Carmine’s sneering look as he passes by me has ice replacing the blood flowing in my veins. If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under by now. Wow. Perhaps he and Isotta are a perfect match after all.
“Fuck.”
My head whips up, and my gaze collides with Cristian’s.
“How much of that did you hear?”
“You threatening him if he even breathed near me,” I choke out.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” His brow creases as he studies my face.
“I was heading to the bathroom, and I didn’t know what to do when I came across you,” I truthfully admit.
“I’m sorry you witnessed that.” He visibly cringes. “It shouldn’t have been necessary, but I’ve seen the way he’s been watching you, and I don’t like it. I told you I’d protect you today, and I meant it.”
“I’m not angry, Cristian,” I say, pushing off the wall.
“Are you scared?”
I know why he’s asking. I shake my head. “I’m not angry or scared, Cristian. I’m grateful. I don’t like how he’s been looking at me either. It’s made me very uncomfortable. Isa already hates my guts, and this will only make it worse.” What I can’t say is how his words actually comfort me. Should I tell him the truth? Should I ask him for help?
“I’ve spoken with Isa. She won’t give you any trouble today.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. Seems she’s set her sights on someone else.”
Cristian splutters, and his eyes pop wide. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. She’s had a little too much to drink, that’s all.”
“You’re a smart man, Cristian. Please tell me you don’t really believe that. Everyone in that room saw her and knows she wants you.”
“It doesn’t matter if she does.” Taking my arm, he moves me around the corner as two guests approach. He nods at the couple as they pass by before fixing his gaze on me. “I’m not interested in her.”
I pull up my big-girl panties and say what’s on my mind. “Then you won’t mind dancing with me.”
“It’s probably not wise.”
“It’s a party, Cristian. You can dance with the nanny, and no one will think anything of it.” That’s probably not true, but I’m not leaving here without a dance. If the bride gets one, then so do I. Feeling brave, I place my hand on his impressive chest. “I just need to use the bathroom. Wait for me?”
His callused palm cups my cheek, and heat seeps into my skin as I arch into his touch. Fiery tingles race across my face, and I want to fling my arms around him and never let go. He looked so hot today in his suit, but he looks even more gorgeous now he’s ditched the dress jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. I’m addicted to his arms and fascinated with the ink covering his smooth, muscular, tanned skin. I want to lick them all over and trace the veins with my tongue.
“Sloane.”
His breathy tone drags my gaze back up to his amused face. “What?” I rasp.
“I’ll wait here for you.”
“Okay.” I feel like crying when his hand pulls away from my face, but I hold it together and walk on autopilot to the bathroom.
I attend to business and quickly touch up my makeup before I rejoin him outside.
Tension bleeds into the air between us as we walk silently side by side down the corridor and back into the ballroom. Cristian procures a chilled bottle of wine and checks in with his mother to ensure Elio is okay. “He’s perfectly fine. Having the time of his life with his cousins.” Snatching the bottle from her son’s hand, she shoos us with a flap of her hands. “Go dance, enjoy yourselves.”
Cristian looks torn as he threads his fingers in mine and leads me toward the dance floor, and I can guess why. It might be my imagination, but I think he’s already fighting a losing battle with his conscience.
The band is playing a fast number when we reach the packed dance floor, and we find a space off to the left and start shimmying. Damn, Cristian has moves, and any awkwardness is quickly forgotten as we both give it our all. It’s not long before we’re smiling, laughing, and flirting, and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself. Cristian lets go of his reservations, twirling me around the floor, reeling me into his chest, dipping me down low, and syncing his moves to mine. We draw closer with each new song, and by the time the band slows it down, we’re already in one another’s arms.
“Sloane, Sloane,” he says, banding his arms tightly around my waist and holding me flush against his strong body as we sway in tune to the music. His brow presses to mine, and then his eyes close. “What are you doing to me?” he whispers over my mouth as I feel his hard length brush against me.
“The same thing you’re doing to me,” I earnestly reply.
His eyes open and pierce mine. “I’m trying to stay away from you,” he admits as his hand moves higher, finding the bare skin of my back. His touch lights a fire inside me, and I shiver in his arms. “But it’s so fucking hard.”
I want to tell him to stop denying what we both obviously want, but laying it all on the line didn’t work out great for me last time, so I trap the words. It has to be him. Cristian needs to be the one to tear down the boundaries he’s erected. “You know how I feel,” I softly say.
“I feel it too.” He subtly rotates his hips, ensuring I feel his erection. “Fuck. I’m going to hell.”
“Then I’m right there wi—”
“In case either of you is even remotely concerned with Elio, the show is over, and the babysitters are leaving,” Isa hisses, putting herself all up in our faces.
