My frown deepens.
His gesture is careful, almost tender, and that’s not the same Moretti who told that prisoners don’t get pretty dresses.
Then he reaches for my belt.
Shocking me even more, he ties it tight around my waist.
He remains naked, unconcerned, every line of him on full display in the soft bedroom light.His broad shoulders still carry traces of water from our shower.His scarred chest rises with each measured breath.His ridged abdomen leads down to the heavy, thick length of his cock that hangs between powerful thighs.
Damn him.
Even though I want to be immune, the sight of him steals the air from my lungs and heat curls through me, even though I’m still sore from his unyielding possession..
“Come with me.”He closes his fingers around my wrist and guides me away from the wall.
Confused, but intrigued, I cross the room in silence.
He stops in front of the closet and opens the door.
“Have a look.”
He releases his grip, and I take a step inside.My breath vanishes.
The space is vast, lit with soft recessed lighting that spills over racks and shelves overflowing with everything I could possibly need.
There are rows of tailored pants in soft wools and crisp linens, workout gear in sleek blacks and deep grays folded with military precision, swimsuits in rich jewel tones hanging like silent invitations, sneakers lined neatly below, sandals and delicate heels arranged beside them, hats perched on upper hooks, even scarves and belts coiled with the utmost precision.
Everything appears to be in my size.Ane everything appears to have been chosen with the same ruthless attention he used when he ordered my Sicilian Velvet on that rooftop.
“This is…”
“For you,” he confirms.
“But…” I frown as my thoughts collide on top of each other.“How long are you planning to keep me here?”
He folds his arms and props a shoulder against the doorjamb.“The house is yours—ours— if you want it.”
“Are you serious?”I turn to look at him.
“I bought it in the hopes you’ll like it.”He shrugs.“But you are more than welcome to renovate to your tastes.”
From what I’ve seen, there isn’t a lot I’d change.If I were buying my own place, it would probably look a lot like this.
“My family also has a house in the Hill Country,” he goes on.
I’ve heard that before, so the news comes as no surprise.
If our intel can be believed, it’s a place where there is plenty of privacy, where meetings can be held.In fact, one was recently convened there to confirm Matteo as the family’s don.
“We’re a fair distance from that.I thought you’d appreciate having your own retreat.A place of seclusion to rest and reset.”
He bought me a house, and a closet full of exquisite clothing as a wedding gift?
“What about the vineyards?”
“Currently the grapes are sold to wineries in the area.If we keep the place, I’d like to begin bottling it ourselves.”
The news startles me.“You wouldn’t want a tasting room on the property.”
