Ama felt like this was a dream—a fantasy—right up until Enda Gallo thrust into her and she gave a little cry of pain. It faded quickly, and then all she felt was an all-consuming pleasure as he made love to her, kissing her tenderly, his cock driving deeper and deeper into her with every stroke. His hands pinned hers to the table, his eyes locked onto hers as they moved together, her legs wrapped around his hips. Ama felt her orgasm build, and when she came, her back arched up off the table, pressing against him as she gasped and shuddered. Enda kissed her passionately, then raised his head and groaned as he too came, pumping thick, creamy semen deep into her belly. He gave her no time to recover; his mouth found her clit and teased it until she was weeping with desire, and then his cock was inside her again driving her onwards and onwards, toward her climax.
Afterward, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He still had not spoken one word to her. He touched her face once more …and then he was gone.
Ama, her legs still shaking, sat down quickly on the bench, blinking. Did that really just happen? Her body answered—god, yes, yes …
She had just fucked Enda Gallo …or he had fucked her. Ama gave a disbelieving laugh. She sat there for a further five minutes, then made her way slowly back inside the house. Most of the guests had gone now and Christina was looking for her.
“Have to go, sweets, before I drink this place dry.” She hugged Amalia, then studied her. “Hey, are you okay? You look weird.”
Ama blinked, then tried to smile. “Just tired, babe. Look, promise me we’ll get together for lunch on Monday.”
“Promise.”
She went back into the main ballroom, her heart thumping at the thought of seeing Enda in there. But he was nowhere to be seen. Jackson came over to her. “Our guests have left—would have been nice of you to say goodbye. I hope you’ll be more sociable in the future.”
“Fine.” She didn’t want to argue. “Goodnight, Jackson.”
He caught her arm. “Where are you going?”
“To bed.”
“To our bed.”
Ama sighed. He would never stop trying, would he? “No, Jackson. To my room. I told you once, and I meant it. I will never, ever have sex with you. Find one of your many admirers—I assume you’ve worked your way through most of them anyway. I’m sure one of them will be up for it.”
Jackson stared at her, his face angry, then stepped closer to her. “You will submit to me one day, little girl, or I’ll break you. I swear I will.”
Ama wasn’t impressed. “Go away, little boy. You don’t scare me.”
She turned and walked out of the room, running lightly up the huge staircase, hoping he wouldn’t follow her. Selima was in her room, packing her wedding dress away. “Dad’s just bringing the car around.” Selima had tears in her eyes as she hugged her sister. “I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me, Ama. Never. I just pray you find some happiness.”
Ama held her sister, feeling the tears threatening again. “Go along now. Dad’s probably waiting. I’ll see you soon.”
Selima nodded. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Alone, she locked the door and put a chair up against it. She didn’t trust Jackson not to have a spare key. There was no way she was letting him in. Sure, enough, a half hour later, as she walked out of the shower, toweling her long hair dry, the door handle rattled. She smirked to herself as she heard him curse, but he soon gave up.
Amalie sat down on the bed. She was married …and had lost her virginity all in one day. And to two different men. What the hell was I thinking?
She already knew she regretted one of those things …and it wasn’t anything to do with Enda Gallo.
Olivier Gallo drove into town and was at the restaurant fifteen minutes before his half-brother arrived. He stood to hug Enda, who clapped him on the back. “Hey, brother, good to see you.”
“You too.” They sat, and Olivier beckoned the waiter over. “Could we have the drinks menu please?”
“No need,” Enda said in his deep, accented tones, “Red. Third down from the top.”
Both brothers laughed, and the waiter nodded. He knew these Gallo brothers—they had been coming to this restaurant for a few years now and were good tippers. They treated him with respect, unlike their asshole brother Jackson.
The restaurant itself was mid-range and less flashy than the places Jackson liked. It had a frontage, which opened out onto a jetty overlooking of the Bay. They sat outside so Enda could smoke. Olivier grinned at him as he lit up a cigarette. “You ever going to give up?”
