Page 16 of Alessio

She glanced up only to find he wasn’t looking at the book at all, but rather, at her. Gone was that angry, dark glint in his eyes from earlier, now replaced with only that curiosity she had seen.

How did the saying go?

Curiosity killed the cat.

“I don’t think I wonder why he found something in you,” Alessio murmured, “I wonder what it is.”

Ginevra swallowed hard, confused by this man. “I didn’t ask for—”

“That doesn’t change that it is—it’s a thing now.”

Yeah.

He wasn’t wrong.

Alessio tipped his head to the side, his grin deepening to something more sinful. It was enough to take her breath away, but that only left her perplexed. “Would you like to read the next one?”

Needing to break his stare, she peered down, and flipped the page without thinking. The black words printed on the white paper stared up at her, and as her gaze took the poem in, she felt her cheeks heat.

Damn.

She’d forgotten what the next one was.

He sounds

rough,

when he needs you.

There is

fire,

as he loves you.

He discovers

life,

as he fucks you.

Ginevra’s voice grew faint, but hot, as she spoke the last word. It was all of one stanza, and twenty-one words. But it felt purposeful, as though he’d known what the next poem in the book would be, and he wanted her to read it.

“Another favorite,” he murmured.

She desperately wanted to look at anything but him, and yet, her gaze lifted to see what he looked like right then. So, she might know if there was something to see there that he wasn’t saying.

Instead, she found him staring at her lips.

“Did you like that,” he asked, his tone roughening, “watching us from the end of the hallway that night? Did you know we shared women? Us together, I mean. It was fun—fair game. And then there was you, and he broke the fucking rules.”

“I—”

“Yes or no suffices, Ginevra. You either liked seeing us like that—together—and you want to see more, or you didn’t. Yes or no.”

Fine.

If that’s the game he wanted to play.