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Montrell wanted to flip the goddamn table. His fists shook beneath it as he tried to breathe through his fury.
A grimace lined her face. “My body can be a whore sometimes, even if I don’t want it to be.” Her eyes closed. “Especially if it thinks it’s the end.”
His mouth went dry. He forced himself to swallow, to ask the question he dreaded the answer to. “That’s how it felt for you last night?” He should cut off his own fucking cock. Or hell, his hand.
Beatrice hesitated, taking ten years off his life. “A little. But it was also different.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I was ready for that.”
He forced himself to nod. “That’s fair.” It still ripped his guts out, but he’d wanted the truth.
He was a fucking bastard. If she came to his room, he would be again.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked, wondering if he was worrying about nothing. No way would she come to him again.
Beatrice moved her head in a mirthless tilt. “You’re making this a habit. Apologizing to me.”
He winced.
“My husband has done a lot worse. Compared to him, you’re not so bad.”
“No, Bea.” Montrell couldn’t let himself off the hook that easily, and he didn’t want her to either. “You were very clear on what you wanted last night, and I didn’t respect that.”
“I was trying to force you, not the other way around.” She tightened her arms. “I’m still not sure how I feel about what happened, but I didn’t completely hate it. I mean…” Her neck turned pink, and some of his tension eased. Her eyes finally shifted back to meet his. “I forgot how you like to talk during, well, what we did. I kind of… liked that.”
He couldn’t prevent a smug little grin from forming. “I’m sexy as hell, don’t lie.”
She let out a startled laugh. It was almost a giggle, and he realized he’d missed hearing it. She used to laugh a lot.
“So I want to be straight with you,” he said, his hands loosening beneath the table.
She turned fully. Good, she wasn’t going to run.
“The reason you came to my room last night. I can’t be that for you.” He grimaced. “You come to my room? It’s going to be orgasms on the menu. Otherwise, you stay away.”
Her eyes widened. They could look so innocent at times. It was a deadly combination, with her sexy-as-hell slit dress and killer makeup and bombshell good looks.
“You hear me?” he asked, needing to make sure she understood.
Beatrice slowly nodded but then bit into those made-up lips of hers. He thought it was some kind of magic, how they didn’t smudge. It made him want to kiss her and see if he could do better.
“It might not always work,” she warned.
He didn’t argue with her. She’d find out how determined he was in time. “Let me worry about that.” He stood up, careful not to move forward and crowd her. “Now, are you coming with us to the Di Salvos?”
She hesitated, her face slipping back into its mask. “I’d like to,” she decided. “I enjoy the business side of the life.”
He’d noticed. It was also sexy as hell, but he knew better than to tell her. He waved toward the closed door instead, letting her go first. If she looked back, he just hoped his partial erection didn’t send her running.
Chapter 14
Nera Di Salvo was a difficult person not to like despite Beatrice’s determination not to. She looked soft and sweet, but there was some steel under her words. Even Vespa treated her respectfully, and Montrell’s apparently platonic friend wasn’t nice to anyone besides Montrell.
The Di Salvos were as odd as the Coronellas, given the way they encouraged their women’s involvement in family matters. Beatrice had always wanted her own father to include her, but she’d had to manipulate him to learn anything.
That wasn’t true any longer.
The meeting was just between the two families. Montrell was more guarded around the Di Salvos, at least guarded for him. He really did say what he was thinking most of the time, Beatrice realized, especially around the soldiers at home.
At the Coronella estate, she corrected herself. She doubted she’d ever have a home, even if Montrell forced his family members to act welcoming to her.
