“he said curtly later that same night, appearing in the doorway of her bedchamber. Elena was curled up in the blue-and-white armchair near one of the sweeping, open windows, staring out at the dark sea and the silver pathway that rippled there, stretching toward the swollen orange moon hanging low on the horizon. She’d been thinking about resistance. About surrender. About how to use this uncontrollable passion for her own ends before it swallowed her whole. “I knew I meant to lock that door,” s...he murmured, dropping her mask into place as she turned to look at him. “Tonight,” Alessandro told her in that same clipped, commanding tone, the slight narrowing of his fierce eyes the only indication he’d heard her. “And for good. This particular game is over and I think we both know you lost.” He’d showered. She could smell the faint scent of his soap, fresh and clean. His thick hair lay in damp waves on his head, and he no longer looked the way he had when she’d left him in the dining room.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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