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And it wasn’t just the sex.
It was Vicè.
She had fallen helplessly in love with him. And, incredibly, he felt the same way about her. He must do to have proposed.
Her heart trembled.
She might not have his experience, but she had learned enough about the world to know that a man like Vicè didn’t propose marriage after every sexual encounter.
Given his track record with women, he must have been hoping simply to seduce her. It had probably never crossed his mind that he would fall in love any more than it had hers.
Glancing over at him, she felt her throat tighten.
He was so beautiful, so gorgeously masculine, all muscle and smooth golden skin, and he’d been so generous. Remembering how his body had felt, on hers and in hers, her muscles tensed.
Suddenly she was hot and damp and aching.
It had been so good.
Felt so right.
His weight and the press of his mouth...the rush of his heartbeat.
Could she wake him?
She bit her lip. Would that be greedy? Too forward?
He shifted in his sleep, turning his face into the crook of his arm, and she breathed out unevenly.
She was so, so happy. The only thing that would make it even more perfect was if she could share her happiness with Claudia. But it was too early—and anyway it was her sister’s wedding night.
She frowned. Across the room, she could hear her phone ringing. Slipping out of bed, she picked it up, her heart fluttering with joy. It was Claudia. But of course it was—they had always had the ability to communicate almost telepathically.
She tiptoed out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. ‘Hey, you! I was just—’
‘Oh, Immie, something terrible has happened.’ Claudia’s voice was high and trembling.
Imma’s breath scrabbled inside her chest. ‘Don’t cry, mia cara. What is it? Tell me.’
‘It’s all a lie, Immie. He doesn’t love me.’
Her heart pounded fiercely. ‘Of course he does—’
‘He doesn’t. He didn’t know I was there and I heard him talking on the phone—’
‘That can’t be right...’ The phone felt slippery in Imma’s hand and she clutched it more tightly. ‘Ciro loves you.’
‘No, he doesn’t, Immie. He doesn’t. He just married me to get revenge on Papà. And Vicenzu is planning to do the same to you.’
The room swayed. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. Her lungs felt as though they were full of sand.
It couldn’t be true. Claudia must have made a mistake. Vicè wouldn’t do that—
But as her sister began to cry she knew that he had.
CHAPTER FOUR
ROLLING OVER ONTO his side, Vicè shifted against the pillow, his hand reaching across the bed for—
