Diavolo

She hated him as much as he wanted her, a thorn in her side ever since they met, and it had only gotten worse with each lingering gaze between them.

As an aspiring journalist, Presley didn't believe in love-or lasting romantic relationships of any kind. The last thing she needed in her whirlwind of life was to get involved with her best's friends bodyguard-or rather the head of the Cosa Nostra. A man with little use of manners and secrets in his past.

Tall, handsome and covered with tattoos, a living and breathing hazard with a cold nature and quiet demeanor. A beautiful monster dressed in leather jackets, and tight fitting shirts. A made man.

Silvio had ever met a woman like her, who spent every minute glaring at him. One who he was consumed to touch despite his dislike for touch. A stubborn femme fatale with soft brown eyes and obsidian curls. A woman he'd been trying to resist for a long time.

When a threat from her past lands her into the very arms of her nemesis and into a fake relationship, she's forced to get to know him and suddenly, their fake relationship feels more real than anything she had ever own.

- preview -

God, it felt right like this was where it belonged-this was where I belonged. And she felt it too, given by the slight rush of her breathing, and dazed eyes. There was always this magnetic pull and tug between us, so irresistible and consuming.

"Silvio." She let out a small gasp, obviously not expecting me to touch her, and it burned. Everything right now burned but it felt good. Almost in an addicting way like the pain crossed the threshold and soared to become another feeling. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"You want me to stop right now, say it but this is a damn good idea." I said in a gruff voice. "Tell me you don't want this, tell me it's a bad idea and I'll stop."