Anna and Jonathan turned at the same time—and there was Vincenzo, standing only a few feet away, his expression carved into a mask of stone-cold rage.
His hands were at his sides, his fingers curled into fists, while his dark, pitch-black eyes locked onto Jonathan’s hand still resting on her waist.
Jonathan released her immediately, lifting his hands in surrender. “Hey, man—there’s nothing going on. We were just talking.”
Vincenzo did not look at him.
His eyes were on Anna, and there was something in them that made her stomach drop.
"Come here," he growled.
Anna moved without thinking, her legs carrying her across the space between them.
She stopped in front of him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, to see his chest rise and fall with each controlled breath.
He
