“You think you won’t be?”
“How can you give what you never had?”
“I hardly remember my mother, Matteo, but I did a good job with my brothers and sisters.”
“Perhaps I find that an absence of a good parent is not the same as having bad ones. What lessons shall I teach our child, cara? The kind my father taught me? How to find a man who owes you money? How to break his kneecaps with efficiency when he doesn’t pay up? I think not.”
He had thought she would look shocked by that, but she hardly flinched, her eyes never wavering from his. “Again you underestimate me, Matteo. You forget the family I come from.”
“You are so soft,” he said, speaking his mind, speaking his heart. “Breakable. Like a flower. You and I are not the same.”
She nodded slowly. “It’s easy to crush a flower. But if it’s the right kind of flower, it comes back, every year, after every winter. No matter how many times you destroy the surface, it keeps on living underneath.”
Her words sent a shot of pain straight to his chest, her quiet strength twisting something deep inside of him. “Don’t pretend you were forced into this,” he said softly. “You were given your choice.”
“And you were given yours.”
He nodded once and turned away from her, walked out of the room ignoring the pounding in his blood, ignoring the tightness in his chest. Trying to banish the image of his hand closing around a blossom and crushing the petals, leaving it completely destroyed.
Alessia looked around the lavish, now empty, suite that she was staying in until … until she didn’t know when. Weeks of not being able to get ahold of Matteo, not knowing what she would do if she didn’t, and now he was suddenly in her life like a hurricane, uprooting everything, taking control of everything.
She really shouldn’t be too surprised about it. That was one thing she did know about Matteo Corretti, beyond that stupid ream of noninformation he’d given her. He was controlled. Totally. Completely.
Twice she’d seen him lose that control. Once, on a sunny day in Sicily while he was staying at his grandparents’ rural estate. The day that had cemented him in her mind as her potential salvation.
And their night in New York. There had been no control then, not for either of them.
She pictured him as he’d been then. The way he’d looked at her in the low light of the bar. She closed her eyes and she was back there. The memory still so strong, so painfully sweet.
“What brings you to New York, Alessia?”
“Bachelorette party.” It was easy enough to leave out that it was for her. If he didn’t know about Alessandro, then she wouldn’t tell him.
“Did you order any strippers?”
Her cheeks heated. “No, gosh, why? Are you offering to fill the position?”
“How much have you had to drink?” he asked, a smile on his face. It was so rare for her to see him smile. She couldn’t remember if she ever had.
“Not enough.”
“I could fix that, but I think I’d like a dance and if you’re too drunk you won’t be able to keep up.”
“Why are you talking to me?” she asked. She’d known there was a chance he could be here. He owned the hotel, after all. Part of her had hoped she’d catch a glimpse of him. A little bit of torture, but torture that would be well worth it.
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t spoken to me since—” something flashed in his eyes, a strange unease, and she redirected her words “—in a long time.”
“Too long,” he said, his voice rough.
Her heart fluttered, a surge of hope moving through her. She tried to crush it, tried to stop the jittery feelings moving through her now.
“So, do you have a dance for me?” he asked. “For an old friend?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t deny him, couldn’t deny herself.
She left her friends in the corner of the bar, at their table with all of their fruity drinks, and let Matteo lead her away from them, lead her to the darkened dance floor. A jazz quartet was playing, the music slow and sensual.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his body. Heat shot through her, heat and desire and lust.
His eyes locked with hers as they swayed in time to the music, and she was powerless to resist the desire to lean in and press her lips to his. His tongue touched the tip of hers, a shot of need so sharp, so strong, assaulting her she thought it would buckle her knees then and there.
She parted her lips for him, wrapping her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair. Years of fantasies added fuel to the moment.
Matteo Corretti was her ultimate fantasy. The man whose name she called out in her sleep. The man she wanted, more than anything. And this was her last chance.
Panic drove her, made her desperate. She deepened the kiss, her movements clumsy. She didn’t know how to make out. She’d never really done it before. Another thing that added fuel to the fire.
She’d never lived. She’d spent all of her life at the Battaglia castello, taking care of her siblings, making sure her family didn’t crumble. Her life existed for the comfort of others, and she needed a moment, a night, to have something different.
To have something for her.
Matteo pulled away from her, his chest rising and falling heavily with each indrawn breath. “We cannot do that here.”
She shook her head. “Apparently not.” The fire between them was burning too hot, too fast, threatening to rage out of control.
“I have a suite.” A smile curved his lips. “I own the hotel.”
She laughed, nervous, breathless. She flexed her fingers, where her engagement ring should be. The engagement ring she hadn’t put on tonight as she’d gotten ready for the party.
“Please. Just one night,” she said.
“Only one, cara mia?”
“That’s all I have to give.”
“I might be able to change your mind,” he said, his voice rough. He leaned in and kissed her neck, his teeth scraping her delicate skin, his tongue soothing away the sting.
Yes. She wanted to shout it. Yes, forever. Matteo, ti amo.
Instead, she kissed him again, long and deep, pouring everything out, every emotion, every longing that had gone unanswered for so long. Every dream she knew would never be fulfilled. Because Matteo might be hers tonight, but in just a month, she would belong to another man forever.
“Take me to your room.”
Alessia shook her head, brought herself back to the present. Everything had been so perfect that night. It was the morning that had broken her heart. The cold light of day spilling over her, illuminating the truth, not allowing her to hide behind fantasy any longer.
She could remember just how he’d looked, the sheets tangled around his masculine body, bright white against his dark skin. Leaving him had broken her.
She’d wanted so badly to kiss him again, but she hadn’t wanted to chance waking him.
Somehow that night she’d let her fantasies become real, had let them carry her away from reality, not just in her imagination but for real. And she couldn’t regret it, not then, not now.
At least, she hadn’t until recently. The way Matteo looked at her now … she hated it. Hated that he saw her as a leash.
But it was too late to turn back now. The dutiful daughter had had her rebellion, and it had destroyed everything in its path.
“You don’t go halfway, do you, Alessia?” she asked the empty room.
Unsurprisingly, she got no answer.
CHAPTER FIVE
“YOU CANNOT SIMPLY take what is mine without paying for it, Corretti.”
Matteo looked at Antonioni Battaglia and fought a wave of rage. The man had no idea who he was dealing with. Matteo was a Corretti, the capability to commit hideous acts was a part of his DNA. More than that, Matteo had actually done it before. Had embraced the violence. Both with cold precision, and in the heat of rage.
The temptation to do it again was strong. Instead, he leaned forward and adjusted a glass figurine that his grandmother had had commissioned for him. A perfect model of his first hotel. Not one of the Corretti Hotels, the first hotel he’d bought with his own personal fortune.
“And what exactly is that?” Matteo asked, leaning back in his office chair.
“My daughter. You defiled her. She’s much less valuable to me now, which means you’d better damn well marry her and make good on the deal I cut with your grandfather, or the Correttis won’t be doing any trading out of Sicily.”
“My mistake, I thought Alessia’s body belonged to her, not you.”
“I’m an old-fashioned man.”
“Be that as it may, the law prevents you from owning anyone, which means Alessia does not belong to you.” He gritted his teeth, thought of Alessia’s siblings, of all she’d given up to ensure they would be cared for. “However, at my fiancée’s request, I have decided to honor the agreement.” He paused for a moment. “What are your other children doing at the moment?”
“I’ve arranged for the boys to get a job in the family business.”
Matteo gritted his teeth. “Is that what they want?”
“You have to take opportunity where it exists.”
“And if I created a different opportunity?” He turned the figurine again, keeping his hands busy, keeping himself from violence.