Alessio adored his brother but was indifferent to his father's wife. He hadn't liked how often his father remarried, and I had a feeling he didn't approve of how young Katherine was and thought her a gold digger.
I enjoyed Katherine's company. I'd gotten to know her better when Alessio and Cesare had been in Rome for their meeting. She was a sweet girl, and I got the impression that she genuinely loved Cesare. But I decided to keep my opinion to myself.
His father's party had been a grand affair with close to seventy guests converging at the villa. Alessio stayed at my side most of the night, proudly introducing me to his friends and relatives as his wife—much to their surprise. And his father's, from the look of shock and happiness on his face.
Day by day, I was falling harder and harder for my husband. And it had only been three weeks. But I couldn't help myself. I'd definitely pre-judged him, although I could hardly blame his attitude when we were first hitched. I hadn't exactly been jumping for joy either.
But now, I couldn't imagine not being with him. And I was so sure he felt the same.
On our last night in Sicily, we finally made love. Our three-week courtship had been building to this moment. We knew it was inevitable.
All my fears about my first time evaporated under his tender hands. He worshipped my body, his lips and tongue in places that made me blush. He whispered dirty things in Italian that I could not understand, but the urgency with which he uttered them moved me deeply, and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
There was a little discomfort when he finally took me, but he was so gentle that I ended up urging him on, begging him to take me deeper, harder.
I cried out in ecstasy, seeing fireworks behind my lids as I reached that pinnacle of pleasure that I'd read about in my romance books. It was everything I ever imagined and more; so it was unsurprising that in the heat of the moment, a declaration of love was shouted.
"I love you."
The oxygen seemed to be sucked out of the room as those words echoed around us. I felt him stiffen, and I cursed my loose lips.
The smile didn't quite reach his eyes when he pulled back and looked down at me. But then he leaned in and stole another kiss, and the desire between us started to drum up again.
His arms were around me all night, and when I woke, it was to his gentle mouth against my sore pussy.
Work called him away before breakfast, so we made plans to meet for lunch before we flew back to London that evening.
By two p.m., I still hadn’t seen him, so I decided to track him down. Our flight wasn't until eight that night, but I wanted to spend time with him before he went back to work full-time.
I found Cesare in the drawing room, reading a newspaper. “Sorry to bother you, but have you seen Alessio?”
Cesare sent me a friendly smile over his paper. “He’s still in the study. Down the hall and the second door on the right.”
I didn't care if he was in the middle of work; I was going to drag him out and force him to have some fun. One thing I found with Alessio: he was a big workaholic and kind of a micromanager. He could delegate, but he had the type of personality where he assumed he could do it better, or if he let go of the reins a bit, then all hell would break loose.
It didn't matter, he was coming out with me for an afternoon swim, maybe we could sneak back off to bed—
“I’ll be in Paris in two days. I’ll send a car to bring you to the hotel. Same room number.”
The breath stalled in my throat as I heard Alessio's deep voice through the crack in the door. He was on the phone, that much was obvious. But with whom? And why was he talking about a hotel room?
“I’m looking forward to seeing you too, Marguerite.”
My stomach dropped, and a strangled sound escaped my throat. Luckily, Alessio hadn't heard me. He was too busy talking in a tone I recognised. Low. Intimate. Flirtatious.
The same voice he used with me.
With a dry mouth and a cramp in my gut, I turned and quietly walked away. Any illusions I had about our marriage turning genuine went out the window.
Fool, fool, fool.
I was a romantic fool to think Alessio would be falling for me. This was still very much a business arrangement for him. He was still planning to keep a mistress on the side whilst maintaining a public persona as a devoted husband. Just like my father, and probably Cesare. Just like most men in my world. Christ, I'd probably made things so uncomfortable for him after I blurted out my love. After three weeks? How embarrassing.
Humiliated and heartbroken, tears filled my eyes, and I allowed them to fall before swiping them away. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I walked to a dark corner of the yard, away from prying eyes.
So what do you want to do, Millie? Do you want to cry, sulk, and go back to how things were between you two? Or do you want to suck it up and realise how lucky you are to have a husband who has been honest with you? Who you have chemistry with and could give you a good life if you let him?
My parents were content, and others like them. I just needed time to adjust to this new part of my life. I had to let go of any romantic, grand ideas of love and be realistic.
