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Marianne’s lips thin, going white at the edges, and I can see her weighing her options. She doesn’t want to acquiesce, that much is clear, but I can tell she very much wants this marriage to happen.
“Fine. Fifteen minutes.” Her voice is clear and taut, and she turns sharply on her heel, exiting the room with another glowering look at her daughter. Amalie is trembling with what looks like barely contained rage, and the moment Marianne is gone, she turns the full force of her glare on me.
“What the hell is going on?” she hisses, and I shrug, standing up and walking towards the unlit fireplace with my hands shoved in my pockets.
“You tell me. Did you know about this when you hit on me in Ibiza? Was this some way of entrapping me into this marriage regardless?” I frown, turning to face her. “Was your cardreallyfrozen because your mother was pissed, or was that all some scheme to get me to come to your rescue and try to get me to fall for you, so I’d be even more inclined to agree—”
“You’re insane if you think any of that is true.” Amalie’s voice is as sharp and cold as her mother’s. “One, I didn’t even know your fucking last name—Istilldon’t, so I don’t know how in the hell I would have been able to follow you to that club toentrapyou. And I certainly didn’t know you’d be coming to that restaurant. I don’t know whether to hate you even more for thinking I’m capable of all of that or be flattered that you really think I’m that brilliantly conniving, but this is all just a really, really fucked up coincidence, and—”’
She trails off, running out of breath, and I can’t take my eyes off of her. Even furious, standing there practically spitting angrily as she shouts at me, she’s quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
“I had no idea about any of this,” she breathes, her chest heaving as she crosses her arms over her breasts. “This is all just as much a shock to me as it is to you. Except now you’ve told my mother something that I very much planned for hernotto know—”
“Oh? Was I just supposed to keep silent? Take the ruined bride being offered to me?” I take a step towards her, and another, unable to stop myself even though I know I shouldn’t. I feel drawn to her, that feeling like a moth to a flame all over again, and I want to grab her shoulders and shake her at the same moment that I want to kiss her until she’s dizzy.
The moment I say it, I see her eyes go wide with rage. Her teeth clench, and I see that tremor of fury run through her again. “If I’mruined,” she hisses, “it’s because of you. Becauseyoufucked me.”
“You’re trying to tell me you were a virgin?” I step closer still, until I’m nearly within touching distance. She backs up, and I follow, as if she’s tugging me towards her, with her, without meaning to. “Nowyou want to tell me that? Because you didn’t behave like one.”
“Oh?” Her upper lip curls, and she takes another step back. “How does a virgin behave, David? Please, enlighten me as to what it was I was supposed to do. Cry? Beg? Iwantedto lose it. That doesn’t mean that I wasn’t a virgin, just because I didn’t want to make a big deal about it.”
The last words come out on a breath as her back hits the wall, and she lets out a small gasp as I close the distance between us. “David—”
“You were eager.” I reach up, brushing a lock of her auburn hair out of her face, almost gently. “You wanted me.Youapproachedmein a club, with all those other girls around me. You were confident, not shy. And the way you danced on me—” My hand drops to her hip, squeezing lightly. “You knew what you were doing.”
“I knew how to dance, so I must be a slut?” Amalie laughs, tossing her head. “I go out dancing all the time with Claire and her friends, here in Chicago. I’ve danced with plenty of guys. That doesn’t mean I opened my legs for them. You can argue with me all you want, David, but you were my first. I just didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
“So either you lied to me then, or you’re lying to me now.”
“I wanted to pick who my first was.” Amalie tips her chin up, glaring up at me defiantly. “I didn’t think it made all that much of a difference if you knew or not. Are you telling me you would have cared?”
“I wouldn’t have done it,” I tell her bluntly, and Iwantto believe that I’m telling the truth. That knowing would have meant that Iwouldn’thave fucked her, that I wouldn’t have used her predicament as a way to keep her in my bed, at my beck and call for my pleasure for another week. But even as I look down at her, I’m not sure that it’s true.
“Oh?” Amalie’s voice drops a little, soft and sultry. “Are yousureyou wouldn’t have, David? Are yousureyou wouldn’t have liked the idea of having a virgin in your bed, all eager for you toruinher?”
Something about the way she breathes that last word makes something snap inside of me. I grab her before I can stop myself, one hand on her waist and the other gripping her chin with my fingers as I surge against her, pinning her to the wall as my mouth comes crashing down onto hers.
She’s as soft and sweet as I remember, even spiced with anger. Her mouth is hot, her lips instantly yielding under mine, as if she wants this as badly as I do. I feel the rest of her body stiffen under my touch, and for one moment, I think she might try to knee me in the balls—but then her hands grip the front of my shirt, pulling me closer. Her tongue slides into my mouth as my cock stiffens, and as I press it against her inner thigh, I feel certain that two things are absolutely true.
There’s no way this girl was a virgin a month and a half ago—and I don’t think I care.
All I can think, as she kisses me, arching her body against mine and bringing back a flood of memories involving her soft bare flesh and her heat wrapped around me, is that I’ll marry her if that’s what it takes to fuck her again.
Even if she hates me. Even if she drives me insane.
Even if being married to one another means we might kill each other.
“You weren’t a virgin,” I whisper against her mouth, letting go of her chin and sliding my hand into her hair. “You weren’t scared. A virgin would have been shy and afraid. Especially ofthis.” I reach for one of her hands, prying it away from my shirt and pressing it between us, against my throbbing cock. “You were so fucking tight, but—”
“Believe whatever you want.” Amalie’s gaze is defiant, glaring up at me with her lips a breath away from mine. “I’m telling the truth.”
Her voice falters a little as she says it, and it bolsters my doubt. But even so, I remember those spots of blood, and I wonder if she’s telling the truth.
I truly don’t think that I care.
If we’re married, I’ll have a lifetime to pry the truth out of her. And one way or another, I’ll make her pay for it if she lied to me—about any of it at all.
Her mother wants this marriage, and she’ll have it. If I find out that she and Amalie entrapped me or that Amalie wasn’t a virgin, I’ll use it to my advantage. I’ve always been good at that. The Leone family needs me more than I need them.
