Wife (Betrothed 1)

When he shifted his gaze to me, my knees grew weak and I felt so damn shy. I was usually a mouthy and sassy girl, but all that attitude disappeared when I came face-to-face with a real man.

He was nothing like the boys I’d liked before.

He was mature wine, aged beef.

I shouldn’t even look at him that way. He was too old for me.

The man shifted his gaze to me then extended his hand. “You must be Sofia. Your father has told me so much about you.”

It took a few seconds for me to react, to reciprocate his gesture with a handshake.

He squeezed my hand hard, and then let go.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I forced myself to say.

His eyes lingered on mine for a moment longer before he turned back to my father. “Lovely party. I expect we’ll be here all night.”

“I hope so. I paid for a lot of booze, so we’d better drink it all.” He chuckled then looked at me. “This fine young man is making a name for himself in the finance world. I suspect he’ll be a big asset to us in a few years.”

“Yes,” he said. “You’re probably right.” He politely excused himself. “Have a good evening, Mr. Romano.”

“You too.” When he was gone, my father turned back to me. “Having a good time, Sofia?”

I’d been pretty bored…until he showed up. “Yeah…I think I am.”

I tried not to make my stare obvious, but it seemed like every time I looked at that hot man, he was already looking at me.

So he caught my stare.

I combated the redness in my cheeks as much as possible, but no amount of foundation could keep the color at bay. My eyes drifted to a table where a pack of cigarettes lay, an unguarded lighter there as well. The fact that there were so many people in the room actually made it easy to sneak around and get away with anything, so I grabbed a cigarette, lit it, and then walked outside.

It was late, so the balcony was deserted. The distant sound of voices carried through the windows and thudded against my eardrums. Every bit of laughter was obnoxious because it was so fake.

That was why I hated these events.

Publicity stunts.

I leaned against the wall, out of sight, and enjoyed my cigarette, my arms crossed and one foot planted against the wall. From the top story of the hotel, I had a prime view of Florence, the lights brilliant and beautiful. A breeze was in the air, and it licked at the sweat that formed on the back of my neck. Being separated from the herd was nice because I wouldn’t be tempted to stare at that sexy man.

The sexy man who was way out of my league.

I continued to pull the smoke into my lungs and let it drift from my nostrils. My parents had no idea I smoked, but they were aware I loved wine more than they did. With every drag of nicotine, I became calmer, tapping my finger against the tip so the ashes would fall to the floor.

My wrist relaxed as my head rested against the wall, feeling the fatigue settle into my bones when I realized it must be one in the morning by now. The crowd continued to party, but it couldn’t last much longer.

I’d only closed my eyes for a few seconds when the cigarette was ripped from my fingers.

Shit. I’d been caught.

My eyes opened and settled on the man who had stolen my attention since the moment I’d laid eyes on him.

He brought the cigarette to his lips, took a deep drag, and let the smoke drift away with the breeze. “You don’t strike me as a smoker.”

My heart raced a million miles an hour in my chest, and I lost all my confidence in the blink of an eye. This man made me so nervous, I could barely breathe, let alone think of a comeback. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally is just as bad as regularly.”

“I don’t see why.”

“Either one takes years off your life.” He took another drag from my cigarette then looked over the edge of the balcony to the city below. The smoke lifted from his lips, and he looked so sexy standing there.

“Maybe you should take your own advice.”

He shrugged. “I don’t plan to live long.”

I extended my hand. “Can I have it back?” Even if it was just to feel the moisture of his mouth against the tip of that cigarette. It was like a dirty kiss, nicotine and smoke mixed in between.

“No.” He crushed it within his palm without wincing then threw it in the garbage can.

“That was rude.”

“I’m an asshole, so no surprise there.” He stood with his body perpendicular to mine and stared at the marvelous view from our fancy party. His hands slid into the pockets of his suit as he enjoyed the fresh air with me.