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“You wanted to talk to me privately,” she said with clipped words.
I was used to women with power. Allegra hadn’t quite risen to the level of bitch. Not the way Giada could cut a man with a single word. But then Giada was a cunt, and Allegra would be my wife.
She was clearly annoyed. Unless crossed, two minutes in my presence usually wasn’t long enough for a person to develop open hostility for me. Although, I was rarely an agreeable man. Given time, I’m sure I’d deserve her scorn.
She lifted her arm and tucked her hair behind her ears. A thin, gold chain draped her wrist, red stones dripped from her ears, and a tear-shaped diamond nestled against her flesh between her breasts.
“You’ve changed,” I said. Banal first words, but I couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought.
I remembered a gangly girl with big eyes, a timid colt, too long of legs to be elegant. Five years ago, I couldn’t imagine getting between her thighs for the next sixty years. But then I wasn’t a sick fuck that lusted after young girls.
She raised one perfectly arched brow. “It’s been five years.”
Even her voice had taken on a smoky allure, feminine with just enough dark tones to want her panting my name when I had her on my mouth.
Perhaps she’d felt jilted. Her mother should have explained a man wanted a woman in his bed, not a girl. “I could hardly marry you as a child bride.”
“Don’t pacify me with platitudes. I wasn’t a child.”
Not a child, but still giggling with girlfriends and wearing chucks with her school uniform.
She continued. “We both understand that our marriage is business and babies.”
Her thoughts mirrored my own. I’d spoken those same words to Ant. “We have a couple of weeks to get to know each other again.”
“We know enough about each other, Marco. And does it really matter?” She sparked with attitude.
“You’re upset with me?”
“You’ve neglected the business of our marriage for the past two years.”
I lifted a brow. Five years ago, I’d agreed to marry her when she turned eighteen. Apparently, in the past two years, she’d become a bit hostile. “I’m here now.”
“And as for any babies between us,” she said as if I hadn’t spoken at all. “Like most things between us, they’ll need to be negotiated.” She took a step closer.
I inhaled the subtle scent of her perfume. Her breath warmed my neck as she leaned into me.
“I’m sure we can reach an acceptable compromise,” she said. “However, tonight, we should try to maintain appearances. I have no need to beentertainedfor the next two weeks.”
Another statement I’d made to Ant repeated back to me. I breathed deeply. A rush of heat flooded into my cock. “Ah, but I’ve decided I do need entertained.”
She lifted her face. “In the two years I’ve been of age, I’ve found ways of amusing myself. As I’m sure you have. Like you, I fully understand the definition of discretion.”
“In this dress, you clearly understand where your power lays.” Staring into her eyes, my chest tightened. Another flex of my cock had my hands balling into fists.
Her gaze lifted to mine. “Do you believe my power to be between my legs?”
A smile twisted my lips. She was toying with me. Her pulse fluttered in the column of her neck. She closed the space between us. Should anyone stumble upon us, they’d assume we were having an intimate moment. But my future wife was challenging me.
I flared my nostrils, breathing deeply. When she took a step back, I gripped her hip, anchoring her close to me. “Once you’re my wife,” I whispered in her ear, “I intend to find out.”
“Dinner is being served.”
Allegra rested a hand on my chest, either to steady her trembling or to push me away. She glanced at the servant at the entryway to the main room. “Thank you,” she said and dismissed him.
Once we were alone again, she dropped her hand. “I have no desire to rush to the altar.” Her voice lowered. “Nor do I have any intention of climbing into bed with you—for your entertainment.” She spun away, but my grip tightened. “You don’t need to placate me. I won’t insult either of us by pretending there is any interest in a real marriage.”
The mouse has come to challenge a lion. “Too late, topolina.”
