And yet...her hand was shaking and she didn’t understand why he should be so concerned with her soul when she herself didn’t care about what happened to her after this was over.
‘My soul is none of your business.’ She tried to keep her voice firm and sure.
‘If you’re preparing to risk it to kill me, then it most certainly is my business.’ His dark gaze held hers and there was no fear in it at all, only an honesty that wound around her heart and didn’t let go. ‘I’m not worth it, believe me.’
How curious. He made it sound as if her soul was actually worth something.
She should have shot him right then and there, but instead she found her hand lowering, exactly as he’d told her to.
He didn’t glance at the gun, his dark eyes steady on her instead.
The weapon was heavy in her hand and she didn’t understand why she hadn’t pulled that trigger when she’d had the chance. Because now that chance had gone. The moment when she could have fired was lost.
You failed.
Shame rushed through her like the tide. How had he done it? How had he got under her guard? And, more importantly, why had she let him?
She’d worked hard ever since Matteo’s death to excise all the soft, weak emotions inside her, the ones her parents had despised, and there shouldn’t have been any room at all for mercy. But it seemed as if there was some small part of her that was still weak. Still flawed.
Anger glowed in her gut, hot and bright, overwhelming the shame, and before she realised what she was doing she’d put the gun on the bedside table and was bending down over him, putting one hand on the pillow on either side of his head. His hair was inky black on the pillows, his eyes almost the same colour as they stared challengingly back at her.
He smelled so good, the heat rising off him making her want to get close, to warm herself against him.
‘What is it, kitten?’ Dante murmured, staring straight up at her, gold glinting deep in the darkness of his gaze. ‘Is it time to show me your claws?’
Again, there wasn’t an ounce of fear or doubt in him, just as there hadn’t been right from the start. He’d seen through her. He’d seen through her completely.
Her anger flared hotter, a bonfire of rage. How dared he find that weakness inside her? How dared he exploit it? And what was wrong with her that she had allowed him to do it?
Her perfectly executed plan was now in ruins and all because she hadn’t had the guts to do what needed to be done.
Because, somehow, she’d let this man undermine her.
Well, if he wanted to see her claws, then she’d show them to him. And she knew exactly what to do to in order to cause maximum damage.
Her experience with men was non-existent, but she’d studied Dante Cardinali and she’d studied him well. Including what she could find on his sexual predilections. He was a man who liked being in control and who always, always, got what he wanted.
And it was clear that he wanted her.
Which gave her the perfect leverage over him.
‘Not my claws,’ Stella murmured, staring right back into his eyes. ‘You can feel my teeth instead.’
Then she lowered her head and bit him.
THE LOVELY WOMAN who was probably Stella Montefiore, but definitely wasn’t Carlotta, closed her teeth delicately around Dante’s lower lip and every nerve-ending he had lit up with sweet, delicious pain.
He was hard instantly, his whole body tight, his wrists and ankles instinctively pulling against the cuffs with the urge to grab her, hold her.
He hadn’t been expecting this particular move, though really the glittering flare of anger he’d seen in her eyes just before she’d bent her head should have warned him.
She wasn’t as cool as she seemed, which was a delightful surprise.
In fact, the whole of her bending over him with that rich heady scent, her silky golden hair falling over one shoulder, her pale skin glowing against the fluid fabric of her blue dress, was a delightful surprise.
He’d been hoping for some fight and he’d certainly got it.
If only his hands were free.
Instead, he opened his mouth and touched his tongue to the softness of lower lip, a gentle coax.
She went still, her teeth releasing him, her lips a breath away from his.
So he bit her back, but not hard. A light nip to see what she’d do.
Her head jerked back and she looked down at him, her blue eyes glowing with anger, her cheeks pink. ‘Damn you,’ she whispered.
‘Why?’ His own voice had roughened. ‘Because I stopped you from doing what you didn’t want to do anyway? Because you’re not a killer?’
She didn’t reply, merely bent her head again, and this time her mouth was on his in a hard, furious kiss.
That she was inexperienced was immediately obvious, but she also tasted of anger and of passion, and his interest, already piqued, deepened even further.
He’d had inexperienced before, though he tended to steer clear of women who didn’t know what they were dealing with when it came to him. He’d had plenty of anger before too, not to mention passion. But not all three at once, and not when the woman dealing them out had been on the point of shooting him in the head.
It made him even harder than he was already.
Still, that inexperience was a warning sign that this woman, no matter how cool and strong she seemed, no matter that she’d had him at gunpoint, had her vulnerabilities. And it was interesting that the mention of her soul had been the thing that had made her lower the gun.
But what had been even more interesting to him was the definite shame that had flared in her eyes after she’d put the gun down, only to be swiftly overtaken by rage. She hadn’t liked failing her mission, that was for sure. And yet, instead of shooting him anyway, she’d kissed him.
Yes, that was very, very interesting.
Not only was she a woman with vulnerabilities, she also seemed to be a woman of strong passions. Which made for an intoxicating combination.
‘Kitten,’ he murmured against her mouth. ‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’
In response she bit him again, harder this time, the tips of her breasts brushing against his chest as she leaned in closer. Holy God, her nipples were tight and hard. He could feel them through the cotton of his shirt.
Lust uncurled in his gut, thick and hot, making him catch his breath.
It had been a long time since a woman had made him feel like this, he had to admit. And he wasn’t a man who denied himself anything he wanted. Self-control was all very well in certain situations, but when it came to sex he would freely admit to being a glutton.
Then again, she’d had the gall to drug him then tie him to a bed, so why should he give her everything she wanted right now?
He moved his head on the pillow, pulling his mouth away from her. ‘Sweetheart, if you want that, you’re going to have to ask for it.’
She made an angry sound and tried to kiss him again but he closed his mouth against hers.
The breath went out of her and she lifted her head.