Forbidden Count (Princes of Avce Book 8)

by Victoria Pinder

  A few days later, while planning her next event, she’d been notified online that Charles was spotted with Alexa in Venice, the pair holding hands. The picture had hurt and she’d told everyone to never send her another message about him—they were over.

  She met Matteo’s compassionate brown eyes and remembered how he’d lent her his jacket for that short walk from the school dance while she’d been soaked. “One of my artists, actually. Once he chose her, they fell off the face of the earth as far as I’m concerned.”

  Matteo wrapped an arm around her waist as they descended his stairs together. “So, he slept with you to find another woman?”

  “That sounds so predatory.” She shivered when they made it to the first floor landing.

  He motioned toward the door and walked with her as he asked, “Is it true?”

  He opened it for her. She met his gaze as she passed but the moment he joined her on the front balcony she said, “Maybe. I woke up alone and stuck with the bill for the hotel rooms.”

  His eyes widened. “Rooms?”

  Drat. She normally didn’t “share” this much. She sighed as he led her off the patio and down a garden path as she admitted, “Hers too.”

  “Ouch.” Matteo hugged her and kissed her forehead.

  Sheena realized that she trusted Matteo. Maybe she shouldn’t, but his kindness to her years ago just made her open to being honest now. She nodded and walked beside him. “That’s what Chelsea said when I told her. Then she talked about finding true love and asked me to help you plan your wedding.”

  Matteo pointed to the park in front of them that had a skateboard ramp. “For me and… Patrice?”

  “Planning your wedding was to remind me that nice guys exist and next time, pick a better one.” She watched him open the five foot slatted wood fence that clearly meant to hide skate park on the landscaped grounds as she said, “She wanted me to let her find out who her sister suggested, and then I should just marry that guy, and forget all about Charles.”

  “And you did.” He winked and let the gate close behind him.

  She hadn’t thought about it, but she had. Sheena laughed softly. “You’re right. I just hope you aren’t worse for me than Charles.”

  He led her toward a shed and unlocked it with a glance at his electronic facial recognition. She heard the click and he opened the door. “Our chemistry, I hope, is different.”

  Matteo handed her a bright pink skateboard with cats and fairy-tale stickers on it, reminiscent of her childhood. She burst out laughing. “Of course. Why do you have this pink one?”

  “It was a gift from one of my father’s many girlfriends. She predicted that one day I’d want to bring a girl into my hobby.”

  Matteo chose a sleek bright-green and blue board with blue wheels. He handed her a plain black helmet and pads that she put on. “You’re nice.”

  He helped her adjust the strap on the safety helmet. “There is that word again. Sheena, no one thinks that of me.”

  She shook her head. The reason she was so at ease with Matteo was because he was exactly as she said. She pursed her lips. “But-”

  He kissed her.

  His mouth on hers made the world disappear. She swallowed nervously.

  “I just hope that we can learn to trust each other.” He put his board on the ground and gestured for her to do the same.

  “As friends, we already do.” Though maybe he didn’t fully trust her—why should he? He’d been in need of a hostess, which she could do. She buckled her head strap. “I was wondering something.”

  “What?” He helped her stand on the board and find her balance.

  She held her breath, but let him position her knees, ignoring the sparks of unexpected desire. “Since you offered your house for an art show… I’d like to host a showing here this weekend.”

  He hopped on his board to demonstrate where to place her feet to start momentum, and then slow down. “This weekend?”

  “Yes.” She tried to follow his directions though the moment she propelled forward, she jumped off, worried she would fall—which might hurt, despite the pads. “I won’t expect it to be like the Paris Art show, but it would be my way to introduce myself to your neighbors. I have enough art to show and maybe my artists can sell some paintings and make some money.”

  He brought her board back to her and this time stood next to her and held her hand. “Sounds like my first charity event in the house.”

  “That’s a yes?” Her eyes widened but she clutched his hand the moment she began moving forward. He made it look so easy.

