a normal man, I might lean in close and whisper that he could touch me…if he dared. But Gaetano isn’t a normal man—and I’m not certain I want to find out what would happen if he does.
Still, I’m not ready to lose.
“Now I understand why this is your favorite card. You can’t be tempted…” I let my fingers drift along my exposed thigh. His gaze tracks the movement. “Because you don’t like women, do you?”
Amusement flickers in his expression, but it quickly vanishes as his attention shifts elsewhere. More specifically, to my hand creeping up my thigh. Power surges through me, tipping the scales back in my favor. I interpret this as my signal to push forward. My voice dips lower. “Magic is your only weapon against me, isn’t it, Gaetano?”
His features darken in a second.
My fingers halt at the edge of my underwear just as the golden chain jingles around his wrists. Then, it vanishes into thin air. The atmosphere thickens, charged with the force of an impending storm. I swallow hard.
Before I can grasp what’s happening, he surges forward, towering over me and forcing me flat against the table, his body pinning mine down. One hand seizes my wrists, trapping them above my head; the other clamps onto my knee, fingers digging into my skin and anchoring me in place.
I try to kick out, but he’s too strong—his weight holds me fast. When he leans in, his torso presses between my thighs. A shiver coils low in my belly, unwelcome and confusing.
I hold my breath. He scans my features, causing the heat to intensify. They settle on my lips, and instinctively, I wet them with my tongue.
My heartbeat thunders between us. He’s going to kiss me.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach.
His scent fills my lungs. The distance between our mouths shrinks to mere inches.
His lips stop above mine. “You’re right, Baroness,” he murmurs. “Magic is my weapon. My kiss…is a reward you’ve yet to earn.”
His body presses fully against mine, making me aware of every sinewy muscle and solid line. Then, he pulls back.
It takes me a few seconds to understand what just happened.
A fire burns in my chest—part anger, part something much more menacing.
“Arrogant, self-obsessed bastard!” I shout, with no care whether my parents hear.
“The game is over,” he says. “You win.”
My lips part in startled disbelief, but the words never quite reach my tongue. The air around me quivers—rippling as if disturbed by some unseen wave—and in the blink of an eye, everything…disappears. Gaetano, the cards, the ticking clock. Even the table beneath me dissolves into nothingness.
A split second later, the ground rushes up to meet me. I land on the carpet with a sharp thud, pain spreading along my spine as the impact reverberates upward.
I barely manage to catch my breath before the door flies open with a dramatic swing and my mother bursts into the room. She hurries toward me, her silk nightdress flutteringaround her ankles. “Nicole, what on earth is going on?”
My gaze darts around the room, my pulse thundering in my ears. He’s gone. No cards, no sign of the Black Joker. Just me, disheveled, in nothing but a dressing gown, sprawled in a rather undignified manner on the floor.
“Nothing…”
My mother scans the room. “Then why did you scream?”
I press my lips together, scramble to my feet, and frantically smooth out the creases in my dressing gown. “I…tripped.”
