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"Massimo, please don’t." His name on my lips conjures up visions of dark nights, heated glances, sordid whispers and the filthy things he could do to my body, which would shred me from the inside out.
He notches his knuckles under my chin and lifts it, so I have no choice but to meet his gaze. His soul-stirring, thigh-clenching, toe-curling gaze.
A current runs up my body, lighting up each cell under my skin. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My breasts ache, and my chest hurts. Every muscle in my body goes on alert.
"Massimo," I whisper as he lowers his mouth to mine.
Don’t do this. Don’t do this. You let him go, and he’s marrying your sister now.
His breath mingles with mine. He positions his lips so close, our eyelashes tangle, but he still doesn’t kiss me. He stays there, peering deeply into my eyes, into my soul, seeing the secrets I hadn’t had time to reveal to him. The past I was running from. The future I had wanted with so much passion; all gone. In one single second. And now, all I have is broken dreams. And shattered memories. And maybe… maybe this one last kiss.Fuck it.I lean in, when there’s a knock on the door.
We break apart so quickly, I almost fall over. I grab hold of the counter at the last second and stare at him. His chest rises and falls, but otherwise, he seems unaffected by the intrusion. A pulse beats at his temple, the only sign that something just happened. But then, nothing did.
"Nothing happened." I square my shoulders. "Nothing. Happened," I repeat again.
"You trying to convince yourself or me?"
"Both of us." I tuck my elbows into my sides. "Nothing. Happened."
"If you say so."
More banging on the door, then, "Massimo? You guys in there?" a man’s voice calls out. Probably Adrian, come in search of us.
Massimo draws in a breath.
"This—" I wave a hand at the space between us. "This can’t happen again."
His lips twist. Then he spins around and walks to the door and flings it open. "What?" he snaps.
"They’re all waiting."
"Fuck that."
"You know that’s not possible. You committed to this marriage. We’re about to solemnize the engagement. Both families are gathered here. You have to go through with it,fratello."
"Fucking fuck!" Massimo roars.
I turn to take a look at the mirror and wince. The scar stands out like a slash of red against my pale skin. My eyes are always drawn there first, as are everyone else’s, I’m sure. The doctor had suggested plastic surgery, but in a fit of defiance, I'd turned it down. It’s only a scar.
On a man, it would be called dashing. On a woman? It’s something to be pitied, the cause of whispered conversations whenever I walk into a room. Well, fuck that. Itisonly a scar. Soldiers have come out of war with far worse wounds and carried on with their lives.
Surely, I can move on after what happened to me? I’m still in one piece, physically. Mentally, it’s another matter altogether. I have PTSD from the incident when that asshole shot at me, which is to be expected. What I hadn’t realized was how difficult it would be to actually engage myself with life and do the things I once found exciting. I wanted to be an actress, and now, the thought of facing a camera with this face makes me break out in a cold sweat. And the thought of appearing on stage again? I can’t even fathom that.
So instead, here I am, wearing the most outrageous dress in my closet, and acting out my frustrations on my family. Who deserve it, by the way. No question. Still, what was I thinking, flouncing in here, ready to take them on? Or maybe, I wasn’t thinking at all. I simply wanted to be there for my sister. I hadn’t intended to steal her fiancé.
Her fiancé.
He’s going to be her fiancé.
And I almost kissed him again. A trembling grips me. I press my fingers into the edge of the sink. He’s going to marry her. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life watching the two of them together.Fuck!
Footsteps approach and Massimo’s face fills the mirror.
I lock my gaze with his. "Did you know you were going to marry her when we—"
"When we fucked?" He searches my features. "What do you think?"
"I’m asking you, aren’t I?"
