Sarah Morgan - Bought - Destitute yet Defiant

So it was the same for him, she thought with a bitter smile. He did have a weakness after all—the same one all men had.

Turning that to her advantage, Jessie slid her hand down his powerful body and covered him with the flat of her hand.

His shock was only marginally greater than hers, and she heard the breath hiss through his teeth a fraction of a second before he slackened his hold. It was all she needed. Her fist landed against the side of his face and she was running again.

She took fewer than three steps before the arms closed over her again and he hauled her back like a rag doll.

‘ Maledezione , don’t ever pull a stunt like that again!’ The cold, furious voice penetrated her terror and Jessie felt a flicker of fear far, far deeper than anything she’d experienced before because she finally recognised who it was who held her.

Stunned, she stared into the face she’d just punched. ‘Silvio—?’

‘ Stai zitto! Be quiet! Don’t say a word,’ he commanded, his fingers tightening on her wrists as the men finally caught up with them.

Jessie’s mind went blank with shock.

Silvio Brianza.

Images exploded in her head. Images of the last time she’d seen him. Images she’d banished from her brain.

‘Hey—thanks for catching her.’ This was a different man from the one she’d injured with her shoe and Jessie wondered numbly whether his friend was still lying in the alley, clutching himself.

She didn’t even care.

She was no longer worried about them.

The air was suddenly choked with an entirely different sort of tension and her emotions were focused on the man whose powerful body was pressed against every contour of hers.

Jessie tested his hold but it was like being held in a vice and her attempt to free herself drew a hiss of anger from him. She wished it had been anyone but Silvio who had come to her rescue.

‘Let me go. I don’t want your help.’

‘Of course you don’t—you’re doing fine by yourself.’ His scathing tone brought the colour rushing to her cheeks and Jessie felt a flash of humiliation that he should find her in this state.

‘I can handle it,’ she muttered, but she knew there was no chance he was going to let her go. Silvio Brianza was too much a man to let a woman fight for him.

Thinking about him as a man was a mistake and the colour bloomed in her cheeks as she remembered how he’d felt against her hand.

Grateful for the darkness, Jessie gave a hysterical laugh.

She was about to be killed and she was thinking about sex again. Only this man could have that effect on her. He’d always made her think things she wasn’t supposed to be thinking.

‘You’re going to be killed, Silvio.’

‘I thought that was what you wanted.’

His reference to the last time they’d met made her shiver.

How many lonely nights had she spent planning his fate when the rest of the world had been sleeping? A thousand ways to kill Silvio Brianza .

Was that what she wanted? She couldn’t think straight with the dangerous thrill of awareness gripping her shivering body.

All she knew was that the terrible fear had gone. Locked against his muscular frame, she felt safe. Which was ridiculous. She’d never been less safe in her life.

‘Back off. She’s ours.’ The rough voice was thick with menace. ‘You can hand her over and get back in your fancy car. We’ve got no quarrel with you.’

Fancy car?

Jessie turned her head, saw the low, sleek Ferrari parked at the end of the seedy alleyway. It was like a portal to another life. A reminder of how far Silvio had come.

He’d left all this behind. This wasn’t his world any more.

So what was he doing here?

Why had he picked tonight to step back into his past?

The man she’d stabbed with her shoe finally joined the rest of his friends, his eyes burning with anger and resentment as he focused on Jessie.

She looked into those dull, drug glazed eyes and saw her own death.

Her thoughts were oddly detached as she prepared herself for the end. With Silvio by her side, there would be a fight, she knew that. But it was a fight they couldn’t possibly win.

Would the end be quick?

Would it be a knife? A gun?

Suddenly she realised that she didn’t want Silvio to die. Not for her.

She drew breath to speak but before she could utter a sound Silvio brought his mouth down on hers in a brief, scorching kiss.

Jessie was too shocked to protest, or perhaps her lack of resistance had something to do with the fact that her thoughts had skimmed perilously close to this exact scenario in the last few moments. Her lips parted beneath the pressure of his, hot, liquid pleasure diluting the fear. Far from resisting, she kissed him back passionately, her desperation as powerful as his, her demands every bit as urgent.

For most of her adolescence she’d fantasised about this. Even after that terrible night, when her world had darkened and her attitude towards him had irrevocably altered, perversely she’d still thought about it.

But of all the dreams she’d had, none of them had come close to the reality.

His mouth drove every thought from her head except one…

That if she had to choose a moment to die, this would be it.

Through a haze of desire she heard a snigger from the watching men. ‘Now, that’s just greedy,’ one of them complained.

Her head still spinning from the kiss, Jessie didn’t even realise Silvio had released her until he stepped forward out of the shadows. There was an air of menace attached to that simple, understated movement and she shivered as she watched, frightened and fascinated at the same time. He didn’t speak or bluster—instead, he was terrifyingly cold, his spectacularly handsome face displaying not a single flicker of emotion as he confronted the men. And that, Jessie thought numbly, said everything there was to be said about Silvio Brianza. A lone warrior.

Her legs were threatening to give way, although whether it was from desire or fear she was no longer sure. All she knew was that she wanted to shout a warning. She wanted to warn him not to die for her, but her lips had been paralysed by the touch of his mouth and she couldn’t think of anything except how it had felt to be kissed by him.

And then she realised that this scenario wasn’t playing out the way she’d anticipated. Instead of attacking Silvio, the group was falling back. They’d lost the fierce bravado of a pack intent on a kill and instead they were just staring at him.

Water dripped from the gutter down the back of her neck and Jessie shivered as she tried to work out what was happening.

Why would six men retreat from one?

Confused, she glanced at Silvio and realised that he was standing in the faint shaft of light created by the final flickers of an exposed bulb presumably intended to provide light to the dank corners of the filthy alleyway.

And suddenly she realised what they’d seen. The distinctive scar that ran down one cheek—the only blemish in a face so insanely perfect that if it hadn’t been for that one single flaw, his features could have been the work of Michelangelo.

Jessie strained her ears to hear what was being said but the relentless drip of water from the surrounding roofs all but drowned out the words he was speaking and the eerie darkness made it impossible to read his lips.

At one point Jessie thought she heard someone mutter something that sounded like ‘The Sicilian’, but she couldn’t be sure and they obviously had no interest in including her in the conversation.

Just when she was wondering whether she could slip away unnoticed, they all turned to look at her.

Jessie stood welded to the spot and for one crazy moment she wondered whether Silvio was going to join them. Strip away the expensive clothes and he had the credentials. He’d lived his early life among people like these. He’d led the most feared gang of all.