Page 60 of Broken Crown

He straightened and stared down at me, studying me, his eyes darkening to the color of a storm.

After a pause, he answered, "I have friends everywhere."

Each word was precise, measured.

From anyone else, that might have been considered an offhand answer, or slightly evasive at best.

From Sebastian, it sounded like a threat.

The kind that made my blood run both hot and cold at once.

He cocked his head to the side. "Why do you ask?"

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek.

Sliding under his arm, I crossed the room, needing distance from his overwhelming presence. My legs barely held; each step I took, my knees threatened to buckle. "No reason."

He turned and leaned against the bureau, crossing his arms over his chest, the movement pulling his sweater tight across his shoulders. "Was that your mother on the phone?"

I kept my head averted. It was my turn to be evasive. I thought about lying but then knew better.

Sebastian seemed to know what I was thinking before I even did.

I cleared my throat as I opened a drawer, looking for the silk scarf I wanted to wear that day, my fingers fumbling. "Um…yes, but it was a quick call."

"Have you told her you are in Italy yet?"

His casual tone and seemingly innocent inquiry didn't fool me. He knew damn well I hadn’t.

Inhaling deeply, I turned to face him. "Yes. Right after I told her all about how my father tried to kill me after I learned the rumor that he had murdered her. We had a super fun girl chat about it all."

The sarcasm dripped from my words.

His gaze traveled over my body then back to my face, so slowly and thoroughly my skin prickled in its wake as if he'd dragged his fingers along every inch. "You need to trust me on this, Sabrina."

I placed my hands on my hips, nails digging into my flesh. "On which part, Sebastian? The part where you won't tell me what is going on between you and my father? Or how much you know about what happened between him and my mother? Or the part where you obviously brought me to Italy under false pretenses?"

Warming up to my topic, I paced, the tension coiling tighter with each step. "Or how about why you decided to just announce that we were getting married without asking me first? And keep insisting that we are engaged when I've told you emphatically that nothing would convince me to marry you? No?"

I continued to pace, blood rushing in my ears. "How about we discuss why you won't let me get my own place, keeping me here like a prisoner? Or that shit show last night with your family." My chest heaved and I glared at him. "You tell me, Sebastian. What part am I supposed to blindly trust you on?"

He stormed across the room, closing the distance between us in three powerful strides.

The air crackled with tension as he grabbed me, his fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to leave marks.

Shifting his grip, he yanked me against his chest, the impact forcing the air from my lungs.

His hand shifted around the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair to tug my head back. His eyes burned into mine for one scorching moment before his head swooped down, claiming my mouth in a searing kiss.

I closed my hands into fists to try to fight him off, too worked up and angry to give in.

I pounded against his chest, each strike meeting unyielding muscle.

He easily captured my wrists and bent my arms behind my back, holding them in one large hand, the position arching my breasts against his body.

His other hand slid down to grip my hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he continued to press me against him. His tongue pushed past my lips, demanding entry, and despite my anger, I opened for him. He tasted of expensive coffee and pure male dominance as he deepened the kiss, claiming me completely.

When he finally pulled back, we were both breathless. The hard evidence of his desire pressed against my stomach.