Elio could still see the pulsing shock of desire in Siena’s beautiful eyes from when he’d broken the kiss as vividly as he could taste her sweetness on his tongue.
Through the large gap she’d created between them – he was quite sure she’d moved so close to the edge of the bed that she was in danger of falling out of it – he could feel the heat of her unmoving body. If he had to guess, he’d say her eyes were open and fixed unseeing on the wall.
How long had he spent wondering what she tasted like, he mused darkly.
Elio’s first concrete recollection of realising how spectacularly beautiful she’d become was on her eighteenth birthday, an event he’d observed from afar since her first.
In the early days of his watching the Espositos from afar, he would look at her, at the ringlets of her hair, which in those days had been so pale it was almost white, and feel a tightness in the pit of his stomach to see the innocent child that was Siena. Even with all the dark thoughts of vengeance that had consumed him from the age of nine, a strong part of him had wanted to save Siena from the fate her birth had laid for her. Not just save her from the fate he had planned for all of them, but save her from the monsters that were her family.
As she’d grown older and her curls dropped and her white hair darkened to blonde, he’d watched the innocent child slowly melt away, but it wasn’t until he’d watched her and Gabriella, the woman who was now Tommaso’s wife, leave the Esposito home, all dressed up for a night out celebrating, bodyguards in tow, that he’d seen just how beautiful she’d become. She’d radiated with youth and vitality, and with a knowing sassiness he’d never witnessed before. The angelic toddler had grown into a ravishing young woman right before his eyes.
The fantasies of making her his had come a few years later when he’d learned she’d demanded her father let her be in the inner circle of her family’s shadowed world.
The strength of his fury had been shocking in its intensity.
Somehow, over the many years he’d spent watching the Espositos and learning every last detail about them, Elio had been rooting for the child born the day his mother died. He’d been hoping for a miracle to excuse her from his vengeance. Learning she was every bit as abhorrent as the rest of them had ripped away any sentimentality he’d been holding for her and ripped away the emotional wall he’d unwittingly built to protect her from him, and let his imagination run free.
At least five years spent dreaming of making Siena his. Imagining the feel of her lips and the taste of her mouth. The texture of her skin and her hair. Five years spent watching from afar as she moved deeper and deeper into the shadowed world, slowly but surely emerging as a significant player in her own right. Gaining, in her own right, that most elusive of things needed for success in their world – respect. She could have stepped into her father’s shoes and become a Donatella, and no one would have batted an eyelid.
The times they’d come across each other in Naples’ clubs, Elio had known damn well that she’d been as aware of him as he’d been aware of her. From that very first look, their eyeswould find each other. She was always the first to look away, disdain large on her beautiful face…but her stare would always find his again.
Meeting her in the flesh and not just from the far side of a club for the first time had been an experience like no other. Up close, Siena was a pocket-sized, voluptuous dynamo who crackled with energy. She’d taken her seat at the table of the neutral bar they’d agreed to meet at, and when those soft blue eyes had met his, her loathing of him had been strong enough to touch. If he hadn’t already known he would have his way in marrying her, that look would have assured it.
He’d never doubted that she would acquiesce to his demand of marriage. Never had any doubt she would lie in this bed with him.
And now she was his wife and in his bed and he’d tasted her kisses. Felt the heat of her body. Felt the weighty softness of her breasts crushed against his chest.
By this time tomorrow, the woman he desired and loathed more than he’d ever felt either emotion would be his in every way possible. What made the anticipation taste even sweeter was the knowledge that, for all that Siena despised him, his desire for her was a two-way street.
His poor wife. When she seduced him, she would have to suffer the indignity of actually enjoying it.
He could almost – almost – feel sorry for her.
* * *
Siena crept out of bed and treaded silently to the bathroom. Elio was still deep in sleep. With any luck, he would spend the rest of his hateful life sleeping. She didn’t imagine she would ever sleep deeply again.
There was no lock on the bathroom door, so she hastily stripped her pyjamas off and dived into the shower, washing her hair and body in super quick time.
It was only when she’d brushed her teeth that she realised she’d been so intent on getting in and out of the bathroom before Elio woke that she’d not brought any clothes in to change into.
Making sure the towel was tight around her, she opened the door as quietly as she could and tiptoed out, only to glance at the bed and find Elio wide awake, propped against the headboard, tapping away on his phone.
“Good morning, wife,” he said, his gaze flicking to her. “You’re up early.”
“I’ve got a busy day,” she answered shortly, opening the dressing room door.
“We’re newlyweds. We should be doing nothing but screwing each other’s brains out.”
She made no effort to hide her disgust. “It will be a cold day in hell before that happens.” She wasn’t quick enough at slamming the door shut not to hear his mocking laughter.
The dressing room was spacious. While Siena had been marrying the bastard, the bastard’s staff had unpacked all her clothes, putting everything away in the section of the dressing room the bastard had turned over for her use.
Alone but acutely aware the bastard was only on the other side of the door, she kept her back to the door and hurriedly stepped into the first pair of knickers that came to hand. She’d just yanked the straps of her bra up when the door opened, and he strode in.
“I require privacy,” she said through gritted teeth, and though her back was to him, only just resisted the compulsion to cover her breasts. If Elio learned she’d never been with a man, it would be nothing but another weapon in his arsenal against her.He’d wanted to break her blameless cousin, so God knew what he’d do to Siena if he found out she was just as big a virgin.
“And I require a good morning kiss from my wife.”
