Sweet Temptation

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Sweet Temptation Page 8

by Cora Reilly


  I flinched. Father never hit me. Mother did twice. It wasn’t firsthand experience that had me wince, but I’d seen men hit women and children. My uncles, in particular, were of the violent sort. It happened often in our circles.

  Cassio frowned and his fingers gently closed around my elbow. I regarded him curiously. “That flinch was unnecessary, and I don’t want it to happen again, all right?”

  “You don’t want me to react that way or I won’t have reason to react that way?”

  A ghost of a smile crossed Cassio’s face before the stern look was back. He leaned down so we were at eye level. “You won’t ever have reason to.”

  “You sure?” I said it more to annoy him than anything else, but my words were softened by a tiny smile.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good.”

  His expression conveyed confusion. Was I that much of an enigma to him? “Now put the dog down.”

  My smile widened. “No.”

  He looked incredulous. Releasing my elbow, he cupped my chin between his thumb and forefinger and brought our faces even closer. This time I didn’t flinch, and I could see that it pleased him. “I gave you an order. I’m your husband and my word is law.”

  “I know. And if you insist that the dog stays outside, I will too.”

  Cassio narrowed his eyes. His breath held the hint of the spicy liquor, and I felt the crazy urge to taste it on his lips. “Do you really think I believe you’ll spend the night in the cold for a dog?”

  I stared back stubbornly.

  He barked out a laugh. “I think you might actually do it. Your parents didn’t mention your stubborn streak when they bartered you away.”

  “They were too eager marrying me off to the cruelest Underboss of the Famiglia,” I muttered.

  “The cruelest Underboss, hmm? That’s what they call me?”

  “They did, and other people do too.”

  “Why would your parents tell you something like that about your future husband?”

  “To get me in line. My mother worried you might beat me to death if I’m insolent.”

  Something on Cassio’s face shifted, a shadow of the past. “They shouldn’t have scared you before our wedding.”

  “Is it a lie, then?” I whispered. For some reason his mouth appeared even closer than before.

  “There’s no scale to judge someone’s cruelness.”

  “That means it’s the truth.” He didn’t contradict me. I couldn’t read the look on his face. Acting on impulse, I leaned forward and brushed my lips across his then darted my tongue out, tasting the liquor clinging to his mouth. Smoky and sweet.

  Cassio stiffened, but the look on his face became even more intense than before. “What was that?” His voice was a low rasp that I could feel everywhere.

  “A kiss?” I didn’t have much experience, but I doubted anyone could mess up a simple kiss.

  “Are you trying to influence me with your body?”

  My eyes grew wide. “No. I could smell the liquor on your breath, and I was curious how it tastes.”

  Cassio chuckled. “You are a strange girl.” His mouth twisted. “Woman.”

  He looked down at the dog in my arms. It was snuggled against me peacefully. Without a word, Cassio turned around and returned to his glass of whisky on the table. I stepped inside and closed the door. Stroking the dog, I followed my husband.

  “What’s its name?”

  “Loulou,” Cassio said, a strange note to his voice. I stopped beside him.

  “Can I have a sip of your whisky?”

  Cassio’s eyes bored into me. “You’ve never had whisky before?”

  “No. My father didn’t allow me to drink alcohol. I had my first glass at our wedding.”

  “Many firsts for one day.” A small shiver passed down my spine at the contemplative growl. “You aren’t old enough for hard liquor.”

  My lips parted in indignation. Was he serious?

  He downed the remains of his drink, and before I could say something snarky, he cupped the back of my head and pressed his lips to mine. Gently at first, his eyes searching mine. I grasped his bicep and stood on my tiptoes—his permission. Then he really kissed me, his tongue stroking mine, discovering my mouth. The taste of whisky swirled in my mouth, intoxicating—not as much as the kiss though. God, his kiss set me aflame.

  When he pulled back, I was dazed. Only Loulou squirming in my other arm brought me back to reality.

  Cassio glanced over my head. “What is it, Sybil?”

