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Tess stared at him, trembling between fury and desire. Fury won.
Smiling for the crowd, she ground out through her teeth, “I hope you enjoyed it. Because that’s the last time I’ll ever let you kiss me.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Allow me to present,” the minister cried, “Their Highnesses Prince Stefano and Princess Tess Zacco di Gioreale!”
Holding her hand tightly, Stefano turned and waved at his friends, smiling like a happy bridegroom.
Tess knew a storm was coming. She could feel it building, like low-rolling thunder rattling toward them without mercy.
Her new husband intended to seduce her. To possess her. She couldn’t let him.
It was all she could think about during the wedding reception immediately afterward in the grand ballroom. She felt the hum of her body’s desire and grimly fought it, tooth and nail, until she nearly panted with exhaustion, even as she went through the motions of what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
Tess forced herself to smile until her cheeks ached as she accepted the congratulations of her family and friends. She held poses for endless wedding photographs. She mechanically ate an elegant dinner of salmon, baby potatoes and asparagus in a lemon-butter sauce, followed by wedding cake. She sipped champagne as toasts were offered by strangers.
She forced herself to make polite responses as Stefano introduced her to many fashion industry insiders, including the extremely thin, severely chic Fenella Montfort, whom he introduced as the majority shareholder of the Zacco brand. He’d added with a charming smile, “Though we’ll talk more about that in London, won’t we, Fenella?”
“If we must,” the older woman said coolly.
As Tess’s desire fought against her howling fury, her mind scrambled for a way to escape this marriage. Could she go to Hallie and Cristiano for help? Ask them to assist her in filing for a divorce?
But even if Cristiano Moretti gave her all his man-eating lawyers, she knew that divorce would be an endless, bloody war, with Esme its greatest victim.
Lost in her own churning emotions, Tess barely noticed when, after she tossed the wedding bouquet and Lola accidentally caught it, the blonde turned pale and immediately dropped it to the floor. Lola practically ran out of the reception, pausing only to grab her baby’s stroller as other female guests fought for the bouquet in a flurry of rose petals. Normally Tess would have been alarmed for her friend.
But not today. Today nothing could reach her through her own haze of rage and fear.
Until this.
The tradition of the groom pulling the garter off the bride’s leg was supposed to be a harmless bit of fun, a sly nod to tradition to entertain wedding guests. Now, as Stefano knelt before Tess, who was seated in a chair, her heartbeat went to a thousand as he pushed up her full skirts. His dark eyes burned through hers as he slowly pulled the blue satin garter down her leg. His fingertips brushed against her bare skin.
Time slowed. She forgot her anger and fear. In this moment, all she could see was the hunger in his eyes, pulling her down into the flames.
Though they were surrounded by hundreds of strangers, it was just the two of them. Alone.
When he finally turned away, to toss the garter into the crowd of eager single men, Tess rose abruptly to her feet with a strangled gasp. She muttered, “I have to check on
Esme,” and fled for the head table.
“I’ll come with you,” he replied.
As he followed her back to the table, Tess was careful not to let Stefano touch her, not even her hand.
When they reached the elaborate, flower-decorated table for the wedding party and close family, Tess was dismayed to find Esme sitting happily in her cousin Natalie’s arms. If the baby had been fussy, it would have been an excellent excuse for Tess to take her and go.
But go where? She could hardly return to her aunt and uncle’s apartment tonight. All of Tess and Esme’s meager belongings had been packed in two shabby suitcases and were already upstairs in Stefano’s hotel suite, where she was supposed to sleep tonight. Natalie had volunteered to babysit Esme until they collected her on their way to the airport in the morning.
“I can’t believe you guys did it,” Hallie said, sitting comfortably beside Cristiano at the table. She shook her head. “How on earth did you pull such a big wedding together in one day?”
“Ask Moretti,” Stefano replied smoothly. Reaching for his flute, he took a sip of champagne. “All I did was tell him to arrange it.”
“It wasn’t difficult, Zacco,” Cristiano said. “Not when the words you used were make it happen at any price.” The hotel tycoon sat with one arm draped over his wife’s shoulders, the other holding their adorable baby, Jack. He quirked an eyebrow. “There’s nothing we enjoy more at the Campania than unreasonable requests, as long as money’s no object. Even for a conniving bastard like you, Zacco.”
“Conniving?” Stefano bared his teeth into a smile. “You are the one who tried to cheat, by blocking my car in the race.” He shrugged. “If you wanted to win, you should have gone faster.”
“You could have caused an accident.”