  “Of course.” He walked beside her and motioned for her to loosen her back leg. She tried and moved forward faster. “Trust yourself.”

  “Thanks, Matteo.” He released her.

  Her heart raced as she continued to propel forward fast enough to feel air against her cheeks.

  Behind her Matteo said, “Now, let go of me and balance, Sheena.”

  “I’m scared!” She grinned, hoping this feeling continued.She’d never been sporty in her life.

  Matteo swooshed beside her on his own board. “We’re working on trust. If you fall, I’ll catch you.”

  “You promise?” She continued straight on the path.

  He placed his hand on his heart like this was slow speed and he wasn’t worried. “Absolutely.”

  The wind pressed against her face and she rolled faster than she ever had on a bicycle. She forgot that she stood strangely with her butt in the air and gained confidence—until they went toward a turn. Her legs braced for a fall as her body went one way, and the board another. She fell into a wall of muscles and they both tumbled backwards, landing on their backsides.

  Once she could breathe again, she realized that her board was somewhere on the path ahead. She met Matteo’s brown eyes. “You missed.”

  “I did not. You are in my arms,” he said with a laugh. “You squirmed too much for an easy catch.”

  She joined his laughter and stayed sitting between his legs as she choked out, “Fair.”

  Goosebumps grew on her arms and legs and probably her entire body as she pulsed with his heat around her. She leaned her head back. “Now kiss me.”

  “Here?” His brow arched in surprise.

  She pivoted so that her legs were top of his, stomach to stomach. “Nobody else is around.”

  He inched closer. “But they could be.”

  She traced his jawline and desire coursed through her stronger than electricity as she said, “Live a little. We’re married after all.”

  He positioned them on the grass behind the bushes and the tree so that their bodies touched everywhere but a person on the path wouldn’t see them. “I had no idea you were this insatiable, Sheena Marceau.”

  “That’s Sheena Korbel, Countess of Golchin.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  When he kissed her, her entire body lit up like fireflies near a campfire. She hadn’t expected passion from Matteo, but the way he commanded her body made her feel desired in a way no one else ever had.

  Maybe, just maybe, her best friend had been right about her true love being Matteo. She was willing to find out.

  Chapter 8

  Sheena was nothing like Matteo expected.

  She surpassed his wildest imagination of what being married to her might be like.

  She finished pulling on her jeans he’d helped her dispose of in the bushes and he locked the boards and safety equipment back in the shed. Once she joined him, she ran her hand down his backside and another spark of desire raced through him.

  His skate park had sweet new memories of mutual pleasure that he wouldn’t forget.

  He turned and hugged her.

  She folded into his arms like she belonged there as she said, “It’s getting dark.”

  He tucked his hand in her back pocket and walked with her toward the main house. “Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

  She laughed and patted his chest as she stayed close. “No. And I don’t t
hink you need a bride-finding ball.”

  Neither one of them were on the market anymore. With Sheena that didn’t feel like a punishment. They passed by green olive trees. “Technically, every noble in Avce is related to the throne, so we’re all princes and princesses. I think I’m 200th or so in line for the throne these days but I was never tracking. Not all the nobles have reclaimed their number yet though, so I could be moving up.”

  Staff opened the door for them but stayed out of sight. She must have spoken to them because he was usually the recipient of half-hidden sneers. “In school you and Stefano joked that you were rebelling together. What were you rebelling against?”

  Inside, their feet echoed on the marble steps as they climbed upstairs to their private suite. “Our fathers hated each other. We agreed that was silly so we decided to goof off and be friends.”

  “See, that’s good.” She gazed up at him.

  Something in that gleam made him feel taller and stronger. He opened the bedroom door for her as he said, “I was jealous to find out that you were on his list.”

  Once inside she kicked off her shoes and headed right into the bathroom. His arms felt empty without her. “But why?” she asked. “I never talked to him except through Chelsea.”