  I whirled around. Sybil hovered in the doorway, wringing her hands and looking anywhere but at me. She must have caught us kissing, and even though we hadn’t done anything indecent or forbidden, considering that we were married, acute embarrassment washed over me.

  “The children are asleep, and I cleaned up. Is there anything else you need from me?”

  “No, you can go.”

  His clipped voice rubbed me the wrong way. Even if Sybil was working for him, that didn’t mean he had to sound like a drill sergeant. Sybil nodded and with a fleeting smile at me, she left.

  “Can I see your children?”

  Cassio’s brows furrowed. “The dog stays here, and we have to be quiet. I don’t want them to wake.”

  “Where should I put Loulou?”

  “We lock it in a room because the thing can’t behave itself.”

  I pressed my lips together, following Cassio as he led me into the lobby and motioned at a door.

  I pushed it open and my heart clenched. It must have been a storage room before, judging by the small window and shelves lining the walls. A torn apart basket, a litter box, and two empty bowls were the only indication that a dog lived here. There were no toys. I picked up one of the bowls and handed it to Cassio. “Can you fill it with water?”

  Cassio regarded the bowl, then me.

  “Please.” Loulou’s living arrangements had to change, and they would change, but today was only my first day. I’d have to be clever about my battle against my husband. He took the bowl and disappeared. I headed over to the torn apart basket and set Loulou down. She curled into herself. She must have let out her frustration on her basket if its destroyed state was an indication. No wonder considering she’d probably spent most of her days alone in this room. What had happened in this house? I stroked her head when Cassio walked back in with the water bowl. He set it down, and the moment he stepped back, Loulou trotted over to it and drank.

  I straightened. I couldn’t hold back anymore. “How long has she been locked inside this room?”

  Cassio’s expression tightened. “The dog’s out of control. I won’t have it shit and pee everywhere, not to mention snap at my children and everyone else.”

  “How can you expect Loulou to behave if nobody takes care of her? She isn’t a machine, she’s a living being, and from what I see she hasn’t been treated the way she was supposed to. If you have an animal, you have to take care of it and not treat it like a thing you can put in a corner and take out when you feel like it.”

  “I didn’t want the dog! Gaia did, and then I was left to deal with it like everything else.” He snapped his mouth shut as if he’d said more than he wanted, breathing harshly. Loulou hid in her basket at his outburst.

  I stood my ground. “Then why didn’t you give Loulou to people who want her?” I kept my voice calm. Meeting Cassio’s anger with my own seemed like an unwise choice.

  Cassio shook his head. “Let’s go upstairs. I have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Why?” I touched his forearm.

  “Because Daniele lost his mother. He doesn’t need to lose this too!”

  “I thought Loulou snaps at him.”

  “She does,” Cassio said. “And she’s not allowed near him.”

  “Then why—”

  “Enough.” Cassio’s voice could have cut steel. He nodded toward the door. I walked out of the small room. Cassio closed it, locking Loulou in once more.

  “Does Sybil walk her?”
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  Cassio gritted his teeth as he led me up the stairs. “No. It’s got that cat box in the room.”

  “It needs to be walked. It’s not a cat.”

  Cassio sent me a look that made it clear he expected me to shut up right this moment.

  “I’ll walk it, then. You have a leash, right?”

  He stopped on the second-floor landing, a vein in his temple throbbing. “You don’t have time to walk the dog. You’ve got my kids to take care of.”

  His kids. He made it sound like I was his nanny—with the added bonus of sleeping with him.

  “Kids need fresh air too.”

  He gave me a condescending look as if I was a delusional child in need of reprimand. He didn’t think I’d be able to handle his children, much less a dog on top of it.

  Maybe he was right, but one of us had to try. I had a feeling that no matter how in control of his soldiers, his city, and his life Cassio seemed, his own home and his family had slipped out of his hands. He was incapable of fixing it; maybe he’d even given up hope that it could be fixed. And now here I was, without the hint of knowledge about dogs or kids that went beyond what I’d read in books, supposed to deal with all this.

