“Bring it on,” I purr, leaning down to kiss him. If one round with Silvo is mind-blowing, I can’t wait to see what he will do with an encore.
As his hands slide up to cup my breasts, kneading insistently, I have a feeling I am in for a long night. But I find I don’t mind one bit. In fact, I hope it never ends. Reality sucks, and I’ll spend as long as possible ignoring it wrapped up in a fantasy with one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever met.
3
SILVO
Last night haunts me as I fumble with the last button of my shirt.
Carmela was an inferno in my bed, all passion and desire, but I know she’ll be pissed as hell when she finds out I am the man she is to marry. I can’t blame her. It was a shitty move on my part, but I wanted her from the moment I saw her across the crowded club.
Grabbing my jacket, I head out, the bright California sun making me squint. Gio has arranged for us to meet at some fancy-ass restaurant downtown.
I merge into traffic, my mind still reeling from the bombshell my father dropped on me last week. Marry a girl from another family? What the fuck is this, the Middle Ages? I’ve been pissed as hell, ready to tell the old man to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.
But then I saw her at the club last night. Carmela Bianchi. Long dark hair, green eyes that sparkle with mischief, and a body that won’t quit. I knew exactly who she was, but she had no clue who I was. I couldn’t resist the temptation to approach her, to see if she is as fiery as she looks.
And damn, she was. I smirk to myself as I picture her reaction when she finds out who I really am. She’ll be furious, no doubt. But that just makes it all the more exciting. I can’t wait to see her passionate anger directed at me.
Maybe this arranged marriage thing won’t be so bad after all. Carmela is a wildcat in bed, and I have a feeling life with her will never be boring. I’ll have to play my cards right, though. Can’t let her know I am actually looking forward to this now.
I pull up to the restaurant and hand my keys to the valet. Time to face the music and officially meet my future bride. I school my features into a mask of indifference, but inside, anticipation hums through my veins.
The restaurant is crowded, the clinking of glasses and cutlery nearly drowning out the smooth jazz playing in the background.
The maître d’ leads me to a private room where Gio is already waiting, a glass of scotch in his hand. He stands when I enter, a grin spreading across his face. “Silvo! Good to see you.”
“Gio,” I greet, shaking his hand firmly before taking a seat across from him, accepting the drink he offers. “So, where’s the lovely Carmela?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.
Gio chuckles. “She’ll be here soon. Probably still getting all dolled up. You know how women are.”
I force a smile, my stomach doing a little flip. Yeah, I know exactly how, and I have a feeling she is going to make my life a living hell once she realizes who I am.
The door opens, and Carmela walks in, looking stunning in a form-fitting red dress. Her eyes widen when she sees me, and I can practically feel the anger radiating off her. Oh yeah, I’m in for it now.
Gio stands up, oblivious to the tension in the room. “Carmela! Come meet your future husband, Silvo De Luca.”
Carmela’s eyes narrow as she stares at me, her jaw clenched tight. I meet her gaze head-on, a slight smirk playing at the corners of my mouth.
I stand up, buttoning my suit jacket as I walk over to her. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet you,” I say, extending my hand.
She glares at me, ignoring my outstretched hand. “Wish I could say the same,” she hisses under her breath so only I can hear.
I chuckle, amused by her sharp-tongued attitude.
Gio claps me on the shoulder, oblivious to the tension between us. “Why don’t we all sit down and enjoy this lovely meal?”
We take our seats, Carmela purposefully choosing the chair furthest from me. The waiter brings out a bottle of expensive red wine and begins pouring it into our glasses.
“So, Silvo,” Gio says, swirling the wine in his glass. “I trust you’ll take good care of my little sister.”
I nod, my eyes never leaving Carmela’s face. “Of course. She’ll want for nothing as my wife.”
Carmela scoffs, taking a large gulp of her wine. “Except maybe happiness and freedom,” she mutters.
I lean forward, my elbows resting on the table. “Now, now, Carmela. Let’s not start off on the wrong foot. I think you’ll find that being married to me has its perks.” I let my gaze travel slowly down her body, appreciating the way the red dress hugs her curves.
She slams her glass down, the wine sloshing over the rim. “I’m not some prize to be won, Silvo. And I certainly don’t appreciate being lied to and manipulated.”
