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“Stop with the charade. Where the fuck is Alma?”
Shit. He knows.
It takes me a moment to settle my racing mind. I smile in spite of the fear that’s settled heavily in my chest. No point lying now.
“She’s gone,” I tell him. “Gone far, far away. Somewhere you’ll never find her. Somewhere you can never hurt her.”
“She left you to take the brunt of my wrath,” he says, and I feel myself sink into the pillow beneath me.
But he doesn’t lunge for me the way I expect him to. Doesn’t even take a step my way.
“Where are you going?” I demand when he moves to the door instead.
He glances at me over his shoulder, his jaw working furiously. “No one deceives me and gets away with it, Carina.” He spits my name like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “Now I need to decide your fate.”
I swallow hard when the door slams behind him, already able to feel the figurative blade slicing through my neck.
8
LUCA
Islam the door to the study so hard, the walls rattle, causing a photograph on one of the bookshelves to fall. It crashes onto the wooden floor, sending shards of glass flying in every direction.
“Fuck!” I leave the mess and throw back the chair behind the desk. Placing my palms on the desktop, I let out a long breath and shut my eyes.
Instantly, the image of the fiery woman cuffed to my bed comes to mind.
Even if I had fallen for the trick, I couldn’t have been faulted for it. Alma and Carina are identical twins, after all. But their physical appearance is where their similarities end.
If she’d remained quiet and kept her gaze averted, I would have had no reason to suspect she was anyone but the wife I bartered for. She knew it too.
Carina knew all too well how to keep her true identity from me. During the ceremony, her voice remained low, her stare downcast.
But when she looked up and I lifted the veil to expose big brown eyes, I felt that tightening in my stomach that only happens with Carina. It’s as unpleasant as a punch in the gut that leaves me breathless and shaky and gasping for air.
That’s what seeded the suspicion of who I’d actually married. When I taunted her while we ate, she managed to maintain her cool, but there was something there. A twitch that told me she was losing her grasp on her temper. However, it wasn’t until our lips met that I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the woman in front of me could not be Alma.
Because Carina is the complete opposite of Alma in every way.
Alma is calm. Carina is hot-tempered.
Alma’s touch is soft. Carina holds on like she’ll never let go.
Alma’s kiss was sweet and patient. Carina’s was…
I touch my lips as I recall the instant heat. The way she seemed to catch fire within my arms. How it spread wild and rapid and consumed me. It destroyed my self-control in a split second.
Then she bit me. She fucking bit me!
Flicking my tongue over my lip, I taste the blood that lingers there. As if it just happened, my body reacts, igniting my core and making my dick hard as hell. The witch bit me, and it fucking turned me on. What kind of bullshit is that?
Now that woman is still burning on my sheets, probably seething because I’ve confined her. Knowing that I have to face that little beastie who has fought me since we were kids rouses something primal inside. A need to subdue. To possess or die trying.
And this is exactly why I wanted Alma. This fucking loss of control is unacceptable. It’s what Uncle Ray warned against, and rightly so.
I need a wife who will obey. One who will stay home, out of the way of my business. One who will help give me the appearance of a settled man but remain quiet and unseen when needed.
Carina is not the woman to give me any of those things. She’s proven that many times over the years. Always meddling, interrupting business meetings, and on several occasions, preventing her father from signing contracts that would have benefited us. Certainly, the money would have helped his freight company. And I have a suspicion her involvement in agreements gone awry went deeper than I know.
