Forbidden Count (Princes of Avce Book 8)

by Victoria Pinder

  He stared at her over his wine glass as he said, “You haven’t had to live out these responsibilities, before now.”

  Nice way of saying she was not of his class, and her family owned and operated a restaurant. She sipped her wine and waited for the jolt that comment had created to pass. Once she was calm, she said, “Either way, the whole “how to be a lady” thing was drilled in our heads. What else?”

  He lowered his glass and scooted his chair closer to her. “I trust you on that.”

  This close, her body had a different kind of spark, a sexual attraction, which was silly. She wasn’t blind to his physical attributes as being the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on, but honestly she hadn’t thought about Matteo in an honest romantic sense… ever. He’s been a crush, an unattainable dream. She lifted her eyebrow.

  He patted her knee. “We are expected to have an heir.”

  That wasn’t a spark. It couldn’t be. She picked his hand up and off her knee but didn’t quite let it go. She met his gaze and tried to formulate her words. Her mind buzzed with questions but nothing focused. She mumbled, “If we don’t… suit, like that, there are plenty of modern ways to handle that… don’t require us being physical.”

  His brow lowered. “Would you want to be pregnant?”

  In every dream she’d had of her life, married and children seemed the logical future. “Yes.”

  His fingers mixed with hers like flour and melted butter as he asked, “Are you willing to find out if we… suit.”

  This was how she turned to mush. Her mind screamed “friend” but she lowered her lashes, took a deep breath and asked on a sigh, “Kiss me?”

  “Now?” He scooted out of his chair. His took out her ponytail and hand ran through her waves and every hair on her body stood at attention.

  The brush of his lips on hers tasted sweeter than confection and this wasn’t the creme brûlée.

  As the kiss ended, she said, “I’m willing to try… but…”

  He released her, his touch lingering with reluctance and she wanted to pull him back—but didn’t. Matteo took his seat and said, “I’m listening.”

  The heat that rose in her cheeks irritated rather than sent pleasure through her veins. His kiss was meant to be savored but that was a bad idea for now. She licked her lips and once she was sure of herself, she said, “Chelsea was right. I don’t want any other woman around. Not the red-head, not another Patrice, not anyone.”

  “The red-head?” He picked up his wine.

  She did the same. She sipped and met his brown eyes, refusing to blink. “The last party you threw at your house, the woman you went to bed with.”

  He ran his hands through his short hair as he asked, “How did…”

  No need to have his voice trail off—that was then, when he hadn’t been married. She scooted closer, and clinked his glass. “We have friends in common.”

  He bowed his head. “Chelsea.”

  “Yes.” She returned to sitting straight in her seat but let her legs brush his—she wasn’t judging, she just wouldn’t settle for less.

  He put his glass down and nodded. “No more women then. I’m okay with that--I never wanted a son or daughter of mine to know… how I was brought up.”

  Well, that was good. While she didn’t know his father, she’d heard how he’d flirted with every woman he’d ever met. She put her glass down and took his hand. “Matteo, I said yes—but not because I’m secretly in love with you or anything, except for the slight crush all the girls had in boarding school.”

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he squeezed her palm. “I didn’t think you were.”

  Due to his previous kiss, she scooted closer to him with hesitation—she wasn’t ready for these new sensations. “I said yes because I know there is kindness in you.”

  Matteo’s face froze like she’d caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “How?”

  The dance. Or, chemistry class in boarding school when his “friends” had dropped liquid on her shoes, ruining them, and laughing at her for not being “rich” enough to replace them. Matteo had never once laughed. He’d wiped her shoe with a damp towel. The memory was so vivid. She just smiled as she said, “In school you were the nicest of the boys.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “That was a long time ago.”

  Seriously? Did Matteo not see his own value? She cupped his face and leaned closer, learning and memorizing the almond hint of his cologne. “And you always make donations to the arts whenever I send requests. You attend benefits and give back to your estate and those around you.”