  He went into his closet to pick out something to wear for dinner. They’d have to stop at his secretary’s office to discuss the art benefit. Sheena’s phone rang as he said, “He understood that you were a lady, long before I did.”

  The ringing continued. He reached to the side of the bed and read the caller ID. Charles. His heart stopped.

  She called out, “But I wasn’t a lady until we married.”

  Part of him wanted to answer and tell this man to never call his wife again. However, he dialed back the caveman response and just denied the call. “You already were, in character.”

  She walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel like she was about to take a shower. He put her phone down. She leaned against the frame and said, “See, that’s nice. Give me a minute and then show me this maze so I can plan the benefit.”

  Matteo grew harder thinking about touching her again, but she turned back into the bathroom and he heard the water go on. He crossed the room and peered in to see her behind the glass door of the shower. “Tomorrow at the latest. First you have to meet with my secretary to send out the invitations.”

  She lathered her hair in shampoo. “I’ll email him a list that has preprinted labels to make it easy.”

  His clothes itched. Why not join his wife? He tugged his shirt off. “So, not just the Avce neighbors?” Next he ditched his pants and underwear.

  “I want a few artists here so people know I can arrange patrons with talent—we’ll choose a theme to show your neighbors that we’re respectable.”

  Matteo slid the shower door open and joined her inside, helping her lather her hair. Her eyes widened, but he continued talking as if this was nothing unusual. “Sounds good to me, though to be honest my old parties here… they weren’t for the respectable nobles.”

  She pressed into his chest and then stepped back and took some of the shampoo. She lathered it in her palms while he stared in fascination. “Chelsea told me.”

  “Other than the party incident…” She gestured for him to lower his head and she ran her slender hands through his thick hair as he asked, “What did she say about me?”

  She tapped his back so he turned around. Sheena poured liquid soap onto her pink sponge. “Before or after she thought you were my fated true love?”

  Wow. None of that seemed real. Matteo stepped into the shower stream. “When was that?”

  Sheena laughed. “After she got married herself. Done?”

  “Yes.”

  She stepped out of the shower and grabbed her towel. He turned off the faucet and followed. Sheena handed him another towel as he said, “Quit stalling, Sheena. What did Chelsea say?”

  She combed her wet hair and her eyebrow quirked upward. “Before you were my ‘fated’ true love, she thought you and Stefano were partying as if your world was going to end before you turned thirty.”

  “Probably true.” His stomach tightened while he dried himself. “Chelsea talked too much.”

  Sheena turned and faced him, staring at the muscles on his chest before looking into his eyes. “So, it was true. Where was this redhead from the last party exactly? On this bed?”

  As they returned to the bedroom he shook his head. “We don’t have the furniture anymore to show you exactly.”

  She stopped near the closet. “What do you mean, you don’t have the furniture—did you burn it or something?”

  He opened the closet and selected pants to wear as he explained, “Every few months the staff refurbishes the entire house to rid the place of whatever sins my father, or later on, I, had committed.”

  Her face lost all its color and she tugged a white dress with green trim over her shoulder. “And you let them change all your furniture?”

  He dressed in boxer briefs and gray pants. “I liked it when I was a boy and came home to something new. My father hated it, which was part of my joy. The head housekeeper claimed to be protecting the Korbel title.”

  She tossed him a white shirt. “Now that I’m here, I’ll talk to the staff. I don’t want them to move things on me when I’m planning benefits in the future and it seems a wasteful exercise. What happens to all the furniture and accessories for an entire estate?”

  “The staff sells it in some charity shop I apparently run where all the money is donated to the church.” He pulled his shirt over his broad shoulders, tucked it in, and bowed to her. “Since the restoration of the crown, you’re the first Countess Golchin. You wield more power with them than I ever will.”

  She smoothed the fitted dress over her hips and motioned toward the door, both of them dressed for dinner in case guests arrived. “Do you manage anything personally?”