  In the months since our engagement, I’d dreaded our wedding night. Now it seemed naïve that the simple act of sex had held so much trepidation for me. Sharing a bed with Cassio was the least of my battles. Fixing this family, making it somehow into my family, that was the most daunting challenge I could imagine.

  Looking up into Cassio’s exhausted and wary eyes, I promised myself to master it.

  Annoyance hummed under my skin. Giulia peered up at me calmly, thinking she knew everything. It was the advantage of youth—believing you knew how the world ran and convinced you could shape it to your ideals. She’d soon realize that ideals were just teenage foolishness.

  “Come now,” I gritted out, not wanting to release the frustration of the last few months on her. Ultimately, it was my fault for allowing this marriage, for thinking an eighteen-year-old girl could be a wife and mother. The idea that Giulia could become Gaia 2.0 turned my stomach over.

  Giulia opened her mouth as if to say more, but I sent her a warning look. She’d need to learn when to shut up. She pursed her lips but remained quiet.

  I led her to Daniele’s room first. I opened the door but didn’t turn the lights on. Daniele’s bed was empty.

  “Where is he?” Giulia whispered, worried, as she crossed the room toward the bed.

  My heart clenched. Turning on my heel, I walked out and strode down the corridor. Steps followed me, and Giulia appeared at my side.

  “Cassio?”

  I didn’t say anything—couldn’t.

  The door to the last room on the left was ajar as I knew it would be. I pushed it open. The light spilling in illuminated Daniele’s small form on the huge king-sized bed. He was curled into himself on top of the comforter, half covered by his own blanket. I took a deep breath, hating the feeling of guilt wilting my insides. Anger toward Gaia was an emotion I could handle better.

  I could feel Giulia’s eyes on me, the myriad of questions she wanted to ask. In the silence of the room even her unspoken words frustrated me. She took a few hesitant steps toward Daniele. My hand shot out, clamping down on her upper arm with more force than intended. She winced, looking up at me in a wounded way that had nothing to do with my hard grip. I released her at once then walked past her toward the bed. For a moment, I watched my son’s tear-stained face. He was only two, three in a month, an age when tears were still okay. Soon, they wouldn’t be anymore.

  I bent down and carefully picked him up, trying not to wake him. Whenever I did, he’d squirm away and start crying again. He didn’t wake, however. His tiny head leaned against my chest as I cradled him against my body, the blanket swaddling him.

  Giulia followed me without a word as I walked out of the bedroom and carried Daniele back to his own room. I put him down on his bed, covered him, then stroked his hair lightly. Feeling Giulia watching me from the doorway, I straightened and headed to her. She stepped back so I could close the door.

  Giulia scanned my face, her expression filled with compassion. “Does he always come to your bedroom at night?”

  “It’s not mine,” I pressed out. “It’s Gaia’s. I sleep in the master bedroom.”

  “Oh.” Confusion showed on Giulia’s face. “You didn’t share a bedroom with your late wife?”

  I gritted my teeth, trying to stifle my anger and worse, that heavy feeling of sadness. “No.” I headed to Simona’s room. Giulia hurried after me. She couldn’t let it drop. She was too curious. “Because you don’t want to share a bedroom?”

  I glared. “No. Because Gaia didn’t want to share a bed with me. Now stop the questions.” My voice was harsh, threatening—a tone meant for soldiers that displeased me, definitely not for my wife.

  I turned away from Giulia’s hurt expression. My grip on the handle was crushing as I shoved open the door. Not waiting for Giulia, I crossed the room and headed toward the crib. Simona slept soundly. Some of the darkness in my chest lifted, never all of it though. I couldn’t even remember a time when my thoughts hadn’t been dominated by darkness. I stroked my daughter’s chubby cheek with my thumb then leaned down and kissed her forehead. I was on the way out when Giulia spoke up.

  “What about the baby monitor?”

  I froze. She was right. Tonight was the first time Sybil or one of the maids wasn’t staying overnight. They had always taken the monitor during the night. Simona’s cries had still woken me, and she’d only settled down when I’d consoled her. Returning to the crib, I grabbed the monitor from the sideboard. When I stepped back into the corridor and closed the door, I said, “How did you know?”

