There it is, a glimpse beneath the veneer. I find myself wanting more. "What was growing up as Marco's daughter like?"
She studies me, clearly trying to discern my angle. "Why do you care?"
"Maybe I want to know who I'm actually marrying."
"You're marrying a Vitale," she says. "Isn't that all that matters?"
"I thought so. Now, I'm not so sure."
She turns away, pretending to take in the blossoms on the tree.
She’s different this time, but I’m not sure if she’s trying to control her tongue or build a wall between us.
Did I say or do something to scare her from being herself?
"Learning about me won't make this arrangement any easier,” she says.
"Perhaps not." I step closer until mere inches separate us. "But it might make it more interesting."
Despite all my attempts to keep her from ensnaring me, I take in her scent.
It’s lovely, matching her dress, both innocent and wanton. I catch myself leaning closer.
"Interesting isn't what either of us signed up for," Isabella murmurs, but she doesn't step back.
My hand moves of its own accord, fingertips brushing a strand of hair from her face. The contact sends electricity through my veins.
"Plans change."
Her pupils dilate.
I trace the line of her jaw, emboldened by the fire I see in her eyes.
"This is a mistake," I say, even as my body betrays me by stepping closer.
"Then stop," she challenges.
My thumb grazes her lower lip, and I watch, transfixed, as she inhales sharply. The urge to taste her mouth is overwhelming.
I've spent my life maintaining perfect control.
I've stared down the barrels of guns without blinking, negotiated with killers without breaking a sweat.
Yet Isabella makes my hands unsteady with the need to possess her.
"Don Dante?" Benito’s voice cuts through the moment.
I step back from Isabella instantly, my hand dropping to my side. The loss of contact feels like being doused in ice water.
"Everything secure?" I ask.
"Kitchen's clear. Staff entrance needs additional coverage during the event." He delivers his report professionally, but there's something knowing in his expression that could get me in trouble.
Adriano would taunt me, but Marco might castrate me for openly lusting for his daughter.
"Ms. Vitale and I were discussing the guest list," I lie smoothly. "We'll need to limit access points."
Isabella turns back, face perfectly composed. "I'll speak with my father about reducing our numbers, if that helps with security concerns."
