Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
The French doors were open.
Marcello stood between them, looking so powerful in his suit. I moved beside him as the water crash against the rocks. His hands slid to his waist, pushing his jacket to the side. Another reminder he carried not one but two guns, just like his older brother. For a businessman, you had to wonder why Luca needed to carry weapons at all times.
“Get in bed,” Marcello ordered.
“Then get out. I need privacy.”
He laughed, shaking his head with a mocking expression on his face. “And risk you running away? Not a chance.”
I glared at him with so much hatred my skin burned. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can try,” he taunted. “But you won’t make it out of this town alive.”
“Are you threatening me?”
He shrugged, unaffected by my question. “The last person who tried to escape ended up floating at the top of the bay.”
Was it my brother?
He grabbed my shoulder and steered me into the room. “It’s time for bed, princess.”
Marcello closed the doors and pulled the drapes over the windows. He loosened his tie as he approached the bed, tugging on the silky blue fabric. Was it sick that I wanted to watch this delicious man strip? I guess I liked alpha assholes a little too much, which made the Salvatore brothers my biggest weakness.
I dropped to the floor in front of my suitcase and pulled on the zipper. “You’re not getting in bed with me.”
He rolled his eyes and snorted. “A few hours ago, you were ready to spread your legs for me. Don’t give me this holier than thou act.”
“This house has enough beds,” I shouted as I tossed art supplies from my bag in search of pajamas. “You don’t need to sleep in mine.”
“I haven’t slept in over thirty hours. I’m not in the mood to argue over something that doesn’t matter.”
“Whatever,” I huffed.
Marcello removed his dress shoes as I dug through my clothes, organizing the black wingtips at the foot of the bed. He stripped off his tie and laid it on the bench. So meticulous, perfect, like his older brother in almost every way. I couldn’t help but laugh as Marcello shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over the desk chair before he unbuttoned his shirt.
Control-freak.
He noticed me looking, so I snapped my attention back to my clothes. Of course, I forgot pajamas. Maybe I should have listened to Marcello and packed something useful. I kicked off my ballet flats and pulled my leggings down my thighs.
“What are you doing?”
Marcello’s tone was cold and frightening.
“I’m getting changed.”
He pointed his finger at my leggings. “Keep those on.”
“How about no, drill sergeant?”
I shoved the pants down to my ankles, not giving a single fuck. Mr. Bossy had already seen my underwear.
Marcello fumbled with the zipper of his pants. “You want to see how hard I push my men? You wouldn’t last five minutes under the command of a real drill sergeant.”
Marcello handled security for Salvatore Global. And now, I was thinking about him in a uniform and almost drooled on myself. Jesus. I would drop and give him twenty any day.
“So this is your nice side?” I tossed my hair back and chuckled. “How sweet of you to show it to me. I’m honored.”
“You’re lucky I’m tired, woman.”
He laid his pants on the chair back, standing a few feet away from me in all of his glory. His legs were long and toned, and beneath his boxer briefs was a serious bulge. Fuck me. The Salvatore brothers clearly had more than good looks in common.
I pointed my finger at his shirt. “Are you sleeping in that?”
Marcello dimmed the lights, still wearing his white oxford. “Worry about yourself.”
I lifted my tank top over my head, and he shook his head, annoyed with my defiance. Though, I didn’t miss him checking me out. Stripped down to my underwear, he stared at me like he wanted to tackle me to the floor and fuck me senseless. I was kind of hoping he would. If he was anything like Luca in bed, I was in for one wild ride.
“I forgot to pack pajamas,” I told him. “Guess I’m sleeping naked. Hope you don’t mind, drill sergeant.”
I was joking, but Mr. Personality didn’t know that. Marcello stormed across the room, and I laughed at the serious expression on his face. The smile slipped from my lips when he lifted me into his muscular arms. They were thick and firm like a professional athlete, so much muscle I needed two hands to grip his bicep.
He threw me over his shoulder as if I were a laundry sack and stalked over to the bed. I smacked his muscled back, yelling for him to release me.
Marcello lowered me to the mattress and pulled the covers up to my chin. “Don’t move.”