A tendril of his hair was pulling out of the elastic band at the nape of his neck, and she fought a weird compulsion to tuck it back behind his ear. She decided he would likely chop her hand off for merely touching him.
She’d never once entertained the notion of a bad boy before Ercole. When Ercole ripped her from her parents’ home, she wouldn’t have watched an R rated movie and certainly not ever considered a man with long hair and a wicked glint in his eye, especially one twice her age, to be attractive. Yet here she was, once again at odds with her brain and her body.
She didn’t look away from the anger in his eyes, proud if anything Ercole gave her a spine as part of his legacy.
He frowned at her before sighing loudly, “what’s done is done. We have more pressing matters to discuss.”
