Another kiss. A little to the right this time. “Then why did I buy it?”
I squeeze the bracelet in my hand and press it to his chest. “I have no idea.”
Salvatore’s hand covers mine, and he pries my fingers from around the gold circlet. I let go of the bracelet and open my eyes to see him toss the million-dollar antique behind the sofa as if it were an empty soda can.
I gasp. “Are you crazy?”
“Why”—he buries his fingers in my hair, pulling my head lower until my mouth almost touches his lips—“did I buy the bracelet, Milene?”
“Because I liked it?” I whisper against his lips.
“Because you liked it,” he says as he presses his mouth to mine.
There is nothing delicate or light in his kiss. It’s hungry. Hard. Perhaps it’s even a little hostile. His hand moves down my back and under my shirt
