Page 40 of Isle of Seduction
We’re trying as well. Give him time. He lost his husband.
“Who are you texting?”
I jump out of my skin and drop the phone, almost dropping the towel. My husband is casually sitting on my bed, taking me in from ankles to messy bun and I heat up under the weight of his luscious stare.
I ignore his question, not ready to share more of me than necessary.
“Lana, not that it’s any of your fucking business.”
He doesn’t answer but continues to twirl a strange white card in between his hands.
“What’s this?” I flip my hand to his.
“You tell me.”
I frown. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not in the mood to entertain your bullshit, tonight, Capaldi.”
He hands me the card and I read it.
My Giulia. Heed my warning.
My eyes widen. It’s the same white paper of the two previous cards I received before. A chill slowly climbs up my spine, and I gulp before raising my gaze to Andrea. His is already fixed on me.
“Where did you get this?” I ask, ants crawling all over my body.
“It was attached to a bouquet of wildflowers delivered to my office today. Who are they from, Giulia?”
It’s the first time my name doesn’t sound like a prayer but a threat.
“It’s not the first one.”
He drops his elbows to his knees, interlacing his fingers together as if not to pummel into a wall, and takes a deep breath. Somehow, that’s more intimidating than when he threatens or towers over me in an effort to make me cower. The show of restraint is terrifying.
“Tell me what you’re hiding, guerrieritta.”
Just like that, heat travels back into my veins.
“I’m not hiding anything, O baullo. Now please leave so I can sleep.”
Andrea stands and prowls to me. His hand comes up to twist a curl of hair around his finger and I’m assaulted by an image of him taking my whole hair into his fist for a very different reason. If I closed my eyes, I’d probably feel his skin on mine. But I don’t. My eyes stay fixed on his, burning with something I can’t quite place.
“I don’t joke around with your safety, guerrieritta. Now tell me about the cards. Who is calling you ‘my Giulia’?”
An order.
One I want to obey. I don’t question myself when the words leave my lips unbidden. He’s so close to me his scent invades my senses and probably fucks with my nervous system. Yes, surely that’s it.
“The first card was in the lingerie bag when I came from shopping that first day. I checked the shop’s camera and disregarded it as a welcome from the shop assistant. Then I received another a couple of days after our first dinner out. Nico ripped it to pieces and threw it away. I didn’t think about it. I didn’t think it was important. This is the first time it feels so… personal.”
We look down at the card at the same time.
Andrea raises my chin with a finger. His eyes burn bright like liquid fire and keep oscillating between my own and my lips. He imperceptibly moves down, but before our mouths can crash in a beautiful catastrophe, I stop him with a hand on his heart. It’s beating wildly against my palm. Despite the fabric between my fingers and his chest, the heat of his body travels from my fingers up my arm and all the way down to my toes.
What he sees in my gaze makes him frown and he straightens up again.
“You’re not anyone else’s. You’re mine, Giulia Capaldi. And whoever sent this will know it too soon enough.”
He leaves the room without a second glance and I plop face down on my mattress, ready to yell into the pillows. Of frustration because he did not kiss me, or because he wanted to, I’m not sure.