She let out a chuckle like he’d joked when he hadn’t but then she said, “Rossie, hi.” Her phone was to her ear.
So, he answered his own and headed out to the covered balcony overlooking the Atlantic. “Stephano, hey.”
His friend let out a sigh as he said, “You finally answered.”
Unusual. He settled on a weatherproof chair to look at the falling rain. “I didn’t know I'd be missed so much.”
Stephano said, “Your thirtieth birthday is in a few hours and Matteo and I promised to be with you at the end.”
Friends were a good thing. He’d been lucky when he'd met the two men from his country in college. “I married Clara tonight. The wedding license is being sent to the royal palace.”
“Yes!” Stephano said fast and Astorre could imagine him making a fist-pump in the air. He relaxed into his seat, losing his view of the water below. Stephano said, “So you’re not going to be penniless… thank goodness.”
The door to the room was still open and he heard Clara as she spoke to her friend. “Astorre and I are… friends, and maybe more. I don’t know the future, but I’m happy for now.”
Clara giggled at something her friend must have said.
Hope was like a bubble that caught in his throat. Clara wanted happily-ever-after. He should have guessed from her innocent kiss. His skin grew electric as he realized she was his for the taking.
But that just made him more of a bad boy. And Stephano and he both knew it. “I think our wives have different opinions.”
“I guess so,” Stephano said. Astorre saw Clara whispering on the phone with her friend like they were planning something.
Astorre imagined Rossie talking to Clara about falling in love because it was clear she and Stephano had fallen hard, fast. However, Stephano didn’t have Astorre's black heart, so his friend had been free to find happiness.
Stephano, completely unaware of Astorre's thoughts, said, “I’m happy you’re going to stick around.”
At the last second, giving up his fortune seemed stupid when he could just ruin Clara’s life because he'd married her to get revenge on his father’s memory.
That already made him as crazy as his father in a way. “Happy isn’t a normal word for either of us.”
Stephano cleared his throat. “Just so you’re aware, as I’m sure Rossie is telling your Clara…”
Interesting. He straightened and braced himself. “What?”
Stephano’s voice was serious when he said, “Cassidy’s computer program matched you and Clara. She's the Bright sisters’ cousin.”
A snicker came out of his lips. No computer program could actually detect true love for anyone; not when the emotion itself was a lie people told to feel better about themselves. “That doesn’t matter to me.”
“It might to her,” Stephano said.
True. His new wife was complicated. Clara clearly believed in love as she spoke quietly to her friend across the room, still in her wedding dress, with pearls in her hair. She was an angel. “Look, I have to go.”
He swallowed and met Clara’s gaze as she caught his stare. She then said fast, “Bye, Rossie.”
“Bye, Stephano.” He was about to hang up when his friend said, “Come to our house for lunch or dinner whenever you get back.”
“Done. Bye.” Astorre ended the call.
He crossed into the room unsure how to warn her about him without ruining his own needs.
Everyone had been right that he’d never survive without a dime. He'd assumed he’d die soon after losing all the money, but now things had changed. He sat beside her on the couch, leaving the balcony door open so that they could hear the raindrops on the ocean. “We’re invited to lunch or dinner with Rossie and Stephano tomorrow--whatever is good for us, depending on when we leave here.”
She placed her hand on his arm and held him like she had some life-changing news as she asked, “Did Stephano tell you?”
There it was--her hope and belief in love. How could they work out? He was already ruined and now he’d ruin her too. “He said that Cassidy’s computer program claimed we matched.”
“Yeah.” Her lashes fluttered.
To believe in nonsense was a luxury his father had indulged in, where love ruled common sense, and he'd killed Astorre and Olivia's mother because another had spurned him. At some point in life, love made men illogical, irrational and dangerous.
She needed the truth. He brushed his hand on her thigh that he could feel under her soft lace. “Doesn’t matter. We went into this wedding understanding who we were and what we’re capable of.”
Clara sighed with frustration. “Yes. I know you don't love me.”
Good, but that didn’t address everything. “I heard you tell your friend that we could be maybe more.”
She nodded and said like she wanted to make him feel better, “I don’t want her worried about me. Don’t fret about that.”
Astorre hoped they were on the same page. Now he could show her what he had to offer with physical pleasure. He stroked her leg. “Fret isn’t something I do. I am attracted to you, Clara.”
A smile broke out on her face and she turned around to give him the zipper of her dress. “Good. I’m your wife, and I’ve always been curious.”
“Then I won’t let you down.” He kissed the skin he exposed as she let out a soft moan.
She said, “I trust you.”
No more words. He held her shoulders and pulled her onto his lap to kiss her hard.
Tonight he’d be in heaven and he’d ensure she was his, even if it damned her.
Chapter 5
Clara heard the water of the shower. At least she thought it was the shower. She refused to open her eyes for a few moments more.
Sleep last night had been amazing.
Well, that wasn’t true. She giggled and peeked to see the bathroom door was closed. She stretched and admitted to herself she hadn’t done much sleeping--and it had been so much better than her imagination.
Seriously.
