A Marriage Fit for a Sinner

For the record, I won’t be accepting any of the monetary compensation offered, nor will I be seeking anything from you, except my freedom. If you choose to pursue my family, then you’ll do so without my involvement, because I’ve done my duty to my family and I’m moving on. I won’t let you use me as a pawn in your vendetta against my father.

You’re aware of the state of my father’s health, so I hope you’ll choose mercy over retribution.

Regardless of your decision, I’ll be moving out of the penthouse tomorrow.

Please don’t contact me.

Eva.

‘Send it, please,’ she said.

Anyetta clicked the button, then looked up. ‘He just opened it.’

Eva nodded jerkily. ‘Thank you.’

She walked out with scalding tears filling her eyes. A solid presence registered beside her and when Romeo took her arm, Eva didn’t protest.

At the penthouse, she dropped her bag in the hallway, tugged off her boots and coat as her vision greyed. She made it into bed as her legs gave way and she curled, fully clothed, into a tight ball. Her last thought before blessed oblivion claimed her was that she’d done it.

She’d survived her first hour with a heart broken into a million tiny pieces. If there was any justice, she might just make it through the rest of her life with a shredded heart.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

IN THE SPLIT SECOND before wakefulness hit, Eva buried her nose in the pillow that smelled so much like Zaccheo she groaned with pure, incandescent happiness.

Reality arrived with searing pain so acute, she cried out.

‘Eva.’

She jolted upright at the sound of her name. Jagged thoughts pierced her foggy brain like shards of bright light through glass.

She was no longer in her own suite, but in Zaccheo’s.

Her clothes were gone, and she was stripped down to her bra and panties.

Zaccheo was sitting in an armchair next to the bed, his eyes trained on her.

And he was clean-shaven.

His thick stubble was gone, his hair trimmed into a short, neat style that left his nape bare.

Despite his altered appearance, his living, breathing presence was far too much to bear. She jerked her head away, stared down at the covers she clutched like a lifeline.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.

‘You summoned me. So here I am,’ he stated.

She shook her head. ‘Please. Don’t make it sound as if I have any power over your actions. If I did you would’ve answered my numerous phone calls like a normal person. And that email wasn’t a summons. It was a statement of intent, hardly demanding your presence.’

‘Nevertheless, since you went to so much trouble to make sure it reached me, I thought it only polite to answer it in person.’

‘Well, you needn’t have bothered,’ she threw back hotly, ‘especially since we both know you don’t have a polite bone in your body. Things like consideration and courtesy are alien concepts to you.’

He looked perturbed by her outburst. Which made her want to laugh. And cry. And scream. ‘Are you going to sit there with that insulting look that implies I’m out of my mind?’

‘You must forgive me if that’s what my expression implies. I meant to wear a look that says I was hoping for a civilised conversation.’

She threw out her hands. ‘You have a damned nerve, do you know that? I...’ She stopped, her eyes widening in alarm as an unpleasant scent hit her nostrils. Swivelling, she saw the breakfast tray containing scrambled eggs, smoked pancetta, coffee, and the buttered brioche she loved.

Correction. She’d once loved.

Shoving the covers aside, she lunged for the bathroom, uncaring that she was half-naked and looked like a bedraggled freak. All she cared about was making it to the porcelain bowl in time.

She vomited until she collapsed against the shower stall, desperately catching her breath. When Zaccheo crouched at her side, she shut her eyes. ‘Please, Zaccheo. Go away.’

He pressed a cool towel to her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. ‘A lesser man might be decimated at the thought that his presence makes you physically ill,’ he murmured gravely.

Her snort grated her throat. ‘But you’re not a lesser man, of course.’

He shrugged. ‘I’m saved by Romeo’s report that you’ve been feeling under the weather recently.’

Eva opened her eyes, looked at him, then immediately wished she hadn’t. She’d thought his beard and long mane made him gloriously beautiful, but the sight of his chiselled jaw, the cut of his cheekbones, and the fully displayed sensual lips was almost blinding.