I studied him, drawn to him, to his eyes. I remembered for a moment how the blue had turned nearly black when he’d been aroused. Remembered how he’d looked at me when I’d lain before him. How he’d taken me in. How he’d gripped his cock…

Then the image of what I’d found in his bedroom flashed across the screen of my memory.

I cleared my throat and focused on the firm set of his jaw instead of his eyes. The scruff along the chiseled line told me he’d probably not shaved in the two days he’d been gone, and it didn’t help my wandering mind. I lowered my gaze to his neck, to the exposed flesh there, the T-shirt hugging his powerful chest.

Shit. This wasn’t working. I was attracted to this man I wanted to hate. In spite of what he’d done, the physical attraction was like an energy between us, a living, breathing, scorching thing.

I closed my eyes and willed myself to focus. Opening them again, I forced myself to meet his eyes. But when I did, I saw what he saw. He knew his power over me.

“Were you with a woman the last two nights?” I blurted out.

He chuckled, apparently surprised. “Not like you think.”

So that was a yes?

“I felt ashamed of what I’d done. What I’d made you do.”

My neck and face heated.

“That’s why I left. I wasn’t with another woman. I wouldn’t be. We have a contract.”

“That binds me to you.” Nothing in the contract spoke of any obligation on his part, certainly not one to be celibate or faithful. It was not a marriage contract, after all.

“And me to you.”

Now I was confused. Salvatore leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee.

“Let me ask you again, Lucia. What do you know about me? Or perhaps the better question is, what do you think you know?”

“I know you’re Franco Benedetti’s son.” I stuck my chin out. “That’s all I need to know.”

“I think you’re smarter than that.”

“I know your hand shook when you signed the contract.”

He paused, his gaze faltering momentarily. “I’m not firstborn. I was never intended to be in the position I’m in.”

“You mean, being your father’s successor?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re stuck with me? If your brother were alive, I’d be his.”

“I mean I am obligated to do many things, which I would not choose to do and do not condone.”

“Me, you mean. You wouldn’t choose me?”

“Stop putting words in my mouth.”

“Isn’t that what you’re saying?”

“Why don’t you try listening for a change and remember not everything is about you, Lucia.”

Too shocked to retort, I unwittingly did as he said.