The books were wrong. She wasn’t sore, but empowered. Her skin was sensitive and yet she wanted to be touched. Astorre strode out of the bathrobe, wrapped in a towel around his waist, his face taut. “Astorre, what’s going on?”
He waved his hand like she needed to move as he said, “Get dressed. Let’s get you to Avce to see your new home.”
So much for morning kisses. Then again, this wasn’t love and she shouldn’t lie to herself. She stood and ignored the nerves inside her that twanged a warning. She asked lightly, “My haunted house?”
He crossed his arms and his chest grew bigger, muscles bulging. “The place of innocence destroyed.”
Got it. Her face flushed. This wasn’t fun for him. She grabbed a t-shirt to toss on before she got into the shower so she wasn’t entirely naked. “When was the last time you were there?”
From behind her she heard, “I haven't gone back since I was teenager.”
“Not even to see your sister?”
His eyes were bright as he said, “Caught. I visit a few times a year to look over things but I duck out as fast as I can. I was being, dramatic.”
“You do tend to go to extremes.” If this caused him pain, they didn’t need to go. She inched closer but kept her head down as she said, “We don’t have to live there. We can go anywhere you want.”
He lowered his arms and patted her shoulder. “I need to formally bring you there and then we can decide.”
Good. She glanced up and hoped to lighten his mood as she teased, “So, do you promise not to murder me?”
He hugged her tight, his words intense as he said, “I’ll do everything in my power to never hurt you.”
And hopefully in time he'd be less over reactive. She hugged him back. “Good. I trust you.”
He let her go and chose a pair of pants. “You make everything sound simple.”
Last night all of his muscles had somehow made her tremble and she was still riding that high. “Well, you certai
nly know how to take care of me. I want to help you too.”
His voice was deep as he said, “You can’t help me, but you can be an amazing duchess.”
High-class wasn’t exactly her forte. She’d read books but that wasn’t the same thing. She couldn’t even pretend well. At one of Rossie’s early events, she’d almost torched the wedding arch she’d been assigned to decorate. She'd accidentally picked up her flamethrower from her gig as a locksmith the night before instead of her glue gun. She’d refused her best friend’s wedding business because she’d known she’d screw it up. “I’ll do my best but don't expect too much.”
He tugged on his pants and she grabbed a black dress the dressmaker had altered for her. Having designer clothes made her feel like a movie star. Duchesses probably had to dress like this all the time.
Clara closed the door and showered, washing all of the leftover hairspray out of her roots. Should she tell him how she used to live, so that he knew she wasn't qualified to be a duchess? Once dry, she slipped on the dress, and came out of the bathroom with her zipper slightly open. Hopefully Astorre would help her as she couldn’t reach without twisting.
She showed him her back and he zipped her up without her having to ask. Clara turned toward him, took his hand and a deep breath. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
He gave her a quizzical glance and then motioned toward the balcony.
Good idea. The sun glittered on the blue water giving them a gorgeous view to enjoy their coffee. He held the door for her. “About?”
It would be easier to show him because he had no idea of what living paycheck to paycheck was like. She patted his arm, returned to the room, grabbed her phone, and met him on the balcony. Clara opened her phone with her password. “Look, on my phone I have all these apps for services.”
She opened her "work" folder and a dozen task-oriented apps showed up as he asked, “Yes?”
Clara pointed to them. “I was living odd job to odd job. Two weeks ago I was mowing a lawn on Star Island for one of the Morgans.”
He tilted his head but then walked away, holding her phone.
Her heart pounded. She’d ruined everything already? Her stomach twisted as she wasn’t sure what to do, but then he returned holding her cell and two cups of coffee. He handed her the phone back along with a cup. “Why not get a fulltime job?”
Clara pocketed the phone and lifted her coffee. The warm brew smelled delicious and made her mouth water. “Because… it’s stupid now.” She took a cautious sip and was instantly awakened.
“What is?”
Guess it was time to tell the full truth and let the chips fall where they may. They sat at the table and she stirred her coffee though she hadn’t added anything to it. “I never could hold a job for long. The companies I worked for, even the department stores, all closed. I took it personally when two corporations went belly-up, though I was only working the register.”
He sipped his coffee. Today was a clear day and she could see the horizon of the ocean and the Rock of Gibraltar with no clouds in sight. “So you had bad luck with employment?”
In this seat, with this view, her past seemed like it no longer mattered. Maybe it didn’t, but she wanted to be honest with Astorre. “I’ve cleaned toilets, moved furniture, unpacked boxes--anything above-board that paid the rent that wouldn't allow my bad luck to ruin anymore businesses.”
“Bad luck?”
“I've lost two sets of parents, closed down two companies when I did work full time… so, I figure I’m bad luck. It's why I don’t settle into anything for too long.”
He finished his coffee and put the cup down, then reached for her hand. “You can soak your hands now…you won’t need to do manual labor.”
She jerked when his thumb caressed her flesh and almost yanked her hand back. Did he hate her skin? She settled in her seat and stayed still, enjoying his touch. “I’m just saying I have a bad track record for work. But I didn’t ruin Rossie’s happily-ever-after, and since I’ve been in Europe, I haven't screwed anything up.”
