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He’s never once mentioned love. It’s a chip to my heart, but if I can have him as he is now, it will be enough. Even if he is only marrying me because he doesn’t have it in him to kill me.
Maybe over time he’ll come to love me? He’ll surely have no problem making me fall deeper in love with him, not if last night was a taster of what’s to come.
“Who’s knocking?” he groans, sounding about as sleep-deprived as me.
“I’ll go check.” I glance at the electronic clock on the nightstand. “It’s eleven already.”
“No wonder. Must be Stephano.”
I pad over to the door, feeling the heat of his eyes on my body. I’m sore. And stiff. And deliciously sated in a way I’ve never known before. Matteo lived up to the ‘agreement.’ The one where he fucks me until I can’t walk anymore. One more time would have done it.
I peek through the peephole. “It’s breakfast.” And just like that my stomach growls.
“Good. We need to get going. Start the shower in the meantime; I’ll let them in.” He stands and I can’t help sweeping my gaze over the length of his body. It’s magnificent, muscled, his cock hardening as I can’t pull my gaze away from the beautiful art on his chest. Whoever the tattoo artist was knew what they were doing. “Where’re we going?” I ask on a swallow. I can’t believe I want him again. Already.
“Keep staring like that, kitten, and we’re not going anywhere,” Matteo says as he opens the closet and reaches for a robe. “We’re going home.”
My heart flips. Home?
Dad.
I force my expression to be neutral but I’m quivering inside. It’s surreal. “Okay. So soon?” Not that I have any say, but I wouldn’t have minded a few more days being sex-stunned by my future husband. My fake husband who’s going to become my real husband. It’s all too much and I don’t know why. Everything that’s happened since Matteo appeared on that veranda at our house in Boston has been extreme… but I’m not ready to leave this bubble yet. There’re some harsh realities waiting for me back home.
“I have business to wrap up with the Don.”
How weird that he keeps on referring to his dad as the Don.
Dad.
My dad and the Don. In business together, of sorts. It’s a tough pill to swallow.
Mom. And Kevin. Twelve years. I can’t break down now. I walk towards the bathroom door and as Matteo passes me, he grabs me around the waist, kisses me on the forehead and squeezes my ass. “We’ll have a real honeymoon at some point,” he whispers in my ear, as if it’s a secret promise.
I chuckle. “Okay.”
I head to the bathroom and get into the shower, waiting for Matteo to join me. But when Stephano’s deep voice sounds through the open bathroom door, it’s a signal that our time here is over. Especially when the brothers’ voices get raised in argument. By the sound of it, Matteo was out of line yesterday… but he came for me. I blink at the tears that surge up, not understanding why or where they come from. Yes, any conversation surrounding Mom’s and Kevin’s deaths always triggers me, even hours after the fact. And yes, last night was intense, but it was also easy, and fun… and full of joy I didn’t expect to find so addictive. Matteo is addictive.
I wash my hair and try to ignore my rambling thoughts, then stand under the spray for a long time, hoping it will ease my tired muscles everywhere else. Eventually it’s too hot and too long, and I step out of the shower and towel down. There’re more robes here, and since I once again don’t have any other clothes in this room than my discarded white dress, I put one on.
Stephano’s angry voice still comes through the open door and now I wish Matteo had walked over and closed it. For all I know, he is keeping an ear on me if not an eye. I walk out of the bedroom into the dining area of the suite. Matteo and Stephano both look up and I blush. It’s one thing to know something privately, but with Stephano knowing exactly what happened and what got lost last night, I just can’t help it.
Matteo holds out his hand for me and I take it. He pulls me onto his lap and presses his nose into my neck with a deep inhale. “You smell divine.”
He smells of coffee and sleep and I smile, suddenly shy.
Stephano pushes a white gift box with an elaborate pink bow in my direction. “Your morning after-care package,” he says. “A suitcase with clothes for you.” He points to the door where a cabin bag is pushed against the wall. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says as he stands. “We meet in thirty minutes. The plane is booked to take off in two hours.”
Matteo nods and I get off his lap.
“What happened to Gigi?” I ask as I sit down at the table to finally have something to eat.
“Gigi?” Stephano repeats.
“Yes. Gigi Trapani?” Matteo asks. “The one and only Gigi Trapani.”
I’m not sure for whose benefit they’re all playing dumb.
“Nothing,” Stephano grunts as he crosses to the door and opens it. “See you in thirty.”
