The Sicilian's Marriage Arrangement

They didn’t. “So did you.”

“Tell me their names.” He totally ignored his own culpability, but the deadly tone of his voice indicated he was far from ignoring the insult offered to her by the other guests.

Why was he taking this so personally?

“I don’t think I should.”

“Nevertheless, you will.”

“Don’t try to boss me around, Luciano.” She would have sounded a lot more convincing if her voice hadn’t broken on his name, but suddenly he was looming too close and she felt way more intimidated than she wanted to.

“I am a bossy guy by nature, ask my sister. It is something you will have to get used to, cara.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I want the names of the men who made importunate remarks to you.”

“There really weren’t that many.” Two to be exact, but at the time it had definitely been two too many.

“So recalling their names should not be a difficulty, Si?”

She sighed. “What are you going to do if I tell you?”

“I will have words with them.”

“That’s all? Just words.”

His expression was unreadable. “Just words.”

She named the two men who had gone out of their way to be so objectionable. One had even trapped her in the hallway and kissed her. After Luciano’s kiss, any other man’s mouth was a repugnance and she had kicked him in the shin, leaving him hopping on one leg and cursing her.

“You must believe I did not intend such a thing to happen.”

“I know.” At least she did now. His shock and rage were too real. “However, you have got to see that it would be better for me if you just left me alone. I know I’m introverted and my looks are nothing to speak of, but I’m a woman with feelings and I don’t want to be hurt any more.”

And he was the only man with the real power to hurt her. The others had caused her embarrassment, but Luciano’s rejection had cut deeply into her heart and left her bleeding.

“I did not hurt you.”

How could he say that? “You pushed me away like I was diseased! You left! You didn’t come back. I don’t know what you are up to now, but I’m not such a believer in fairy tales that I would entertain for one minute the thought I could be someone special in your life.”

A charming smile tilted his lips. “So you see me as Prince Charming and yourself the frog? I assure you, I am more than willing to kiss you and turn you into a princess.”

His mockery was the limit. Her eyes burned with tears she did not want to shed in front of him. “Leave me alone, Luciano. Just leave me alone.” She spun on her heel and this time she made her escape good. She made it to the bathroom and slammed the door only to discover it had no lock.

She looked around wildly, but there was no escape.

She stared at the knob and willed it to stay immobile accepting she had absolutely no telekinetic powers when the knob turned.

The door opened and Luciano filled the doorway, his dark gaze probing her with tactile intensity. “You have taken me wrong, bella mia. It was a little joke. A poor one, but only a joke.”

“Get out,” she said, her voice breaking on a sob, “I want to freshen up.”

He shook his head. “I cannot leave you in such distress.”

“Why not? You did six months ago.”

“But I did not know so at the time.”

“Are you trying to say that if you had, you would have stayed? That you would not have rejected me so publicly and treated me like the kiss meant nothing to you?”

His face was tight with frustration, but he did not answer. Probably because a truthful answer would put him even further in the wrong.

“I didn’t think so,” she said, sounding every bit as cynical as the women who had mocked her at the party.

In a move that shocked her, he reached out and pulled her to him. “That is in the past. This is now. We begin from here, cara.”

She hated her treacherous body that longed to melt against him. “I’m not up to your speed.” Miserably aware that it was too true, she tried to pull away. “I belong with someone like David.”

She stared in mesmerized fascination as his rage went nuclear. “You belong with me,” he said with lethal intensity. Then his mouth crashed down on hers.

She thought the New Year’s Eve kiss had been hot, but it was nothing like this. Nothing.

Luciano was branding her with his mouth. There was no other way to describe how his lips molded her own, the way his tongue forced entry into her too willing mouth. He tasted the same and yet different. No champagne to dilute the impact of the flavor that was uniquely him.

Hard masculine hands clamped to her waist and lifted. She landed plastered from lips to toe-tips against the ungiving contours of an aroused male body. He aligned her with him so that the evidence of his arousal was pressed into the apex of her thighs. Sliding one hand to her bottom, he manipulated her so that his hardness teased the sensitive flesh of her femininity right through the layers of her clothes.