Page 44 of Peasants and Kings
He stalked toward me, glasses in hand, and gave me one and then clinked his glass against mine.
“Saluti,” I murmured before taking a small sip. It burned and made my eyes water.
I quickly set the drink aside, resolving not to touch it again.
Hadrian saw my reaction and grinned before taking a hearty sip of his drink.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded, pressing my hand to my chest. “I think it singed my throat.”
“Brandy.”
“Yuck. Maybe it’s an acquired taste.”
He chuckled at my reaction. “Do you speak Italian?” he queried, peering at me with interest.
I’d let my guard down for a mere moment, and part of my past had barreled its way into my present.
I might’ve been going by the name Eden, but I still was very much Sterling. Sterling who spoke fluent Italian.
“Eden?” he prompted. “When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”
I did not like his tone or his high-handedness. And I did not like the fact that he’d had his fingers inside of me not ten minutes ago and now he treated me like he owned me.
But for the night, he did.
“Yes. I speak Italian,” I gritted out.
I tore my gaze from his and stepped away, moving further into the living room and pretending to understand the artwork I was seeing.
Now that we were inside the carriage house, in privacy, I expected Hadrian to rip my clothes off me and drive his body into mine. But he hadn’t made a move to touch me.
I was primed for him, and our conversation felt forced and awkward since I knew what was coming.
“You look exhausted,” he said finally.
I startled. “I’m not.”
“Eden,” he began. “You don’t need to lie to me. If you’re tired, you’re tired.”
“Okay, I’m tired.”
“Then let me show you upstairs.”
I frowned but nodded. He was a strange man, Hadrian. Alpha. Mysterious. Demanding. He had played my body like an expert and then seemed done with it, all at once.
“You look confused,” he said, setting his glass down on a dark wood end table and stalking toward me.
“Don’t you want more?” I blurted out.
He arched a brow but said nothing as he clasped my hand and led me up the wooden staircase. We walked down the hallway, past two bedrooms and a bathroom, to the last door.
“Master bedroom.” He waved me inside. I stepped in and looked around, my gaze landing on the large ornate sleigh bed.
What sorts of things will he do to me?
A shiver of want raced down my spine in anticipation. I turned in time to see him fling his bowtie onto the chair in the corner and then he went for the cufflinks at his wrists. He set them on the bedside table.
My gaze was riveted on the column of his strong throat that was now revealed. He shrugged out of the crisp linen he wore, tossing his shirt on the chair.