  Giulia shrugged. “I read about baby monitors, and when I saw it sitting there, I thought we needed it.” She bit her lip. “Have you never taken it with you before?”

  I stared down at the small device. “No. Gaia or Sybil kept it at night...” I trailed off then held the monitor out to Giulia. She took it with a small frown.

  “It should pick up the smallest sound, but unless Simona starts crying, you don’t need to get up.”

  Giulia only nodded, not saying anything when I could tell she wanted to. I was glad for her silence. I nodded down the corridor. “Let’s go to bed. I need to get up early, and Simona will probably wake us a few times tonight.”

  I led Giulia toward the master bedroom, wondering how long she’d want to sleep in it before she moved to one of the guest bedrooms. I turned on the lights and motioned for Giulia to enter. She slipped past me into the vast room. She looked around curiously. Her three suitcases waited beside the door to the walk-in-closet.

  “I told Sybil that you’d probably want to put your clothes away yourself.”

  “Yes, thank you. That way I’ll know where everything is,” she said absent-mindedly as she walked toward the window, peering outside.

  It was too dark to see much but the general outline of the gardens. She looked petite, and I had to resist the urge to walk up to her and touch her shoulders. Last night she had to accept my closeness, but I wouldn’t force it on her again.

  I cleared my throat, causing Giulia to turn. Her gaze fell on the king-sized dark-wood bed on the left. Her expression tightened ever so slightly.

  “I’ll get ready,” I gritted out and headed for the en suite bathroom.

  I wasn’t even sure what had me on edge tonight. I had been wound tightly for almost a year now. It was getting harder and harder to suppress the flood of emotions. Only once I’d released my frustration, and it had felt good, so fucking good. It had led to this point, had ultimately cost my children their mother. Trying to stop this dangerous train of thought, I started brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed. A bed I’d have to share with another woman who didn’t want me.

  Giulia still hid her resentment better than Gaia ever did. Yet she couldn’t feel anything but resentment considering she was f
orced to marry me. Her feelings toward sharing a bed with me again tonight had been clear as day. Trepidation. She needn’t have worried. Despite the dark hunger for my young wife’s lovely pussy, I was a man who could control himself. I abhorred the idea of sleeping with a woman again who didn’t want me. The years with Gaia had been bad enough. Even when she’d approached me for sex—which only happened when she had ulterior motives—she never wanted to sleep with me. She didn’t even think of me when I fucked her.

  A new wave of fury twisted my insides. I spit the toothpaste into the sink then washed my face and changed into my pajama bottoms. My anger didn’t lessen as I stepped back into the bedroom. Giulia had changed into a silken nightgown with tiny sunflowers all over it. She stared at a picture of the white beach taken from my summer house on Long Beach Island on a beautiful spring day. A picture meant to call to the calm within me.

  In vain. It was unreasonable to be furious over her choice of wardrobe, especially when she looked exceptionally pretty in her gown, but I was. “Didn’t I tell you to get rid of those sunflower atrocities?”

  Giulia jumped and whirled around. Her hair settled in smooth ringlets on her bare shoulders. Her eyes were wide—as blue as the sky in the photo above her head.

  “Excuse me?”

  More anger, which wasn’t even directed at Giulia, still it roared louder inside my chest since I’d seen Daniele on his mother’s bed. Every night he went there, no matter how often I told him not to.

  “I sent you new clothes. I expect you to wear them.”

  Giulia raised her chin. “While I understand your need for me to look like a lady in public, I can’t see why I can’t wear the clothes I love in private. Only because I’m your wife now doesn’t mean I’m not still me. I won’t become someone else only because you don’t like who I am. You chose to marry me. You can’t form me into the wife you want. You can’t control everything, even if you think you have to.”

  What did she know?

  I stalked toward her.

  She tossed her head back to meet my furious gaze. Goose bumps flashed across her skin and her nipples hardened, straining against the thin fabric of her nightgown.

 

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