Alessia Mancini
As the bartender busied himself, Giovanni leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. "I can't be around you too often when you threaten our men like that," he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers cascading down my spine.
I turned to face him, one eyebrow raised. "Oh? And why is that, Mr. Moretti?"
His eyes darkened, pupils dilating with unmistakable desire. "Because," he said, fingers tightening possessively on my hip, "I'll spend all of my time fighting not to drag you into the closest empty office and bend you over the desk."
My breath caught in my throat, desire coiling low in my belly. The air between us crackled with tension, and for a moment, I wondered if he might do just that – consequences be damned.
"Is that so?" I managed, my voice huskier
