Alba didn’t tilt her head back. She stayed looking straight ahead, which showed she had been trained well by her parents, which didn’t fucking please me.
“Look at me,” I said.
At first, I thought she was ignoring me, but then I realized she had to be nervous. In a matter of minutes, if not hours, she’d gone from her boring existence to standing in line about to be offered up. Only, I wasn’t interested in sending her to slaughter.
Staring into her brown eyes, I saw the confusion, as well as the fear. I’d looked into many people’s eyes over the years and seen my fair share of emotion. Of course, there had been pain. There always was when I was torturing them. Begging, pleadingto be let go, or begging for forgiveness. I’ve come to learn a lot about people. The way their loyalties changed with a better offer.
I stared into Alba’s eyes, and I don’t know what the fuck happened, but it was like something shifted. She was terrified of me, of the circumstances. This was the daughter who’d been told all her life that she was a waste of space because she was ugly. This woman wasn’t ugly. Her beauty was deep, pure, and no one could take that away from her.
“What’s your name?” I asked, attempting to put her at ease.
“Alba,” she said. “What’s yours?”
I knew her name, she already knew mine, but it was starting a conversation.
“Odin,” I said. My parents were into some old names. I think mine was old, possibly Greek, but again, I didn’t know what the fuck I was talking about. My dad would say he wanted a badass name for his son, and this was what he found.
None of that mattered. My parents were long dead. Dead far too soon, and I would make sure those that caused their pain would feel it tenfold. My revenge was nowhere near complete.
“It’s nice to meet you, Odin,” Alba said.
“And your thoughts on becoming my wife?”
Her eyes went slightly wider, as if she hadn’t quite realized that was my intention. “Why do you want to marry me?” she asked.
“Because you’re my choice.”
“My sisters are much better choices. They look good, and they’re ready to be wives.”
“You’re my choice.”
Alba frowned. “You’re making the wrong one. Men want a woman they can be proud of on their arm. Not be disappointed in.” She took a step back and glanced down at herself. “I’m not wife material.”
I couldn’t help it, I reached out and grabbed her chin, and I saw the instant bolt of fear travel down her spine. I didn’t want her to fear me, although I knew it was an emotion many responded to. Those that felt fear learned their place freaking quickly. Only, Alba was not going to learn her place. This was not about that.
Stroking a finger across her jawline, I tilted her head back to look at me, and those brown eyes were so expressive. Eyes were where the truth lay. The mouth could lie, as could the body. But the eyes never lied. Every emotion was free to watch. You just had to be willing to listen and see.
“You are who I want.” And then I did something I promised myself I was not going to do. With my grip on her chin, I pulled her in close, but I wasn’t rough with her. I was gentle, or as gentle as I could be when I was in control. I intended to just invade her space, to keep the upper hand, but one look at those plump, inviting lips, and I was a goner. Taking possession of her lips, I kissed her.
It had been a long time since I kissed a woman. I’m no saint, and over the years, I’ve used women for my own pleasure. There were always so many, so willing to line up to satisfy my cock. None of them appealed to me. Just scratching an itch. But I didn’t kiss them.
Alba was the first woman I’d kissed in a long time. One touch, and I knew I was addicted. This was dangerous, especially in enemy territory. I had everything in place in case it all went sour tonight. Only, I had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen. Call it a hunch, but I knew what I was talking about.
Breaking from the kiss, I had made my choice. I let go of Alba and walked to the office door, opening it.
“The marriage happens tonight,” I said.
I already had everything in place, because there was only going to be one person I left the Marini house with.
Alice came in and gasped. “But that is not tradition.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck about you or your traditions?”
“Roberto, do something,” Alice said.
“The marriage is tonight. Don’t mistake this for anything other than the truce it is, otherwise, the consequences will be severe,” I said, looking from Alice to Roberto.
The marriage would happen tonight, but I would follow no tradition. When the time came for me to take my wife’s virginity, I would do it without an audience, and no one but me would ever see the evidence of her innocence.
