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I'd forgotten that he was pursuing a vendetta against my father. That he'd manipulated and coerced me at every turn.

I'd simply been a woman enjoying a day with a man who looked at her as if she were the most precious thing in his world.

And that terrified me.

"It doesn't matter. One perfect day doesn't erase everything else."

"No," he agreed, his gaze never leaving mine. "But it's a start."

His head dipped lower, and I knew he was going to kiss me. Every cell in my body screamed for me to turn away, to deny him, to maintain the last fragile barrier between us.

Instead, I tilted my face up to meet him.

His lips brushed against mine, a kiss so gentle it was barely there, a question, not a command. The tenderness of it shattered me.

I sighed against his mouth, my hands coming up to clutch the front of his coat.

He took the invitation, deepening the kiss with an aching slowness that was somehow more devastating than his usual passionate dominance.

We stood there in the gathering dusk, locked in an embrace that felt suspiciously like surrender, delicate snowflakes beginning to fall around us.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with a hunger that matched my own. "We should go.”

I glanced toward the waiting Maserati, assuming we'd be heading back to Rome because of the weather. "The snow will make the drive dangerous."

“Our plans have not changed. Get in."

"Only you would think you could defy even Mother Nature."

Sebastian brushed a snowflake from my cheek, his touch lingering. "It’s part of my charm. Come one. We'll be late for the surprise I've arranged if we don't leave now."

"What surprise?" I asked, curiosity winning over caution.

He opened the passenger door of the Maserati, his expression giving nothing away. "You'll see, babygirl. Some things are worth the anticipation."

My pulse quickened at the secretive curve of his lips. "There's more planned?"

"I'm just getting started."

I stiffened, suddenly aware of how much control I'd surrendered today.

How easily I'd fallen under his spell, forgetting everything he'd done.

The manipulation. The violence. The threats.

"No." I stepped back, crossing my arms over my chest. "I want to go back to Rome."

Sebastian's expression darkened, that momentary tenderness vanishing. "That's not an option."

"I'm not asking, Sebastian. I'm telling you." My voice trembled despite my attempt to sound firm. "This—whatever this is—stops now. Take me back to Rome."

His jaw tightened as he stalked toward me, backing me against the car door. "You don't give the orders here, dolcezza."

"You can't force me to⁠—"

"Can't I?" He caught my wrist, his grip tight enough to make me wince. "You seem to forget who I am. What I'm capable of."

"How could I possibly forget? You remind me constantly."