  His eyes were ablaze but she wasn’t sure what he thought as he patted her arm. “It’s my duty.”

  Duty. Right. Feudalism was dead in most countries, but Matteo had been raised differently. She traced his shirt collar. Or maybe it was just him, and he inherently looked out for people like her, people who couldn’t always defend themselves.

  This was her way to thank him. Nothing more. Her life with Matteo might be wonderful if it was built on respect. “I want to help you.”

  He lowered her hands and held them, just above his chest. “What about you? Are you giving up on any man to be with me?”

  Passion wasn’t solid enough to build a foundation on. Her heart raced, and her face grew warmer at a quick memory of waking up alone in a hotel, when she hadn’t gone to bed that way. “My last boyfriend was six months ago.”

  He squeezed her hand but then let her go as he sat back and stared at her like they were in a fierce negotiation. “Who was he?”

  Wait. Was Matteo… the guy who could have any girl… jealous? This was impossible. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to talk about her last mistake. “Someone I met at an art fair. It’s long over and I haven’t seen him since.”

  He propped his elbow on the table. “Do I know him?”

  Matteo was notorious for dating dozens of women, he threw lavish parties, and was not the kind who frequented art fairs, or walked without his custom-made Italian leather shoes on in the park.

  She’d met Charles in Paris and lost him in Venice. She sat straighter and said, “Doubtful, but Charles was quite fun, quite mysterious and quite undependable.”

  Matteo scooted closer and their knees brushed. “So why did you marry me?”

  She fanned her face. His nearness was familiar and yet twisted something inside her she hadn’t felt before. She stared into his sexy brown eyes and sighed. “I want to support artists, the arts, and have security beyond my father’s restaurant.”

  His lips pursed as if he’d just been schooled. Even his knee felt colder to her as he said, “So I’m dependable.”

  Was that too much like a pet? She leaned forward and hoped her smile might soothe whatever male pride she’d offended. “And a friend… who kisses better than I thought you would.”

  His cheeks flared red, and his knee jumped, sending goosebumps down her legs. “There is that, but I’m slightly jealous now.”

  Her eyes widened as she searched his face to see if he was teasing. Matteo. Jealous? Huh? Her gaze narrowed. Charles was a mistake, not her future. “Enough to call this all off?”

  “Absolutely not.” He kissed her hand.

  She shivered. This conversation was done—in the past, where it belonged. “Then let’s invite the lawyers in, sign whatever we need to and be done.”

  They stood. He picked up his wine and took a small sip. She did the same, as if the act symbolized a seal on their verbal deal. Matteo’s hand brushed against her back.

  She trembled but did her best to ignore it.

  “Sheena?”

  Her lips tingled. Would he kiss her again? She glanced at his lips and asked, “Yes?”

  He put his glass down and took hers to set beside his as he said, “You’re a good woman. I don’t deserve you.”

  Her body ached for another kiss, hearing that he was interested in her. If she get ahold of herself though she’d lose her sense, so she nodded li
ke she was all business. “That’s good to hear.”

  He leaned in and captured her lips in a searing kiss. This must be how the lords of old had created such a dynasty because no one had ever kissed or touched her like this. She didn’t want the moment to ever end.

  Unfortunately someone knocked at the door. She sighed and the businesswoman she’d become as an adult took control of her body and mind as she stared at his full lips. “What was that for?”

  “Coming attractions.” He winked and let her go.

  She laughed. She hadn’t laughed in a while so the creases around her mouth were welcome. Perhaps with Matteo, as his wife, she would have friendship and chemistry. She couldn’t ask for more.

  Chapter 4

  Matteo’s gut seemed like a hollow pit and it wasn’t because of food.

  Sheena’s father had sent up a small feast for the two of them that was first-rate.

  But the sourness in his belly persisted and all because the image of Sheena with some mystery man was like a knife to the stomach.

  Nothing could have prepared him for that primal reaction. He hadn’t imagined marrying Sheena, but the fact that some other man had touched what was now his, irritated him beyond measure.

