The Bride's Awakening - By Kate Hewitt Page 0,19

with a bleak honesty that turned her voice a bit ragged. ‘I never thought to have the opportunity.’

‘Then this marriage suits us both.’

She gave a little instinctive shake of her head. He spoke as if it were agreed, the proverbial done deal. It couldn’t be that easy. She couldn’t be that easy. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’ He’d moved closer to her; she could feel him by her shoulder, the heat and the musk of him.

‘We’re talking about marriage, Vittorio. A lifetime commitment.’

‘So?’

‘Such a decision requires some thought.’

‘I can assure you I have thought of it a good deal.’

‘Well, I haven’t.’ She turned around, suddenly angry. ‘I haven’t thought about it at all.’

He nodded, annoyingly unperturbed. ‘You must have questions.’

She didn’t answer. Of course she had questions, but they weren’t ones she necessarily wanted to ask. Why do you want to marry me? What if we hate each other? Do you even desire me at all?

Why am I so tempted?

She looked up, taking a breath. ‘I don’t even know what you think of marriage…of a wife. What would you expect of me? How would we…get on…together?’ It seemed ridiculous even to ask the questions, for surely she wasn’t seriously considering his outrageous proposal. Yet, even so, Ana was curious. She wanted to know the answers.

‘We’d get on together quite well, I imagine,’ Vittorio replied easily. Ana wanted to scream.

You’re not attracted to me, she wanted to shout. I saw how you looked at me in that first moment—you summed me up and dismissed me! And now you want to marry me?

She’d convinced herself she could live without love. But desire? Attraction? Could she give her body to a man who looked at her with disdain or, worse, disgust? Could she live with herself, if she did that, day after day?

‘Ana, what are you thinking?’ Vittorio’s voice was gentle, concerned. She almost wanted to tell him, yet she knew she couldn’t bear the truth of his confession, or the deception of his denial. She let out a long shuddering breath.

‘Surely there are other women who fulfil your criteria,’ she said at last.

Vittorio shook his head. ‘No. There are few women with your knowledge of wine, Ana, or of this region. And of course your vineyard combined with mine would give us both a legacy for our children. And I appreciate your breeding and class—’

‘You make me sound like a horse. I’m as good as, aren’t I?’ Calm once more, she spoke without rancour, merely stating the rather glum fact.

‘Then consider me one as well.’

‘A stallion, you mean?’ and her mouth quirked upwards with wry amusement in spite of all the hurt and disappointment she felt.

‘Of course.’ Vittorio matched her smile. ‘If I am considering this marriage a business, there is no reason you cannot as well. We are each other’s mutual assets.’

Ana bit her lip. He made it sound so easy, so obvious. So natural, as if bartering a marriage over billiards in this day and age was a perfectly normal and acceptable thing to do. Vittorio had already told her he would not love her. Yet, Ana asked herself with bleak honesty, would someone else, if she were interested in love, which she’d already told herself she wasn’t? Funny how much convincing that took.

She would be thirty years old in just two months. She hadn’t had a date of any kind in over five years, and the last one had been appalling, an awkward few hours with a man with whom she’d shared not one point of sympathy. She’d never had a serious boyfriend. She’d never had sex. Was Vittorio’s offer the best she’d get?

And, Ana acknowledged as she sneaked a glance at him from under her lashes, she could certainly do worse. He’d shed his jacket and tie and undone the top two buttons of his shirt. Under the smooth luxurious fabric, his muscles moved in sinuous elegance. His dark hair gleamed in the dimly lit room like polished ebony. The harsh lines of his jaw and cheek were starkly beautiful…He was beautiful. And he wanted to be her husband.

The thought was incredible. Insane. It couldn’t work. It wouldn’t. Vittorio would come to his senses, Ana would feel that devastating disappointment once again.

He wouldn’t desire her. She’d see it in his eyes, feel it in his body—

And yet. Yet. Even now, she considered it. Even now, her mind raced to find possibilities, solutions. Hope. Some part of her wanted to marry Vittorio. Some part of her wanted that life. That, Ana knew,