We separate instantly, and Cristian rearranges his face into a calmly polite expression that’s more familiar. “Thank you for telling me. We’ll go get him.” His arm slides around my back, and he steers me around the seething bride.
All the previous intimacy is gone from his tone and his expression, and whatever moment we were having has been effectively ruined thanks to the bride. I’m positive that was her intention anyway.
“Daddy!” Elio charges toward us. “The magician made his hat disappear!” His green eyes pop wide. “Like puff, it just went away.”
“Wow, that sounds amazing.” Cristian bends down, ruffling his son’s hair.
“He made balloon animals too. I got a lion. Grandma has it.” Elio takes each of our hands. “I wanna dance.”
“We can stay for a few dances, but we’ll be going home then. Okay?”
“Deal.” Elio is already dragging us toward the dance floor before the word has left his mouth.
We dance for a few songs, earning plenty of stares from other wedding guests, but Cristian ignores their nosiness, and I follow his lead.
“Lift me up, Daddy.” Elio raises his arms, and Cristian scoops him up. Elio wraps his legs around his dad and reaches out a hand for me. “Come on, Slowpoke Sloane.” We dance as a unit, and my heart is so full it feels like it could burst. Cristian has his arm around me while he carries his son, and there’s no hiding the emotion shining in his eyes.
I want this.
I want this so badly.
My heart is splintering as reminders of my hideous reality crack through my happy shell.
I’m yanked forcibly away from Cristian as the bride interrupts for the second time tonight. “You are making a scene,” Isa says, glowering at me as she reaches for Elio. “People are talking.”
“Let them,” Cristian coolly replies, keeping a firm hold of his son. “It’s time we were going home anyway.”
She backtracks immediately, panic replacing the previous pissed-off look on her face. “You don’t need to go yet. It’s only a little past nine thirty.”
“It’s way past Elio’s bedtime, as you know, and he’s exhausted,” Cristian replies. He leans in and plants a quick kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for inviting us. I hope you and Carmine have a wonderful honeymoon.”
Isa glares at me like I’m the devil incarnate, and I’m so sick of her obvious jealousy.
“Say goodbye to Auntie Isa,” Cristian says, nudging Elio, who now has his head resting on his dad’s shoulder. Sleep seems to have crept up on him fast.
“Bye, Auntie Isa. See you after your moonhoney.”
Cristian and I share a smile that only seems to anger Isa more, but she hides it well as she smiles at Elio and kisses the top of his head. “I’ll miss you, champ.”
“Same,” he says over a yawn.
“Enjoy the rest of your wedding, Isa,” Cristian repeats before artfully steering me away and off the dance floor. “I’ll just tell my parents we’re leaving.” He removes his hand from my back. “They’ll probably want to come with.”
“Of course.”
We head to his parents’ table in silence, Isa having ruined the moment again. “We’re heading home,” Cristian says.
“Good,” his father says, standing. “It’s time we left too. It’s way past this old man’s bedtime.” He winks at me, and I can’t help giggling. I’m betting he was a real charmer when he was young.
“I think you might have a message.” Beatrice hands me my purse. “It made a little vibrating noise a few minutes ago.”
My heart launches into my throat as I clutch my purse to my chest. Oh my fucking god. I can’t believe I was so careless. I debated whether to bring my cartel cell with me today, but Mom and I were both punished the last time I left it behind, and as we were attending a very public wedding, where his goons would be following me, I didn’t see how it was overly risky bringing it. I was so sure I’d put it fully on silent, but I must have fucked up.
“What’s wrong?” Josef asks, his face instantly awash with concern.
“You are really pale,” Beatrice adds.
“I just felt a wave of nausea.” I place a hand on my stomach. “Maybe it was something I ate or too much wine.”
“You didn’t drink too much,” his mother says. “Perhaps something you ate didn’t agree with you.”
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I can meet you outside.”
“We’ll wait for you in the lobby,” Josef says. “It’s best we all stick together.”
I flee to the bathroom with beads of sweat dotting my brow.
Once inside the stall, I sit on top of the closed toilet seat and rest my head in my hands, taking measured breaths in an attempt to calm down. I’m an idiot, and my idiocy is going to give the game away or get my mother killed. My fingers tremble as I remove my cell and open the message Pablo sent.
All the blood drains from my face when the photo loads. It was taken recently. Cristian and I are on the dance floor, holding one another tight, our brows pressed together, and our mouths scant inches apart.
Fucking hell.
Pablo’s mole must be here.
My heart rate skyrockets as the organ thumps frantically against my rib cage. Sheer panic charges through my veins as I struggle to breathe.
A new message arrives, and I almost throw up all over my expensive dress when I read it.
Good girl. Now take him home and fuck him.