  However, he was a gentleman, a Count, and he’d never breathe another word about it. He would get his own ego in check. He walked with her to the door to let the lawyers in.

  As soon as they signed the documents, Sheena would officially be his wife, so it was important to keep his apprehension to himself. If he ever met this mystery man… his hands went into fists at the idea. It was better not to finish the thought.

  She stepped back and he opened the door, expecting to see two men with briefcases.

  His almost wife stood before him, her small dog in her square leather purse, wearing a knee-length blue pea coat. Dumbfounded, he asked, “Patrice?”

  She unbuttoned the top button of her coat, though it wasn’t cold outside, so he had no idea why she wore it. She pouted at him and let one side fall to reveal a naked shoulder. Then, the hint of her bare breasts. “I came to apologize for what I did today.”

  He stepped back and waved for Sheena to join him before Patrice unbuttoned anything else. “There is no need.”

  Patrice stopped playing with the gold button on her jacket and tilted her head, studying his wife. “Sheena?”

  “Hi, Patrice.” Sheena offered to shake her hand.

  Patrice’s lips thinned and she clutched her coat tight to her chest as her face reddened. “What is she doing in your room so late, Matteo?”

  Seriously? She’d left. Now Patrice wanted to return like she hadn’t ditched him at the wedding?

  Sheena linked her arm with his and smiled brightly. “I married Matteo today. I thought you were off to Gaston?”

  Patrice glared at Sheena like she was about to start a knife fight. “You? But you’re not a lady.”

  “A lady doesn’t ditch her wedding and always keeps her word,” Sheena said like she was reading a rule book.

  This wasn’t good. He’d only asked Patrice to marry him because she was there when the clock was running out.

  “Either way, it’s done now. You have your Gaston.” Sheena continued to beam as if unaffected by his naked ex, the epitome of a perfect lady in control. “And I helped create the situation. So, as you suggested, I fixed it.”

  Patrice’s nose turned up. The small dog barked. “You mean you helped yourself to a fortune and a title.”

  Sheena had probably saved him from a life of disgrace—marriage to Patrice would have led down his father’s path. He held the door. “Goodbye, Patrice. We have our wedding night to get back to now.”

  Her mouth opened.

  Before Patrice could say anything else, he closed the door on her.

  Matteo turned toward Sheena and offered his hand. “Sheena, I thought it was lawyers at the door.”

  She nodded but didn’t accept, waving instead to the balcony. “So did I--I’ll go get our glasses.”

  His stomach knotted. Sheena was a perfect lady. How he’d missed that bugged him, but to be honest, he’d never wanted to marry a good girl.

  Sheena had always been one of the nicest girls he’d ever met.

  How did he offer someone sweet anything of value, when he was the polar opposite? A firm rap sounded. He pointed behind him as Sheena returned with their wine bottle and glasses. She had a sway in her hips he’d never noticed before today—he averted his gaze. “That must really be the lawyers.”

  Her phone dinged. She put the glasses and wine down and checked the text. He reached for the handle.

  “In the morning we’re invited to dine with Stefano and Rossie… he’s still your best friend?” Her brow furrowed.

  “Yes.” He paused before opening the door. His friends shouldn’t cause her to frown.

  She tucked her phone back in her pocket and said, “Then we’ll go. I want to talk to him, anyway.”

  “Are you upset with him?”

  She refilled their glasses. “No, but he needs to know I’m not that girl from school anymore.”

  Another knock sounded, louder this time.

  Wait. Had she liked Stefano? His friend had recently married. He’d witnessed the wedding. His body stilled—the lawyers could wait another few seconds. “No, you’re all woman, and he noticed before I did.”

  She raised her eyebrows like he’d just said something crazy. “Huh?”

  He relaxed--Sheena wasn’t interested in his friend. Good. A third knock echoed and he peered through the peephole to make sure it wasn’t an angry Patrice. “The lawyers. We’ll talk later.”