Enda squinted through the smoke. “Probably not.”
Olivier grinned. “Fair enough. How have you been? I didn’t get to see you much at the wedding.”
“As I recall, you were doing your best man thing, trying to keep the toddler under control.”
Olivier rolled his eyes. “Mostly for Amalia’s benefit. Poor kid looked shell-shocked.”
“She’s no kid.”
Olivier’s eyes opened wide. “You don’t like her?”
“I didn’t say that. I just meant, she’s a grown woman. She knew what she was getting into.”
Olivier chewed his lip for a moment. “She did it for her sister, Enda.”
Enda nodded. “I’m just saying …it sucks for her.”
“Yep.”
They paused while the waiter brought their wine and they ordered their food. Enda sat back and took a slug of red wine. “She’s beautiful.”
“Who?”
Enda rolled his eyes. “Our brother’s new wife.”
“Of course. Sorry. Yes, she is. Also, brilliant, funny, and smart.”
Enda nodded. “She also seems to have …what is the word …empathy?” He pronounced it ‘em-patty.’
“Like I said, she’s a sweetheart.”
“You like her?” Enda grinned at Olivier’s eye-roll.
“As my sister, yes.” Olivier chuckled. “If it’s any of your business, I’m seeing someone.”
“Oh, yes? Wait, please tell me it’s not that blonde from the reality show?”
Olivier laughed. “No. That was …jeez, what was I thinking? Anyway, no. She’s a journalist from San Diego. Helena. Early days, but yeah, she’s cool.”
Enda looked skeptical. “A journalist?”
Olivier grinned. “Not that kind. She’s focused on business and financial stuff. I like her.” Their food arrived then—steamed salmon for Olivier, rare, bloody steak and garlic butter for Enda. Olivier shook his head, laughing. “Dude, you are a walking heart attack.”
Enda grinned, his smile lighting up his intense features. “Hedonism is my default position.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Olivier cleared his throat. “So, what did you think?”
“Of what?”
“Amalia.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“You said that.”
Enda shrugged. “I don’t know her, Olly. I barely spoke to her. If you tell me she is a good person, I believe you.”
Olivier speared some asparagus with his fork. “Enda …I’m worried. Lately, Jackson has been more …out of control than normal. This deal he made with Amalia’s father …you know he engineered it so that Ama was practically forced into this marriage.”
“Ama, is it now?” Enda teased his older half-brother, but then his smile faded. “That sounds just like Jackson, though. He always got what he wanted. Didn’t matter how.”
Olivier sighed. “I know, but this is a person we’re talking about. If and when she does something he doesn’t like …Enda, he has addictions. Cocaine, for one. And this thing with Ama …he’s obsessed with her. I’m worried.”
Enda looked away from his brother’s gaze. “What can I do?”
“Stick around ‘Frisco for a few months. Help me keep Jackson on a steady keel. See how the land lies.”
Enda closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Olivier could see his internal strugg
le. Enda hated Jackson with the fury of a thousand suns, but he didn’t owe Amalia Rai anything. He didn’t even know her.
“I’m thinking about dad in this too. If Jackson were to do something rash or worse, Dad wouldn’t survive it. I’m not saying you owe him anything either, but for me, maybe.” Olivier’s voice was low and Enda nodded.
“I will stay. I can oversee the business from here. We have been thinking of opening an office here …maybe it’s time. I’ll talk to Raffaelo in the morning.”
Jackson Gallo was frustrated. It had been a month since the wedding and Ama had barely spoken to him, let alone touched him. She attended functions with him and behaved impeccably, but he couldn’t bust through those walls of hers. Her bedroom door remained locked and barred …if it wasn't for the fact that his father slept in the same house, and that their staff also were there at night, he would have busted down that door and taken her.
But he knew she would leave him if he forced himself on her. So, to satisfy his aching balls, he had started fucking other women almost immediately after the wedding. If Ama guessed, she didn’t seem to care, and it drove him mad.
