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“Should’ve thought of that when you betrayed me.”
I thought we went over this. “I never betrayed you. Until you showed up at my wedding, I didn’t know you existed.”
“Mierde,” he curses in French and starts tattooing near my collarbone.
“You didn’t numb it,” I say.
“You’ll like it better if I don’t.” The pricking of the needle reverberates over my collarbone, and he’s right. I like this strange pain that arouses me.
“Go ahead and ask what you’re wondering about. Your head seems preoccupied.” His face is close to mine, his voice low, intimate, a deep tenor one might describe as his bedroom voice.
Unwilling to tell him how much his tattooing me turns me on when it should repulse me because I don’t like him and he’s ruining my life, I swallow. “I’ll keep my musings to myself, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind.”
“That’s too bad, because I won’t tell you,” I say playfully, peacefully, so he doesn’t get offended and shoot me.
Blue eyes glance up, then fall back to what he’s doing. Now partially dry, his hair falls over his forehead, and my fingers itch to move the strands.
“Is there anything else you want to tell me about Gio’s departure tonight?” he asks, clearly wanting to talk only about Order business.
“I don’t know anything else.”
“Is your mother leaving with him?”
I frown. “No. Of course not. Why would she be leaving with him?” Weird.
“No reason.” Severio leans in closer and closer, his eyes focused, lips slightly pursed. I wonder what it’s like to kiss those lips. Are they soft?
“Is what soft?” he asks.
Horror. I said what I was thinking out loud. “Nothing. Have you decided what to do about Gio leaving?”
“I won’t let him leave.”
“Right, but what will you do?”
“I’m deciding on that now and would appreciate some quiet time while I mark you and think.”
“Marking sounds like you’re urinating on a tree.”
The buzzing stops, and Severio looks up. “Really, Cristina?”
Embarrassed, I clear my throat. “Sorry. Please continue.”
“Thank you,” he says mockingly and resumes the work until he’s finished. He patches me up and instructs me on how to care for it. He slips off the gloves and checks his watch.
“What time is it?” I ask
“Three thirty. Are you tired?”
I cover my yawn.
“There’s my answer,” he says. “Before I decide what I’ll do about your tip on Gio, I want to know if you understand that Order business is personal business for me. That leading the Serpentine Order is all I’ve ever known, and taking it from me will only happen once I’m dead.”
“I understand.”
“Good. Then you also understand you committed treason.”