  He welcomed two men, both in tweed suits and glasses. He’d met his estate lawyers before and introduced Sheena, who slid beside him like a perfect hostess and offered to shake hands as she said, “Nice to meet everyone.”

  Frederick, the older lawyer, nodded at her with approval. “We won’t be long.”

  “Of course.” She led them to the living area of the suite, as confident in her jeans as she’d been in her gown.

  Frederick brought out a stack of papers from his briefcase that seemed impossible to get through in less than an hour. “We already changed the marriage license and we have the official announcement for the Avce royal family. All we need to do now is get signatures on the contract. Justin is a clerk of the court and has the power to make the marriage official with his stamp.”

  Justin was the younger lawyer. He bowed his head and said, “Glad to be here.”

  Sheena held out her hand and asked Frederick in a calm manner, “Can I read this contract?”

  He gathered it together and handed it over. “Of course.”

  Without another word, Sheena took the small stack of papers and walked onto the balcony with her glass of wine. She paced the carpeted part of the living area with no shoes on as she read it and all three of them just watched her.

  His heart beat faster. What if she said no to anything? He was asking her to give up her life, and he honestly didn’t know why she would. Sheena was nothing like Patrice. She wasn’t solely after cash.

  She had integrity engrained in her cells.

  Sheena came back with the contract and smiled at everyone as she hugged the papers.

  Everything was on the line right now. If she walked, he had no other plan. He stood—she sat on the couch, and he sat next to her. “Everything okay?”

  She crossed her calves and showed the lawyers the contract page she had a question about. “The amount on page seven for my monthly allowance. It says there is an additional allowance for clothes and other necessities. But that amount is not listed.”

  He’d discussed this contract with his lawyers when it had revolved around Patrice. They’d had an addendum for Patrice, but he hadn’t negotiated with Sheena, or her lawyers. His stomach muscles tightened. “It’s not listed because I just want you to tell me how much you need.”

  Her eyebrows lifted, and she chose a pen from the pile on the coffee table.
“Is there a limit?”

  “No.” Perhaps that was a mistake, but he was willing to trust Sheena.

  She’d sent every bill for the wedding to his team to approve even though she’d been given free rein to do what she wanted.

  Sheena wrote on her contract as she said to the lawyers, “Then let’s put ‘with consultation and a minimum of $20 a month’ or something like that.”

  Every small decision seemed trivial, but Sheena was very serious. He turned his seat to face her as he said, “That’s not much.”

  She spoke intelligently and he was reminded that combined with her passion for art was a sharp mind for business. “I might not shop, but contracts are supposed to be clear.”

  If this marriage was to be a success, they needed to build trust. His mind whispered that he was setting himself up for heartache, as he and Sheena weren’t a good match. She ran a business, successfully, let her imagination run wild, and lived for her passions. “Fair, though make that $100 or more.”

  Sheena flipped the page while she said, “And on page ten, the use of the estate. Can we put in this contract that I can run two major art collections with guests in a year? The money will go to charity.”

  He nodded to the lawyers. “Reasonable.”

  She turned toward him with a slight smug grin as she said, “I’m always reasonable.”

  No need to argue. Not over this. “I see that. Anything else?”

  She shook her head and studied the corrections. “No, with those amendments we’re good.”

  Patrice had threatened to walk twice from the negotiation table over the clothes alone. Sheena was a stark contrast and a good dose of reality.

  Justin typed up the amendments she’d requested and printed them from a portable printer. He handed clean copies to them both. Matteo picked up his pen. “Let’s start signing.”

  Frederick said, “Please initial every page.”

  He signed his without question, then he handed the contract to Sheena to sign. She began to initial the pages, but he stopped her on page two and asked, “You read the part about the heir?”

  Her blush went from her throat to the roots of her blonde hair. He hadn’t known a person could turn that color. She initialed the page but avoided eye contact. “Twice. It’s what took me so long.”