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“You look beautiful when you pout.”

She glares at me. “I am not pouting.”

“No?” I arch an eyebrow. “You certainly are from where I’m standing.”

She rolls her eyes so dramatically that I almost laugh.

I lean in until my lips brush the shell of her ear. “Word of warning, sunshine. You should only roll your eyes at me if you want to get spanked. I would very much like to oblige you if that’s what you want.”

I feel the way her breath hitches. Goosebumps rise along the delicate skin of her shoulders.

“You like the idea of that, don’t you?” I murmur.

“No, I don’t,” she lies.

I chuckle softly. “You can lie all you want.”

As the song comes to an end, I slide one hand to the back of her neck and pull her closer. Then I kiss her.

At first she stiffens in shock, but slowly, beautifully, she softens. Her hands clutch the front of my suit jacket like she needs the support to stay upright.

The kiss deepens, slow and claiming, until the taste of her and the soft sound she makes nearly makes me forget we’re in a room full of people.

When I finally pull back, her cheeks are flushed, her gray-green eyes wide and dazed. I brush my thumb across her lower lip, voice low enough for only her to hear.

“Wow. Now I really can’t wait for our wedding night.”

Chapter 6

Roman

By the time the engagement celebration comes to an end, every instinct in me is screaming to take Aurora back to the hotel with me.

Instead, I watch her disappear into the Moretti estate while I climb into the waiting car.

I hate it.

I hate leaving her there. I hate knowing she's under Lorenzo's roof instead of mine. Most of all, I hate being separated from her now that I've finally found her.

Every minute apart from her feels like torture. Fortunately, I only have to endure it for a few more days.

By this weekend she'll be my wife, and after that, no one will keep us apart again. The thought is enough to settle the restless feeling in my chest.

When I arrive back at the hotel, I make my way to the presidential suite my men and I have occupied for the duration of our stay in Rome.

I toss my keys onto the coffee table, shrug off my suit jacket, and loosen the knot of my tie as I walk farther into the living room.

Before I can pour myself a drink, my phone begins vibrating in my pocket. I already know who's calling. Maxim, my younger brother.

I stare at his name on the screen for a moment, seriously considering ignoring it. I know damn well this isn't about business.

With a quiet groan, I sink onto the sofa and answer.

“So,” Maxim says instead of greeting me, amusement dripping from every word, “you're actually doing this?”

I lean my head back against the cushions and close my eyes. “Hello to you too.”

He laughs.