"What?" she asked, blinking at him in confusion.

"I said, let your hair down," he snapped, jaw tight.

Before she could fully register his words, Marcello reached forward, plucked the pin from her hair, and watched as her long, silken strands spilled down her back, shielding her bare skin from the hungry stares around them. He stared at the pin in his palm, his brows drawn low. What the hell was wrong with him?

A group of men approached, and Marcello slipped seamlessly into conversation, his ...