Reign (The Syndicate_ Crime and Passion Book 2)(31)

“Not a happy ending?” I said.

She shrugged. “I just assumed he worried Santo wouldn’t approve, and my sister’s not one to wait around, so she left. That’s my theory, anyway.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“Ask who? Giovanna was gone. Vincent is an asshole. So I pieced together what I could,” she said.

I took a bite of the salad, enjoying the crisp vegetables and bite of the citrus dressing against my tongue.

“This is delicious,” I said. Then I paused, looked at her, and she looked over at me, her eyes questioning as I began to smile.

“What?” she said.

I smiled brighter. “Nice girl like you using language like that,” I said.

“That surprises you?” she asked.

I lifted my brows, and she looked at me, blushing.

“What?” I asked.

“The things I do with my mouth,” she said.

I tilted my head causally, though I had instantly gone hard. “I think I need another demonstration,” I said.

She smiled again. “My pleasure,” she said.

Then she sobered and daintily folded the napkin she had placed over her lap and sat it next to her dinner plate before she looked at me again.

I pushed aside my plate and looked back. Her expression was serious now, and I waited.

“Thank you,” she finally said.

Those words were not ones I had been expecting.

“For what?” I asked.

“You didn’t have to fix the door, but I appreciate that you did,” she said.

“Oh,” I said, thinking back to the door. “The color doesn’t quite match, but I think it looks okay.” I reached into my pocket and retrieved a key. “Here’s the key.”

Her brows furrowed and she looked down at my hand in disbelief. “You’re not mad that I went back? You don’t care if I go again?” she asked, voice almost a whisper.

“Daniela, you’re not a prisoner. You live here, but you can go where you like,” I said, angry at Santo for teaching her to expect so little, equally determined to prove to her that I was nothing like him.

“Thank you,” she said again.

But this time she reached for my hand and the weight of her smaller fingers on mine, the softness of her skin was more noticeable now, and I began to respond.

“You’re welcome,” I said.

Then I turned my hand so that my palm touched hers.

Her dark eyes on mine, I closed my fingers around hers. Then I stood from the chair as I lifted her from hers.

There were so many words I could think of, things I could say, but words would complicate this, make this undeniable moment between us something else.

I didn’t want that.

Because here and now, I was not Sergei, representative of the Syndicate, and she was not Daniela, daughter of a slug of a man.

I was simply a man who wanted a woman, and she was the woman I wanted. The one who wanted me back.

There was no doubt of that, not at all.

I couldn’t believe how mistaken I had been before, when I’d thought Daniela was good at hiding her emotions, her thoughts.

She wasn’t, and I could read them clearly now. Saw the desire in her eyes, saw how much she wanted me to fulfill it.

Knew how much I wanted to do the same.

I pulled her close, and then slowly pressed my lips against hers.

The need to take her was almost urgent, one I didn’t want to hold back on, but I did and instead, I kissed her slowly. Teased at her lips slowly, but I didn’t press my tongue into her mouth.

I just kissed her until she sighed, her breath warm against my lips. It was she who finally deepened the kiss.

She put her tongue in my mouth and then coaxed mine with her own.

I was helpless to deny her, and I took over, deepened it, kissed her with all I had.

Moments later I broke away, looked down at her. She was tall, not nearly as tall as me, but still tall enough I could kiss her without straining, and could clearly see her eyes from this distance.

Eyes that now sparkled with the desire I so deeply felt.

I stared at her for a moment longer and then saw the instant her decision was made.

I lifted her, her warm body a comfort in my arms, and then carried her up the stairs.

I didn’t pause at her door and instead took her to the room where I had been staying.

I hadn’t done anything with the place, and it probably looked much like she remembered.

But when I looked at her, I could tell she wasn’t paying attention to the decorations, because she was intently focused on me. I don’t know if she’d looked away the entire time I walked, but I settled her on the edge of the bed and began to work.

I ran my hand from her knee to her ankle, squeezing at her calf, and then I pulled the small heel she wore off her foot.

I did the same with the other shoe and then I slid my hand up her leg, over her full, soft thigh, and hooked my fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down.