Page 8 of Heart of a Villain

Laughing on the inside, he gripped Thanasis’ shoulder, squeezed, and said, “Have yourself a good night, brother,” before returning to the main bedroom.

Less than ten minutes later, the door opened.

Wren entered the room, her hair and body silhouetted in the hallway light. She’d changed into a long T-shirt with a rounded hem, and her braids hung loose down to the bend in her elbow.

She climbed into bed, and he turned onto his side, facing her. “Olà, gatinha.”

“Hi,” she whispered. “What does gatinha mean?”

“Little kitten.”

Like before, she trapped the inside of her bottom lip between her teeth and worked it a few times, studying his face. “That’s Portuguese, right?”

“Yes, it is. Do you speak any Portuguese?”

“Not a lick.”

“What about Greek?”

She rolled her eyes, a smile pulling at her cheek. “That…that’s not what you think it is. I said something about coming here instead of sleeping on a foldout at Larke’s, and Giorgio’s brother volunteered to walk with me. Dez was going to drive me if he didn’t.”

“This is a very safe property,” he pointed out. “A safe country.”

“A girl can never be too safe.”

“True.”

She cradled the side of his face, brushing his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb, and he could admit to himself that it was nice. In the years since he and Ayesha ended things, he’d tried to sleep with other women. He’d had to latch on to memories from his recent and distant past in order to latch on to their lips, kiss and suck the silky skin of their inner thighs, and tease their nipples between his teeth.

Yet, nothing had occurred.

Then, while Wren was gorgeous and his type in more ways than one, Ayesha was the only woman whose eyes he looked into and didn’t feel as if something was missing. Her eyes were the only ones that didn’t leave him feeling unfinished.

“Adrían, you are one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen in my life, and that accent…” Wren shivered. “I do not envy Ayesha, having to choose between you and fine as hell Joel Lattimore.”

“There wasn’t much choice,” he reminded her.

While he clung to the fact that Ayesha did “love” him to some extent, he knew it was nothing like what she felt for Joel. Ayesha loved Joel so much that he conceded. Pursuing her would have only resulted in either his or Joel’s deaths, and he wanted her happy more than he wanted her for himself. Also, Joel would find a way to make sure they died on the same day to avoid giving him twenty-four hours of unimpeded access to Mrs. Lattimore.

The problem was, he liked the guy.

He liked the entire team.

They were like real brothers with wonderful families and unnaturally gorgeous wives—as much legend as there was about Gano The Enforcer, the first time he found himself thinking that Mo was beautiful, he slit the thought’s throat.

Adrían Delgano was dangerous.

Giorgio Pozza was something else entirely.

All he had, and would ever have, were his memories and the photo he and Ayesha took together on her wedding day. To people who didn’t know them, it looked like they were the ones who’d gotten married. To him, it was the closest he’d get to something that would never come to pass, which would be enough to satisfy him until the next phase of his life. Unfortunately, that phase wouldn’t begin with the angel lying across from him, no matter how pretty he found her.

“I tried to catch you before you left the party,” Wren continued, moving her thumb to his top lip. “I mean, am I crazy? I’m not crazy, right?”

The touch managed to elicit a minor stir in his abdomen. “Crazy about what, gatinha?”

“Us. I mean, I feel like you were looking at me at the party…unless I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong.”