"E tu, giovane?"(And you, young man?) he asked in rapid Italian. "Have you considered what we discussed yesterday?"
I glanced towards Evangeline, who was carefully not looking in our direction despite obviously listening. "It's complicated, Signore."
"Pah!" He waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing worth having is simple. My Angela, she was complicated too—daughter of my father's greatest rival. We eloped to Rome and didn't speak to our families for two years."
Despite myself, I found myself drawn into his story. "What happened?"
"Love conquered pride, as it always does when both hearts are brave enough." His weathered hand gripped my shoulder. "But you must act before another takes what you treasure. That Marco, he circles like a hawk."
As if summoned by his name, Marco appeared at Evangeline's side, offering to carry her medical kit, to drive her back to the main clinic, to show her a particularly beautiful vista on the way. Each offer made my jaw clench tighter.
"Perhaps," Signor Rossi continued, noting my expression, "you should remind the principessa who truly protects her."(princess)
The old man's meaning was clear, and despite every professional instinct, I agreed. Evangeline was under my protection—and if I was honest, she belonged with me in ways that went far beyond duty.
As the group began walking back towards the vehicles, I fell into step beside her. "There's an old barn about a kilometre from here," I whispered. "I want to inspect it—potential security concern."
Her steps faltered slightly. "A security concern?"
"The kind that requires your presence," I clarified, my voice dropping to a register that made her breath catch. "To ensure all threats are properly... neutralised."
Understanding dawned in her eyes, followed by a heat that nearly undid my careful control. "Of course. Security is paramount."
I guided her away from the group, informing Dr. Vitale that we would meet them back at the clinic. The barn I'd mentioned was real—an abandoned stone structure I'd noted during my initial security sweep of the area. But my motivation for taking her there had nothing to do with threats and everything to do with the need that had been building since our interrupted encounter the night before.
The barn sat in a grove of olive trees, hidden from the main road by rolling hills. Its thick stone walls had weathered centuries of Sicilian summers, the interior cool and dimly lit by shafts of sunlight streaming through gaps in the aged wooden roof.
"James," Evangeline said as soon as we were inside, her voice breathless with anticipation.
"What are we doing?"
Instead of answering, I backed her against the stone wall, my hands braced on either side of her head. The scent of hay and aged wood surrounded us, but all I could focus on was her—vanilla and jasmine and something uniquely her that made my blood burn.
"What we should have done last night," I growled, my mouth finding the sensitive spot below her ear. "What I've been thinking about all morning whilst watching Marcus put his hands on you."
She gasped as I nipped at her throat, her body arching against mine. "He… he was just being helpful?—"
"He was marking territory that isn't his," I interrupted, pulling back to look at her. "You belong to me, Evangeline. No one else, now say it."
Her eyes flashed with defiance even as desire darkened her pupils. "Make me."
The challenge in her voice severed the remaining cords of my restraint. In one motion, I lifted her, carrying her deeper into the barn where thick piles of hay created a makeshift bed. I set her down, then stepped back, drinking in the sight of her—rumpled white dress, flushed cheeks, lips parted with want.
"Strip," I commanded, my voice rough with need.
She raised an eyebrow at the order but complied slowly, teasingly, letting the sundress slide down her body with deliberate sensuality. She wore only a simple white bra and matching knickers underneath, the cotton innocent yet impossibly erotic in the barn's golden light.
"Fucking superb," I murmured, approaching her like a predator stalking prey. "But I want to hear you say it. Tell me you want this."
"James—" My name passed between her lips, coated with a delicious breathlessness.
My hands twisted in her hair. I silenced her with a kiss that was all heat and possession. I pulled away, leaving her breathing hard, her defiance wavering.
"Say it," I repeated against her lips.
She shook her head, stubborn even in surrender. " Hmmmm hearing you beg me to say those words — it’s poetry. Please continue."
The snarky, taunting response that slithered out of Evangeline’s mouth sent a surge of dark satisfaction through me. If she wanted to play this game, I was more than willing to emerge the victor.