It had been particularly galling that, since the wedding, Gajendra Rai’s business had flourished, being linked to the Gallo name. And Amalia’s sister, Selima, had settled into her new life as a student in Los Angeles. It seemed to Jackson that Amalia had reaped the rewards of their union, while he still hadn’t.
He sat in his office now and decided to call her. She picked up the phone eventually, sounding harassed. “What do you want, Jackson?”
He rankled. “Well, for one, I’d like you to speak to me with respect.”
Amalia sighed. “I’m busy, Jackson, What do you want?” There was no noticeable shift in her tone.
“I would like to take you out to dinner tonight.”
“Fine.”
“Be ready at eight.”
“Fine.” The phone clicked in his ear. So much for sweet nothings. Jackson put his phone down and smiled to himself. He’d actually arranged to have dinner with his brothers that night, but he couldn’t resist bringing Ama and showing her off to them. Look at my glorious wife. Look how beautiful she is.
Suddenly an idea struck him and he laughed to himself. Flicking through his contacts on his phone, he made the call, smiling to himself.
Ama saw Enda as soon as they entered the restaurant and knew Jackson had set this up on purpose. “I didn’t know we were having dinner with your brothers.”
Jackson smiled. “Family time.”
Ugh. More like bragging time. She was being trotted out like a prize horse. But at the moment, she could think of nothing else, but Enda Gallo’s eyes on her. God, she’d forgotten just how gloriously good looking he was. Olivier stood and kissed her cheek, and then she was in front of Enda. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Bella.”
That voice—deep, mellifluous, accented—was dripping with sex. She wondered if he could see the blatant longing in her eyes.
She was mostly silent through dinner, ignoring Jackson as much as she could, to Enda and Olivier’s obvious amusement. Olivier distracted them all with jokes, and Enda, too, she found, was fun to be around. He and Olivier were obviously close, and both busted Jackson’s chops, which was fine by her. For once, she saw Jackson as he really was—the baby of the family. Despite his bragging, he was still just a little kid. Olivier and Enda were men. She couldn’t help, but compare them. Jackson, his dark blonde hair slicked back; Oliver, neatly trimmed beard and dark brown eyes, so beautifully dressed. Then there was Enda—his looks had a wildness to them, a devil-may-care look. He oozed easy sex appeal. God, I want you, Ama thought, then pushed the thought away. He was off-limits. At least, now he was.
“What are you smiling at?” Jackson demanded of her suddenly, and Ama jumped slightly. Jackson’s arm had been along the back of her chair, possessively, and her back ached from sitting forward to avoid him touching her.
“Just marveling at how different you are from your brothers,” she said coolly. You don’t snap at me like that. Ever, her eyes said, and Jackson backed off. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go freshen up.”
In the bathroom, she splashed some water on her face and tried to stop thinking about Enda. When she finally got up her courage to go back to the table, she exited the bathroom. She gave a little cry of surprise as two hands gripped her waist from behind and pulled her back into the dark alcove. She turned and saw Enda smiling down at her. “Hello again.”
His voice sent thrills through her body, and when he kissed her, she couldn’t help, but give a little moan of desire. They were hidden from sight, and when Enda slid his hands under her skirt, Amalia’s body reacted, curving into his. “I want you so badly,” she whispered, and Enda grinned, his lips rough against hers.
“If it wouldn’t get us arrested, cara mia, I would fuck you right here. Sadly, I think my brother’s suspicions would be aroused.”
“I’m not sleeping with him. I don’t know why it’s important to me that you know that, but it is.”
Enda stroked her cheek. “I know, Bella. Listen …I must see you again. Can I come to your office?”
She nodded and gave him the address. “I know this is wrong, but …”
His lips silenced hers and she could feel his erection through his pants. God, she wanted him so badly. Her skin felt like it was on fire.
She went back to the table a few moments before Enda, but couldn’t help but feel that their lust for each other was obvious. Jackson seemed not to notice, though, and when Enda returned, there was nothing in Jackson or Olivier’s glances that gave anything away.
