Page 18 of His to Wed

His lips purse as if I’ve displeased him.

“Help yourself.” He points to the platter of food on the island that separates us.

I take a piece of cheese and wrap a strip of prosciutto around it before popping it into my mouth. The delicious mix of salty ham and creamy cheese enlivens my taste buds. I hum appreciatively.

“Good?” Alessandro asks.

“Yes, it’s very nice. Thank you, Alessandro.”

Slamming his glass down on the countertop so hard some of the wine spills out, my irate husband folds his arms across his chest and glares at me.

“This ends now, Emilia.”

The sternness in his voice, the hostile body language, takes me by surprise. He’s clearly angry with me, but I don’t know what his problem is. Though things have been strained between us, I felt like we were finally relaxing with one another.

“What’s the matter?”

“I know what you’re up to with theyes Alessandro, no Alessandro, thank you Alessandro.”

Not appreciating the way he raises the pitch of his voice and adds a slight accent to mimic mine, I meet his scowl with one of my own.

“I’m trying to be polite.”

He throws his hands up in the air. “It’s too much.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted a sweet, docile wife.”

Alessandro shakes his head. A strand of thick, dark hair flops down over his right eye. With his chest rising and falling quicker than normal, he appears uncharacteristically ruffled. Have I managed to crack him already?

“No, that’s not what I asked for.”

I think back to the conversation on the plane and try to remember exactly what he said.

“Watch how you dress, who you speak to, and how you speak to them. Total obedience would be ideal.” I spit the words at him. “That’s what you wanted, no?”

He clenches his jaw and places his palms flat on the countertop. He’s barely holding onto his control. I should fear what willhappen if he snaps, but I don’t. Instinct tells me he won’t do me any harm.

“I want a wife who understands how this world works.”

Jumping down from my stool, I ball up my fists and place my hands on my hips.

“Then perhaps you should have married a woman from your world.”

“Me marrying you saved your fucking life. You might want to remember that.”

I shudder as those words hit hard. I’d rather not think about there being someone who wishes to do me harm.

“You have my gratitude for that,” I tell Alessandro and mean it. “But I don’t understand what you want from me.”

“Neither do I.” Alessandro makes his admission so quietly I don’t think he meant for me to hear it. His gaze softens fractionally as he looks at me. “My home cannot be a battleground, Emilia, but I don’t want to be married to an emotionless doll, either.”

As he leans forward, resting his elbows on the countertop, he looks weary. I realize this situation is as new and confusing for him as it is for me. Sure, he’s known about the arrangement our families made for longer than I have, and to an extent he had a choice in the matter, but he hasn’t figured out what this marriage actually means to him.

Despite him intimately exploring my body more than once, we’re strangers. The most connected to him I felt was not in the bedroom when he teased me or in the car when he made me come. It was in Giuseppe’s taverna, when he took me overhis knee. I don’t understand why, since the experience was humiliating and painful, but in those few brief minutes, I felt a certain closeness to Alessandro. At least, I think I did. I need to get that back.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him.

He narrows his eyes suspiciously. “What for?”

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