Page 18 of Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines 2)

“Why do you smell like a man?”

Emma struggled to come up with an appropriate excuse.Calisto had grabbed her and brought her close enough that his woodsy colognemust have lingered. She hadn’t thought anything about it.

“Calisto stopped me before I came upstairs,” Emma saidas her brain finally caught up with her mouth.

Affonso’s lips drew into a thin, grim line. “Oh?”

“He gave me a hug. Congratulated me on the pregnancy.I only changed into my chemise and jumped into bed. I didn’t—”

“Well, at least he congratulated you,” Affonsointerrupted.

Just like that, his hand released her and he fell backinto the bed. Emma’s heart climbed back down her throat and took its rightfulplace in her chest once more.

She had come to find that Affonso’s jealousies couldand would flare at the smallest, most insignificant things. Men couldn’t lookat her for long without Affonso questioning them. She couldn’t have malefriends at all. His blame and jealousy, when they did come out, were almostalways pinned on Emma.

It was disconcerting.

“He didn’t congratulate you?” Emma asked.

“I barely talked to him all night,” Affonso dismissed,waving his hand.

Emma stayed quiet as Affonso dug through his bedsidetable, finding the things he wanted. He rested back against the plush headboardwith a book in hand, his attention gone from Emma for the moment. Even still, adozen and one questions plowed around in her head, wanting answers.

“You’re chewing on something over there,” Affonsosaid, never looking away from his book. “Spit it out and get it over with.”

“Safe zone, right?”

Affonso nodded, saying nothing.

For as many things about Affonso that Emma didn’tlike, the man did have a few half-decent qualities. Their private space beingone. He never let her ask questions or talk about private things, except in thesafety of their master bedroom where they wouldn’t be overheard.

It was, quite literally, the marriage bed clause. Theone thing someone couldn’t use against Affonso were the things he told his wifein private.

“Why have Calisto as your right-hand if you twoclearly don’t get along?” Emma asked.

Affonso chuckled dully. “Oh, we get along. He simplydoesn’t like me. There’s a difference.”

He had a point.

“Huh.”

“And he’s good at what he does,” Affonso added,shrugging. “He spent the majority of his life under my feet, making sure I waspleased and doing my bidding. As a boy, nothing made him happier than when hecould make me happy. When he became an adult, it was second nature. I had alreadygroomed him for it.”

“What changed?”

Affonso’s flingers froze over the page he was reading.“He became older. His mother died. It was a rough year all around.”

Emma was pretty sure it was more than that. Affonsowasn’t giving her the whole story. He was leaving bits and pieces out. Whatparts were they?

“Maybe he’ll come back around. The baby and—”

Affonso laughed, cutting Emma off. “I doubt it,sweetheart. Calisto burned that bridge. Or I did. He has no intention ofrepairing it. I still think he would make a good boss, but because I want itfor him, he won’t do it.”

Emma had heard that same statement before, straightfrom Calisto’s own mouth. She wondered if he had told Affonso that, too.

“He does care for my children, however,” Affonso saidlike it was an afterthought.

Emma glanced down at her hands. “I noticed. He looksafter the girls. They’re very close to him.”