Claiming My Bride of Convenience
And then I kissed her.
She tasted just as sweet as she had last night, her mouth opening under mine as her head fell back and I plundered her soft depths. And no matter how much I tasted, I felt only a deeper need for more.
Her body was soft and pliant under my hands, the dip of her waist fitting my palm so perfectly. I slid my hand under her loose top, felt her skin like silk beneath my questing fingers, the lovely fullness of her breast resting in my palm. She was perfect. Surprising, but perfect.
‘Matteo...’
My name was a moan on her lips and I liked it that way. I liked it very much. I backed her against the door, pressing against her, thrilling to the way one slender leg slipped between mine and hooked around my calf. Now she was the one pulling me closer, and I went gladly. The only problem was the number of clothes we were both still wearing.
I unsnapped her jeans, my hand sliding towards the silky depths hidden there, and her whole body tensed.
‘No, we can’t...’
‘We can, I assure you.’
I kissed her again, to remind her just how much we were both enjoying this, but with what felt like superhuman effort Daisy wrenched herself away.
‘No. No, I won’t be had like some—some harlot against a door!’ Tears glittered in her eyes.
I tamped down on the sexual frustration roaring through me. ‘I think we could have made it to the bed.’
‘No, you don’t get it at all.’ She shook her head despairingly. ‘And you never will. Because you—you don’t even understand what a relationship is, Matteo. I’ve read the tabloids—’
So that was how she’d formed her opinion of me? I suppose I couldn’t expect anything else. It wasn’t as if we knew each other—yet.
‘Gossip rags,’ I dismissed. ‘I’d hardly trust them.’
‘They report that you’re with a different woman every week.’
Irritation bit deep, and I masked it with a tone of boredom. ‘Hardly every week. Every other week, perhaps.’
‘And now you expect me to believe you want to be married in the—the biblical sense, and stay faithful to one woman? To me?’
I hesitated for the briefest second—only because I wanted to be sure. I always kept my promises. But it was enough to have her grabbing for her bag and reaching for the door.
‘Never mind. That’s answer enough. I don’t know why you’ve changed your mind, or why you think having a real marriage—which it wouldn’t be—is a good idea. Perhaps you like a challenge.’ She shook her head. ‘Or perhaps I’m a novelty. But I do know this. A marriage like you’re suggesting would be a disaster for both of us.’
‘You don’t even know what I’m suggesting,’ I snapped. I’d had quite enough of her sweeping statements.
‘And I don’t want to find out,’ she retorted.
And then she wrenched open the door and was gone.
I stood there for a moment, breathing hard, my blood firing through me. Perhaps we wouldn’t have made it to the bed. But one thing I knew with complete certainty—this wasn’t over yet. In fact, it was just beginning.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘DAISY, ARE YOU LISTENING?’
Maria’s voice was playfully exasperated as I tried to refocus on the accounts in front of me.
‘Yes, yes—sygnomi. I’m a bit distracted, that’s all.’ I pulled the ledger towards me, intent on seeming businesslike as usual. ‘We’re well into the black for the first time. That’s a very good thing.’
‘Yes, and the demand is now greater than the supply. That is how you say it, yes?’
‘Yes.’
I smiled, thankful yet again that Maria Petrakis spoke English. She’d been my right-hand woman since I’d come to Amanos, and I could not have started Amanos Textiles without her.