Kidnapping His Bride

That he had to work so hard to try and change her mind was mind-blowing, but nothing had been normal about this situation from the start. What could he expect?

Withdrawing from her for the barest second, he studied her pretty, upturned face, her damp lips, her closed eyes and those thick, dark lashes. God, she was a true beauty, one he wanted to explore further, but she shut him down. Not giving him a chance.

So he took another kiss, this one lingering longer, coaxing her lips apart with his own as best as he could but she held firm. Stubborn female, he thought with slight amusement when he finally broke the kiss, noting the telltale throb of her pulse at the base of her neck when she opened her eyes to stare up at him in silent awe.

She was just as affected by the kiss as he was. Perhaps even more so. Triumph surged through him even knowing that she could still walk away.

“Goodbye, Cat,” he whispered, wishing his mouth was on hers once more.

“Goodbye.” Her voice trembled as she unconsciously swayed toward him.

“Want more?” he asked, sounding like a cocky bastard even to his own ears.

That snapped her out of her haze, damn his arrogant hide. “Absolutely not,” she returned, pushing him aside so she could stride past him, her heels clipping the concrete pavers as she hurried toward the open door and slipped inside the reception room, where the small gathering still seemed to be in full swing.

He remained outside for long, dark minutes, trying to gather his thoughts, his pride, his everything.

Rafe had come to this small event to confront his future wife and demand that she marry him and soon.

Instead, he would leave alone, with no fiancée, no future, no nothing. Just a lonely existence without bride to call his own. Until this very night, he hadn’t realized he truly wanted no one else, only Catalina.

And she’d turned him away instead.

Chapter Three

The night air was warm, the cool breeze having disappeared hours earlier, and Cat wondered for what felt like the hundredth time if she’d ever get any sleep. The clock on her bedside table mocked her, the time glowing bright red at her like a message brought forth by the devil himself.

Past two a.m. and she was still wide awake, her thoughts filled with a certain irritating man who drove her crazy.

And an irritating man who secretly drove her wild with barely restrained passion.

Kicking off the covers, she breathed a sigh of relief as the air stirred by the whirling fan overhead brushed against her bare legs. She turned her head to the right, staring out the open window at the dark night that beckoned. She still lived in her parents’ home, the house she grew up in, as did her sister. It wasn’t unusual in a traditional Italian household to have the daughters in their childhood home until they were married.

Looked like Cat would be living here a little longer than she originally thought.

She should be relieved that she didn’t have to go through her scam of a marriage, that Rafe let her go so easily. Instead, she felt…empty. Unsure. More than anything, she felt lonely.

And so, so stupid.

Rolling on her side, she stared out the window, counting the endless tiny twinkling stars that dotted the black velvet sky. Was it a mistake, ending it with Rafael? Funny how she worried over ending something that never existed in the first place. Yes, they’d shared one kiss—plenty of kisses, actually. All of them earth-shattering, bone-melting kisses, but she couldn’t base her entire life on a mere kiss.

Could she?

Despite the fact her lips still tingled, her body ached to be held in his arms. Her reaction to him was frustrating, exhilarating, and irritating, all at once. She wished he didn’t matter. She wished she could look at him and feel absolutely nothing.

But she couldn’t.

Cat heaved a loud sigh and forcibly closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep. Maybe she shouldn’t have broken it off with Rafe, but it was too late now for regrets. Ultimately, she would realize this was for the best. She couldn’t be tied down. Not by a man who would eventually hurt her.

She recalled her mother greeting them upon their return home from the party earlier. Her sad expression when she asked Annalisa if their father had made an appearance. The dark circles under their mother’s eyes, her thinning hair, liberally shot with gray. Hair she used to take such pride in now looked weak and frail.