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A red herring. I’ve been reduced to nothing but a smelly, rotting fish. A new low. “Fine.”
“So here’s what’s going to happen?—”
“I understand already. You don’t need to ask me if I understand.”
He lets go of my hand, and I give him my shoulder as I take a sip of my drink, really wanting to toss the glass into the ocean, where the water sprays against the cliff wall, about sixty feet below.
“I should gag you with this, drag you to our room, and whip that wet pussy into submission for your fucking insolence,” he says, deadly calm, as he shoves my panties into my hand. “Unfortunately, we’re being watched, and when it comes to my wife, I don’t put on that type of performance for my staff.”
He takes me by the shoulder and the command is there as we turn back to the house. “I have work to do and don’t need to worry about your naked little ass while I’m at it. So, you’re going to be a good girl and stay in our room. Notice, mia cara, you’re being guarded, so don’t do anything stupid.”
Matteo’s fingers slide down my arm, a deceptively tender caress, controlled, and not for the first time I’m reminded of the power he wields in his touch alone. This is all for show. My gaze flits around to where I notice the security detail for the first time. Men on the roof and far along the short wall, holding machine guns. By the side of the house, further away up the vineyard. They’re everywhere.
We make it back to the foyer in stubborn silence, but my mind is racing. All I want is to beg for him to live up to his word, to drag me to our room, and whip my wet pussy into submission for my fucking insolence.
I might be a virgin, but ever since he touched me, it’s as if innocence has been stripped from my eyes.
All I can see in my mind’s eye and all I want is the thousand ways in which Matteo Scalera can make me come.
28
MATTEO
Burley shows us to our room on the second floor of the old house. He has scraped it for any potential murder weapons, real ones or ones that could be manufactured from scratch. As we walk inside, Tasha’s breath catches.
“It’s so quaint.”
It’s so fucking small.
I wanted to be in the house, and Dominic’s team who inspected the space earlier this week deemed this room the safest. Never mind my own security, I’m not risking Tasha’s.
While I watched her zoned out on the plane, I kept thinking of my baby sister. She would have been around Tasha’s age if she hadn’t been stillborn. When I’m forced to be quiet like today on the flight, my mind often drifts to my mom, and a softer time in life when she was the barrier between us and the Don. When she died in childbirth everything changed. Six boys, at the mercy of a maniac.
I follow Tasha into the room, watching as she wrings her hands, her gaze taking in the double bed. The only bed.
Too small for my tastes, unless you’re really up for cuddling. Not my wheelhouse.
Yours. For one night.
Fuck. She knows how to mess with my head. Swinging between innocence and lust, then being so fucking sassy, I should really discipline her. She’s a back-chatting rebel, but I’ll never have it in me to hurt her. Not hurt her like some men do, thriving on female pain. Mom suffered enough. And we didn’t even know half of it. Tasha isn’t my sister or my mom, but fuck knows she’s the first woman I want to protect with some force I’ve never felt before.
It must be because this job is the Don’s vendetta, and not my own. I’ll always want retribution for Alex’s death, but on my own terms. Not the ones prescribed by him. The Don has left his mark on me, not only on my body, but in every choice I make. And the choice to go ahead with this virgin auction is starting to eat at me. For years, I’ve been using women only for sex and quick pleasure. But now here she is, crawling under my skin.
It fucking pisses me off. I need to focus on this job, get it done, so we can leave for Cannes. Stephano will be there, dealing with the auction, and I will hand Tasha over to him on a fucking silver platter.
“I’m going out.” I’ll deal with this one-bed situation when I’m back. I’ll have to deal, since I’m married, with a ring on my finger to ‘prove’ it.
“Where? Why?”
Fucking questions all the time. “I have meetings.” With people who have smoothed the way for me to kill the Sicilian.
“What do you expect me to do? There isn’t even a TV in this room.”
Nice and old school. “Enjoy the view. Burley will be outside your door. And the windows are being watched.”
“I’m already bored!” She sits down on the bed with a huff, but I ignore her, reaching for the doorknob to stop myself from doing something I shouldn’t. Yours. For one night. There’s no way I can sleep in the same bed with this woman. I’ll fuck her so hard she won’t have any memory of ever being a virgin in the first place.
I’m halfway out the door when I hear her lips smack behind me, followed by the very distinguishable blow. I turn back to face her. Did she actually just blow me a fucking kiss? “What was that?”