  They walked out together, and he bumped into her shoulder, his voice low. “Can you keep a secret?”

  She nodded. “I’m fairly reliable.”

  He massaged her lower back, wishing they were in the bedroom. “Then, yes. I’ve upgraded every household under my care to help my tenants. I’ve instituted scholarships to encourage new ideas and new businesses, and the small interest loans are mostly there to help my people prosper.”

  The gleam in her eye might be pride. She seemed excited for him as she asked, “How are you ensuring the upkeep to every household?”

  They walked down the steps in sync as he tucked his hands in his pockets. “Depends on the individual’s skills but I’ve made a personal call to everyone on my property to ensure they have what they need to succeed.”

  She elbowed his side and winked at him. “Then you are a nice guy. I knew it.”

  Sheena wasn’t as uptight as he’d feared. Her laugh echoed inside the heart he hadn’t known was there. “Let’s not call me that again. I’ll have to think of ways to punish you.”

  Her smile grew wider and the gleam in her eye became a dare. “Punish? Now that sounds interesting. Let’s try that.”

  He laughed and directed her down a different wing. “Sheena, you’re a treasure.”

  “Glad you finally noticed.” She did a mock curtsy she’d clearly spent years practicing.

  As he walked her toward the secretary and servant’s wings, his step was lighter. For once, he was the luckiest guy in the world, and all because he’d married Sheena.

  Chapter 9

  Sheena wore a new white dress with green trim she’d designed to make it one-of-a-kind in case she’d ended up going out with friends after Matteo’s wedding, that turned out to be her wedding too. It worked for being Lady of Villa Sogno. She was dressed appropriately for visitors or to meet the rest of the staff, which was scheduled for later this evening.

  They still had a few hours to go until then.

  When they’d come back from the skate park, all of her personal items from her apartment in Paris had been unpac
ked and put away. Having staff would take some getting used to, but it was nice. There was a note that she and Matteo had a visitor downstairs,

  so she left her dressing area and found Matteo in his office. He had a walking machine desk where he consistently had to step while using his computer. No wonder his body was so fit.

  “Matteo—are you ready to go down?”

  “Yes.” He stepped off the machine and walked with her down a long, pale blue hall with landscapes hung on the walls to greet their early guest. With uplighting, the hall would show off the pieces in her show to advantage.

  Matteo opened the door, and Sheena peered in, then blinked. Patrice sat on a couch next to a salt and pepper-haired older man with a belly. She wore a loose pale blue tunic with the neckline falling off her shoulder, a faint blush on her cheeks.

  Matteo froze at the sitting room door and his hand tightened in hers as he stared like he saw a ghost. “Patrice, I hadn’t expected to see you again.”

  The staff hadn’t warned them. Why not? Sheena smiled at Patrice, who blushed full-out. The entire time Sheena had planned Patrice’s wedding, she’d never seen Patrice blush. Sheena waited for her to speak. Finally Patrice said, “I was just talking to Mr. Alfonso, your secretary.”

  “Who works for me.” Matteo puffed his chest out like he'd argue with Patrice.

  Sheena stepped forward. In school, one of her teachers on decorum discussed how a lady might circumvent unpleasant circumstances with polite manners. Sheena lifted her chin and spoke in a pleasant tone, “Introduce me to your secretary, Matteo, as we intended—he wasn’t in Villa Sogno when I met everyone else.”

  Matteo held her waist and nodded at the older man in a navy blue suit made for him twenty pounds ago. “Mr. Alfonso, this is my wife, Sheena Korbel, the Countess of Golchin.”

  Patrice didn't straighten her shirt that was falling low and revealing her bra strap as she said, “I was closing my account here and paying back everything I owed, as well as leaving the wedding bills that were sent to me. Your housekeeper said the two of you were busy, but that I could talk to Mr. Alfonso about my business.”