A Hunger for the Forbidden - By Maisey Yates Page 0,19

it you know?”

“Because you aren’t that kind of person, Matteo.”

“Such confidence in me. Especially when you’re one of the very few people who has actually seen what I’m capable of.”

She had. She’d seen his brute strength applied to those who had dared try to harm her. It had been the most welcome sight in all of her life. “You protected me.”

“I went too far.”

“They would have gone further,” she said.

He took a step away from her, the darkness in his eyes suddenly so deep, so pronounced, it threatened to pull her in. “I have work to do. I’ll be at my downtown office. I’ve arranged to have a credit card issued to you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black card, extending his hand to her.

She took it, not ready to fight with him about it.

“If you need anything, whatever you need, it’s yours.” He turned away and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

She’d done the wrong thing again. With Matteo it seemed she could do nothing right. And she so desperately wanted to do right by him.

But it seemed impossible.

She growled, the sound releasing some of her tension. But not enough. “Matteo, why are you always so far out of my reach?”

This was Alessia’s second wedding day. Weird, because she’d never technically had a boyfriend. One hot night of sex didn’t really make Matteo her boyfriend. Boyfriend sounded too tame for a man like Matteo, anyway. Alessia finished zipping up the back of her gown. It was light, with flutter sleeves and a chiffon skirt that swirled around her ankles. It was lavender instead of white. She was a pregnant bride, after all.

There weren’t many people in attendance, but she liked that better. Her father, her brothers and sisters, Matteo’s grandmother, Teresa, and his mother, Simona.

She took the bouquet of lilacs she’d picked from the garden out of their vase and looked in the mirror. Nothing like what the makeup artist had managed on The Other Wedding Day, but today she at least looked like her.

She opened the guest bedroom door and tried to get a handle on her heart rate.

She was marrying Matteo Corretti today. In a sun-drenched garden. She was having his baby. She repeated that, over and over, trying to make it feel real, trying to hold on to the surge of good feelings it gave her. Because no matter how terrifying it was sometimes, it was also wonderful. A chance at something new. A chance to have a child, give that child the life that had been denied her. The life that had been denied Matteo.

The stone floor was cool beneath her bare feet, the palazzo empty, everyone outside waiting. She’d opted to forego shoes since that was how he said he knew her.

Barefoot in the garden. So, she would meet him as he remembered her. Barefoot in the garden, with her hair down. Maybe then they could start over. They were getting married today, after all, and in her mind that meant they would have to start trying to work things out. They would at least have to be civil.

She put her hands on the rail of the curved, marble staircase, still repeating her mantra. She walked through the grand foyer, decorated in traditional, ornate furniture that didn’t remind her one bit of Matteo, and she opened the door, stepping out into the sun.

The music was already playing. A string quartet. She’d forgotten to say what she wanted for music but this was perfect, simple.

And in spite of what Matteo had said, there was a photographer.

But those details faded into the background when she saw Matteo, standing near the priest, his body rigid, his physique displayed to perfection by a custom-made gray suit.

There was no aisle. No loud click of marble beneath her heels, just grass beneath her feet. And the guests were standing, no chairs. Her father looked like he was ready to grab her if she decided to run. Eva, Giana, Pietro and Marco looked worried, and she didn’t blame them. She had been their stability for most of their lives, their surrogate mother. And she hadn’t told them she was marrying Alessandro for convenience, which meant her disappearance, subsequent reappearance with a different groom and a publicly announced pregnancy must seem a few steps beyond bizarre to them.

She gave them her best, most confident smile. This was her role. To show them it was all okay, to hold everything together.

But her eyes were drawn