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Everything about Bianca is contradictory and intriguing. As if the woman she was raised to be—Bree—has been overlaid by her Carlotti blood, but Bree refuses to give up and disappear altogether.
She is both Bree and Bianca, all rolled into one, and somehow has carved a path deep into my thoughts without me even realizing when or how.
My cock stirs, as if just thinking about her has recreated her scent and her sounds and her compelling siren call. I shift from one foot to the other, tamping down the ill-timed need.
There will be time for that later. If she behaves. And if not, then my little wife may well find herself on the receiving end of a much-deserved spanking. Though, judging by her responses already, a spanking may well be less of a deterrent than I intend.
I glance at my watch—she is close to running late. I am about to send someone up to check on her when I see movement at the top of the stairs.
She descends slowly in her heels as if she’s a little afraid of falling, and it isn’t until she reaches the bottom step that I realize I haven’t taken a breath since she appeared.
I suck in air through my nose and then expel it, deep and slow. When I am finally back in complete control, I speak. “You look stunning, Bianca. Beautiful.”
Her dress is long and sparkling silver. The fabric hugs her curves, leaving little to the imagination despite the modest cut of the neckline. At least, it is modest at the front. At the rear, which I notice when she turns slightly, the dress exposes most of her back.
Her hair is up for once, secured in a loose style with a diamond-studded clip, and her generous lips are coated in a deep ruby red.
She lifts her gaze to mine, searching my face as if trying to gauge my reaction. Pink suffuses her cheeks, making her even more beautiful, if that is possible. She glances down, then back up at me through her long dark lashes. Faux-innocent looks like that are where I can see both Bree and Bianca.
“Thank you, Rio. You…” She coughs and clears her throat. “You look very handsome, too, in your tux. As always.”
I hold out my hand. She doesn’t move, remaining still almost too long before finally stepping forward and linking our fingers together. I lead her out to the limousine waiting beneath the portico and hand her into the vehicle before climbing in after her. As the driver heads out of the estate toward the waterfront hotel, I keep Bianca’s hand in mine, feeling a rush of something heady I haven’t experienced before.
I stay quiet during the drive, spending most of the journey trying to identify what it is. It is not until we’re pulling up to the hotel entrance that I finally work it out.
Alive. In Bianca’s presence, I feel alive.
And that could be a major problem, because it means I have allowed her to get under my skin.
18
“There’s a thin line between love and hate.”
Simone Elkeles
Bianca
There was a moment,as Rio watched me walk down the stairs at his estate, that I simply couldn’t breathe. The molten heat in his gaze as he stared at me was so unexpected, I almost missed a step.
Luckily, I managed to regain control of my suddenly wobbly legs and reach the bottom without tumbling in a heap at his feet.
He is so handsome, in a dark and brooding way, though I don’t believe he knows or cares about his own looks. The black tuxedo with white shirt and black tie is traditional fare, but on Rio, with his wide shoulders and powerful persona, the look transforms into stunning.
When he held out his hand, I froze. It felt like a pivotal moment in whatever thisthingis between us. He is my kidnapper, my jailer, my husband, and now my lover. And my feelings for him remain a big ball of confusion in my chest.
It felt like a commitment, of sorts, when I stepped forward and linked my hand with his.
Commitment to see the night through on his terms, and to acknowledge the tiny bit of trust he is offering without attempting to run.
The gala is in full swing when we arrive. Hundreds of guests are milling around in the vast Pacific Grand ballroom space, sipping drinks and nibbling on canapes delivered by an army of servers. I had no idea before arriving what the event was for, but looking around at the décor and signage, I realize it must be for a hospital charity.
I start to worry at my bottom lip with my teeth, nerves getting the better of me, but then I remember that I’m wearing lipstick, and I surreptitiously swipe at my teeth with my tongue, hoping they’re now lipstick-free.
How many here are involved in crime? Does the hospital and its board members know where some of their fundraising money likely comes from?
Before I can chase those thoughts any further, Rio slips an arm around my middle and holds me tightly to his side. His fingertips graze the edge of my breast, and I suck in a quick breath at the rippling sensation that fans out from his touch.
He leans down to whisper in my ear, “I like that I can switch you on that fast, Bianca. With only the tips of my fingers. It pleases me.”
