King of Wrath (Kings of Sin #1) by Ana Huang

His lips parted on a sardonic breath. “How many times are you going to make me say it?”

“Just once,” I said softly.

He regarded me with dark, hooded eyes.

The clock ticked with deafening precision, and my soft cotton T-shirt suddenly felt too heavy.

“Business would be staying in California and celebrating a deal I’d worked a year on instead of rushing back to see you,” he finally said, his voice low and loaded with gravel. “Business would be completing my D.C. trip instead of waking my pilot up for a last-minute flight home. In all my years as CEO, I’ve only cut a work trip short twice, Vivian, and both those instances were because of you.” A wry twist of his lips. “So no, it’s not just fucking business anymore.”

The butterflies took flight again, soaring so high the velvety tips of their wings brushed my heart.

I grasped for an appropriate response before I settled on the only word that came to mind.

“Oh.”

Ironic amusement ghosted through his gaze. “Yes, oh,” he said dryly. “Your turn, mia cara. Why did you say no to Heath?”

His tone was lazy, but there was nothing lazy about the way he watched me, like a predator locked on its prey, his muscles coiled with tension.

“Because I don’t have romantic feelings for him anymore,” I said, my voice soft. “And because I might have them for someone else.”

Now that the emotional shock from last night had cleared, I realized my conversation with Heath had provided some much-needed clarity.

Once upon a time, I’d loved him, and I felt guilty for the way things had ended between us. But it’d been two years. I wasn’t the same person I’d been when we dated, and I hadn’t felt anything except surprise, sadness, and a bit of annoyance when we talked.

All this time, I thought I’d missed Heath, but I missed the idea of him. I missed having a partner. I missed being loved and being in love.

Unfortunately, I could no longer find those things with him.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains and gilded Dante’s face, casting soft shadows beneath his brow and cheekbones. He was so still he resembled a golden sculpture in repose, but the air sparked like dry kindling.

“It’s not just business for you.” I forced back the uprising of nerves in my stomach. “And it’s not just duty for me.”

The air turned dense, heavy with meaning. A faint car horn sounded dozens of stories below, but we didn’t look away.

“Good.” The rough sound brushed my skin with startling intimacy.

My pulse drummed in my ears.

I smoothed a clammy hand over my thigh, unsure what to do or say next.

Do we kiss? Continue the conversation? Go our separate ways?

I stuck with the safest option.

“Well, I’m glad we had that talk. I really do have a work crisis, so I’ll get back to my room—”

“This is your room.”

I gave Dante a dubious stare. Maybe the lack of caffeine had affected his memory.

“I hate to tell you this, but this is not, in fact, where I’ve been sleeping the past five months,” I said patiently. “My room is at the other end of the hall. You made a big show of distinguishing it when I moved in. Remember?”

“Yes, but I think it’s clear the boundaries we set that day are no longer applicable.” Dante notched a dark brow. “Don’t you agree?”

My pulse tripped into overdrive. “What are you suggesting?”

“That we set new boundaries. No more separate bedrooms, no more sneaking out in the morning…” His expression darkened. “And no more contact with Heath.”

Normally, I would’ve chafed at Dante’s attempt to control who I could talk to, but after last night’s debacle, I understood where he was coming from. If he had an ex who was hellbent on breaking us up, I wouldn’t want him talking to her either.

“What a shame,” I said. “I’d planned to invite him over for dinner.”

Dante didn’t look amused.

“It was a joke.”

Nothing.

I sighed. “On that note, if we’re setting new boundaries, I have a few of my own. One…” I ticked them off on my fingers. “No more scowling as your default expression. Your face is close to freezing that way, and I’d rather not wake up to the Grinch for the rest of my life.”

“I’m much better looking than the Grinch,” he grumbled. “And if people stopped pissing me off, I wouldn’t scowl so much.”

“Other people aren’t the problem. Remember when we passed by a dog park around Christmas and saw those adorable huskies? You glared at them so hard they started howling.”

“I wasn’t glaring at them,” he said impatiently. “I was glaring at their outfits. Who dresses their dogs up as reindeer? It’s ridiculous.”

“It was Christmas. At least they weren’t dressed as elves.”

Dante’s frown deepened. We’ll work on that later.

“Anyway.” I moved on before we veered too deep into an argument about canine fashion. “Back to the boundaries. No more disappearing for weeks at a time with less than forty-eight hours’ notice unless it’s truly an emergency. No more shutting down when you’re upset and things don’t go your way. And…” My teeth tugged on my bottom lip. “We should commit to at least one date every week.”