Vein of Love (Blackest Gold Book 1) by R. Scarlett Page B

once more. “Why?”
    He searched through his suitcase, forehead wrinkled in fury. “Why what? ” 
    “Why did you save him?”
    “Because I figured you wouldn’t be pleased if I brought you your father’s head.”
    She swallowed a whimper. “But—that man you killed, he deserved it?”
    “Would you rather him squeal about my little secret? ”
    She resisted her body’s urge to shiver and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Just leave my family alone. Don't involve them in this, okay? That’s all I ask.” He paused and gazed at her through his lashes, a look that flashed approval. Molly hid her shaking hands. “ Okay? ”
    Tensley scowled. “You’re bargaining for your family’s lives?”
    “Yes,” she said, breathless.
    His eyes narrowed. “Fine. You care about your family? Then you need to follow these rules.”
    What now? “Oh?”
    “One: Do not tell people who I am. To your low-bred kind, I’m your fiancé. If they find out, I’ll either have to break their bones until they agree to stay quiet, or finish them off.” Her chest tightened. He raised his finger, firmly shaking it at her. “Two: If I tell you to do something—be it to stay away from my fucking stuff, to listen to my orders, or whatever else I can think of—you’ll do it without a damn word otherwise.” He advanced, eyes sharp and tone bitter. “Three: Nothing romantic or sweet will ever happen between us. No cuddling, no sweet declarations of nonsense.” Molly’s breath stuttered in her lungs as she crawled away from him and farther up the bed. “And lastly, I don’t kiss on the lips.” He leaned down, a smirk tugging at his soft mouth. “But I do kiss everywhere else.”
    Molly slammed into the headboard. What the hell is wrong with him? “Ow! Geez…” She rubbed the knot already forming at the base of her skull with her free hand.
    “Careful. Don’t hurt yourself over me, gattina .” His eyes gleamed, victorious.
    Her body tensed at his voice, and if she was bleeding from clenching the knife beneath her pillow, she couldn’t feel it. “ Gattina? ”
    His smile deepened…dark and sexual. “Italian for kitten…tiny, small, inconsequential.”
    He’s taunting me. She rolled away from him and onto her feet on the other side of the bed, unbalanced.
    He gave her a flat look, eyes taking a moment to register the butcher knife clenched in her white fist. “You want to fight me?” He chortled deep in his throat. “Sweetheart, you don’t want to fight me.”
    Be brave. Her hands didn’t get the message though, continuing to shake uncontrollably. She convinced herself it was her rage.
    “I bet you don’t even know how to use one of those,” he said, gesturing leisurely with his hand to the knife. “First, you have to move it—well, first you have to have muscle to move it fast enough, which, from my examination of your body earlier, you lack. Immensely. Second—”
    “I can move it!” she hollered, slicing the blade up and down. He was getting under her skin, and his satisfied expression told her he knew it.
    He clapped mockingly. “Bravo. Well, I’m thrilled we solved that dilemma. Now let’s solve another.” He took one large stride and she panicked.
    “Don’t come any closer.” She pointed the knife at him, and he slowed. “I swear, I’ll do it.”
    His eyes flickered over her trembling stance, and he stifled a laugh as his thumb traced his bottom lip. He had a mouth meant for speaking sweet nothings, and he misused it terribly. “You’re shaking, ciccia .”
    She scanned his toned stomach, the dark happy trail leading to the band of his slacks, which sat dangerously low, revealing the sharp V of his pelvic bone. Any lower— Stop it. When her eyes aligned with his again, a dark humor permeated his grey irises. “I’ll stab you. I’m not afraid of you.”
    “I’d say you have nothing to fear.” He tilted his head to the side. “But that’d be a lie.” He was in front of her in a blur and