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“Are you expecting retaliation?”
“Uncertain but I can’t take the chance.”
“Special occasion?”
“Let’s just say I’m meeting my future wife.”
“Whew. You work fast, boss. We’ll be there with bells on.”
His attempt at humor didn’t amuse me in the least. The fact I hadn’t achieved full satisfaction wouldn’t bode well for dealing with Giada. I sighed. She’d soon learn that her future husband didn’t take kindly to liars and thieves, and I considered both her and her family to be in both categories.
As I walked away from the warehouse, I thought about what little I knew of the woman, my only memory from a similar day a long time ago. A birthday girl who hadn’t expected her party to be ruined.
She’d been sweet and kind, a low threshold of self-esteem, but I’d sensed there was so much more behind her… lavender eyes. I stopped short, images rushing into my mind from the night before.
I’d known two girls in my life with eyes the color of sterling silver roses. Two.
I took a deep breath, holding it deep inside as I shifted my attention to an entirely different set of images.
I’d been right about theprintsessawith the caustic mouth and killer body.
One taste wasn’t enough.
Now I’d have the opportunity to take all I wanted without reservation.
The day had suddenly gotten brighter after all.
But tonight would be magnificent and by this time tomorrow, the beautiful Giada would be mine.
CHAPTER7
Giada
In sickness and in health until death do us part.
Groaning, I tapped my head against the backseat of the SUV, loathing everything about this moment. My father had insisted that I be driven to the restaurant, although it would be my fiancé’s responsibility to ensure that I arrived back home unharmed. It was a test between the two families.
Somehow, I had a feeling it was one that would fail.
I’d spend the morning locked in my room, acting petulant and angry in order for everyone to leave me alone. I’d gotten angry. I’d cried. Then I’d finally become resigned to the ugliness I was facing, spending my time surfing the internet in search of everything I could learn about the family.
It remained difficult to believe that Sevastian had been my savior.
My limited peace had lasted until Isabella’s grand entrance with several dresses I could borrow. She’d remained quiet, her pale porcelain skin reminiscent of someone facing the death penalty.
Then she’d broken into tears, forcing me to console her. My sister was even more beautiful than she’d been at eighteen, her long hair sweeping past her waistline, her voluptuous body perfect. I still felt like she was the beauty and I was the ugly duckling, but she’d done everything in her power to make certain I looked like a princess.
Printsessa.
I couldn’t get the word or the sound of his voice out of my mind. Maybe that’s why I had a lump the size of a golf ball in my throat. She’d plied me with expensive champagne, assuring me that it would help my nerves. I’d indulged her with a few sips but the ugliness of the fear trickling through my veins wouldn’t be extinguished by plying myself with alcohol. Besides, I wanted a clear head when I made certain he knew I refused to be treated like some trinket.
Isabella had stood behind me at the full-length mirror after I’d finished my makeup, gasping from the sight. At least she was right; the plum dress highlighted my eyes. I wasn’t certain why it mattered. This was a done deal, not a seduction. I closed my eyes, the ache in my temple increasing.
I rolled my hand across my neck, the craziness of my varied thoughts taking me back to my thirteenth birthday. Had he been planning his revenge on my family when he’d placed the necklace around my neck? Maybe I’d been too young to understand his vibes of hatred. Perhaps the clasp on the necklace had been broken for a reason.
Call it fate.
Call it divine intervention.
