to break into the house. I padded down the hall, moving slowly into the living room, surprised to see the candles were still lit, the door remaining open. Had he anticipated my return, even hoping I would defy the rules once again?
I didn’t see him at first, although I did notice he’d kept his promise, cleaning up the kitchen, even placing the bottle of wine on the counter with a fresh glass. He had been waiting for my usual disobedience. The wine set next to a bottle of scotch, obviously his drink of choice. I ran my fingers over both, trying to control my breathing. Damn him for sending me away. I needed some time to think, to make certain decisions in my own mind.
As I moved toward the doors, I heard a fitful sound. Peering over the couch, I had to slap my hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound. Matteo was on his side, his body shifting back and forth.
And the man was tossing and turning.
“I want to feel the burning love that keeps me awake at night, tossing and turning.”
His words bore into my mind, my heart racing. Could he actually give a shit about me, to care enough to defy the sect? I backed away, but not before hearing the murmur coming from his lips.
“Winter...”
I moved silently, finding another glass and adding ice cubes, my hand shaking. I couldn’t fully understand any of this. Not his actions and words or what was really expected of me. Then I poured a hefty amount of scotch, refusing to look at him again as I walked toward the deck. While I knew what he’d told me, the command about not leaving the house, I couldn’t stand listening to his anguished words any longer. I wanted to go to him, to have him hold me.
God. I was such a stupid fool to think we could be anything but what we were.
I went outside, moving to the far reaches of the deck in order to find some space other than being cooped up in my room. The moonlight was beautiful, casting a shimmer of opalescent colors across the ocean water, the sound of the waves rolling against the beach comforting. Yet I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders, the ugliness of not knowing what to do. If only I could have my mother listen to me, to share in my fears and give me good advice.
If only.
I was on my own as I’d been most of my life. I couldn’t handle a relationship like my mother and father had, even if they were entirely different people behind closed doors. No, money and clout meant nothing without true love.
And I was some ridiculous romanticizer who would never find Prince Charming. Maybe that’s what I needed to accept first in order to go through with my duties as daughter of a prominent family. I was strong enough to endure marriage to a gorgeous man in order to keep the sanctity of our special little world. As long as some of my rules were followed. I would have a life. I would be a nurse. I would enjoy having my own friends.
I stood basking in the warm breeze and the scent of the ocean, sipping on the drink, a liquor that somehow suited him. I was amused at the thought, as if I could garner any more information about him by knowing the kind of drinks he liked.
He certainly wasn’t going to let me in that easily. Maybe that was for the best.
As I peered up at the glistening stars, I couldn’t help but remember the rhyme my mother always said when she caught me staring at the sky, “I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.”
There was no sound, only the subtle vibrations gyrating throughout my body. Suddenly, the stars seemed brighter, the moon closer. I wanted to remain rational, to pretend that what I would be forced to do was nothing but a business arrangement, but in my heart, I knew better.
I was falling hard for the brooding man with the dazzling eyes and husky voice. When I felt his hands on my shoulders, sliding ever so slowly down, his arms finally wrapping around me, I shuddered.
Matteo moved our bodies to an unseen movie as he held me, the warmth of his body filling my very soul. I closed my eyes, lolling my head against his chest, savoring the moment