Ama felt sick with excitement. He wanted her …what the hell was she supposed to do? She barely knew him, but she knew, without a doubt, that she was falling for Enda Gallo.
As Olivier and Amalia walked ahead of them, Jackson held Enda back with a touch of a hand. He smiled without humor at his half-brother. “I hope we will see you at the house more often.”
Enda looked askance. “That’s new. Since when?”
Jackson’s expression was mocking. “Now I’m happily married; I just want us to be family. And when my children are born …well …” He smiled smugly, and Enda wanted to pound his face in.
“Fine.” He turned and walked away, catching up with Olivier and Ama. He had no time for Jackson’s games. Since that farce of a wedding, all he could think about was Ama. When he had seen her walking down that aisle, apparently terrified, his heart had started to beat quicker, and when their eyes had met, a thrill of desire had run through him. Later, in the garden, he hadn’t been able to help himself when he saw her so sad and so lovely in that slip of a dress, her long hair tumbling around her shoulders. No one that beautiful should be that unhappy. He hadn’t meant to kiss her, but when she’d looked up at him, her lovely eyes so troubled, her dusky skin glowing in the low light, her lips so red and plump, it was the most natural thing in the world to kiss her.
As soon as their lips had touched, he had known he was lost. Making love with her …yes, he should feel guilty, and he would do if it had been any other man’s wife. Not that the guilt had stopped him before. But something about Ama was different. He knew it had been an arranged marriage and that she was an unwilling participant in it. And, god, he had wanted her so badly …
He and Olivier said goodbye to Ama and Jackson as they got into their car. Ama met his gaze and smiled slightly. Her eyes told him everything he wanted to know. As they drove away, Olivier sighed. “I hope he treats her right.”
“God help him if he doesn’t,” Enda said darkly.
Olivier studied him. “You don’t think …I mean, the thing with Penelope was years ago. He learned his lesson, right?”
Enda looked at his brother. “God, Olivier, I really hope so.”
The package was waiting for Ama on her desk when she arrived at work the following Monday. Her assistant, Lena, greeted her with a smile “Jeez, Ama, was that the honeymoon? That was quick.”
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Ama tried to smile. “We’ve postponed it for a while, because of work. It’s no problem, really.” Lena didn’t need to know Ama had refused to go on honeymoon with Jackson. She had no doubt that if she had been alone with him …god, she couldn’t bear to consider what might happen.
She went into her office and dumped her purse on the desk, glancing at the parcel. The label was handwritten—just her name in a beautiful cursive scrawl. “When did this come?”
Lena grinned. “This morning. Girl, you should have seen the delivery guy. Gorgeous. Italian, I think.”
She went back out to her desk, not realizing the frenzied excitement that had started in her boss. Ama touched the label, running her finger over her name. Picking it up, she opened the parcel. A burner phone. She switched it on. Only one number was programmed into it, under the name ‘He.' Ama smiled. She was really going to do this, wasn’t she? Have an affair …
She thought about Jackson trying once again to get into her bedroom last night and her teeth clenched. Yes. She was going to do this. Hell, yes.
She closed her office door quietly and pressed the dial button. Her heart was beating against her ribs and adrenaline spiked in her when she heard his voice. “Cara mia …”
“Hey there …He.” She chuckled, hearing him laugh.
“I thought that was the safest name I could come up with. How are you today?”
“Better now that I’ve heard your voice,” she said softly, “When can I see you?”
“Can you be free for lunch?”
“I can.” God, she felt like a love-struck teenager.
Enda laughed. “Good. Write this address down.” He gave her an address in Russian Hill. “Take a cab. I’ll meet you there.”
At noon, a very nervous, but excited Ama was in a cab, being driven to Russian Hill. When she got there, Enda was waiting outside an apartment building. He took her hand and led her inside. “I rented an apartment. I thought it would be safer.”
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