His lips curved upward to show off his sexy dimples and cleft chin. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”
Huh? Her eyes widened. “Oh my goodness. What did I do?”
He leaned closer and spoke quietly, “Last night you and I screwed very well.”
Oh. A loud laugh escaped her mouth and she freed her hands to wipe her teary eyes. She hadn’t messed up then. Clara relaxed in her chair and shrugged. “Ah, so you know American slang.”
He flashed a devilish smile. “Only some, and all sex related.”
She sat forward, exuding calm though her insides trembled. “Well, I figure you can’t be anymore screwed up than I already am, so who knows?”
He lost his glee as his face hardened. “Who knows what?”
She reached for his hand and held it as she met his gaze. “Maybe we can understand each other. Nobody else ever really saw the real me.”
His lips thinned, but he traced her arms with his hard yet soft hands that had never done manual labor. “So you’re saying one night of sex fixed your life?”
Maybe she was different after last night. She felt that on some level, but that wasn't what he was really asking. Clara always landed on her feet. “No. I’m not stupid, but I’m happy." She thought about this as she said it just to make sure. "And it’s okay to be happy in this life. I've stayed away from men and relationships for the most part because I didn’t think I deserved to be.”
He let her hands go and the sun grew brighter on their balcony, almost blinding her as he asked, “You’re cured now and capable of being happy?”
She stood as the intensity of the sun made it hard to see and walked in front of him. “Who knows, but I’m not scared I’ll ruin you so that's a good start.”
He rose and ushered her toward their room. Once inside, he closed the door and pulled her against him. “You can’t ruin me. You’re way too good for me.” He let her go.
Good wasn’t exactly the right word here, but she was less terrified of getting close to Astorre when he… he made her feel accepted. It was nice to not be seen as a burden. “Before we leave this beautiful place, can we have breakfast?”
He headed to his bag and zipped it closed. “Of course. Room service, or in the dining hall?”
Her meager belongings fit in a backpack, barring the dress she wore and her wedding gown, but she packed her stuff and ensured her wedding dress was in the plastic bag on the hanger. “This is a cruise ship… so I’m voting that we get a table overlooking the ocean.”
“As you wish.”
She brought her items to the door where Astorre had moved his bag, then looped her arm through his. Clara patted his muscular biceps. “One more thing before we go.”
He stopped before they reached the door. “What?”
They could handle anything, if he stayed open to her. She kept her voice low and said, “When we get to your estate that you hate, I’d like for us to plan something fun together.”
He angled her chin so that she looked up at him as he asked, “Fun?”
“Yes,” she said fast. She brushed his white button-down shirt. “We can do whatever you enjoy doing but I want you to show me something positive.”
His hand trailed lower to caress her backside. “I enjoyed last night.”
Her entire body flushed. She knew it, but didn’t care for once--she could be herself with Astorre. She reached for the door handle. “I wasn’t clear. I want to do something non-sex-related together.”
He stopped the door from opening, his lips near her mouth when he said, “But we can still…”
And then he kissed her. Hard. Fast. Hot.
Seriously, his kiss and touch was better than a movie that made her ache.
This was real. As he let her go, she let out a soft sigh. “Yes. Last night was wonderful. I hope that continues too.”
He opened the door for them. “Every night, if you can handle it.”
Maybe ev
ery night would make her exhausted, but she’d find out her stamina. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’ll teach me more, but for now, kiss me and let’s go.”
He kissed her and once again her toes curled.
This couldn’t be just hormones.
Awareness of him and them grew in her bones and made her forget everything else.
As he ended the kiss he motioned backwards, “Or we can stay and have room service while I kiss you senseless.”
She sucked in her bottom lip. Maybe she could indulge one more time… “Okay, you win. This is pretty perfect.”
He picked her up and they returned to the bedroom.
Heaven help her, she was happy. This feeling had to last because she never wanted to go back to her life before now.
Chapter 6
Astorre fixed his blue tie and suit jacket as the ship’s steward took their belongings from the suite to the waiting limo. He texted an extra tip for the service.
His innocent wife stood from the couch now that they were actually ready and joined him by the door. Clara clasped his hand like she enjoyed being near him, and he held her tight.
Unlike every other woman in his past after sex, Clara was now much closer to him, and since they were married he couldn't push her away. Somehow he needed to ensure that she never saw the real monster inside him.
They walked to the lobby for check-out and she dawdled around the huge yellow painting of flowers surrounded on all sides by gilded gold frame bolted into the ship while he headed to the desk. As he neared the attendant, she called over her shoulder as gawked at the crystal chandelier hung for patrons dining below them turned to the check out counter when she said, “Thank you, this hotel was gorgeous.”
She joined them at the counter and signed the receipt so there'd be proof that they'd both stayed the night in the same room, completing the marriage laws of Gibraltar which stated that there must be a ceremony, and a hotel bill.
He pocketed it to send to the palace. “Do you want to go back to the Rock today? We might actually see Africa this time, since the day is clear.”
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