Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
His fingertips caressed my hip then teased the silk edge of my panties.
I moaned.
The arm against my back stiffened as his shoulders tightened right before he wrenched his head back. “Che due palle! Dammit.”
He shifted me off his lap and furiously paced back and forth within the tight confines of the gazebo, like a panther caught in a cage. Running his hand through his hair, he cursed under his breath again before turning to me. “Please forgive me, Ella.”
Falling to one knee before me, he grasped my hands in his.
For one incredulous moment, defying all common sense and reason, I thought he was going to propose marriage to me, renouncing any commitment to my selfish sister.
“That should have never happened. I don’t know what came over me. There is something about you that pulled at me. A strange familiarity I can’t explain.”
I was right. This man was dangerously perceptive, like a poisonous snake just waiting to strike.
If I stayed here with him much longer, he would guess the truth.
I allowed my hair to cascade over my cheek as I turned my head away from him. Hiding my guilt behind a false veneer of maidenly outrage, I attempted to yank my hands out of his grasp. “I can. It’s called I’m the twin sister of your fiancée.”
He winced. “I know. Her not taking that commitment seriously yet is no excuse for me to behave in a similar manner. I know better. I’m deeply sorry for my transgression. You have my word it will never happen again.”
His words sank in like a lead weight inside my chest.
He’d never kiss me again.
Never hold me.
Never stare into my eyes as if he were reading my soul.
It should be a good thing. So why did it hurt so badly?
“I won’t ask you to keep this a secret. You have every right to—”
“My sister doesn’t need to know. No one needs to know.”
If Fino came through and arrested my father soon, this would all be just a terrible memory.
A confusing, twisted, kinky as fuck, terrible memory.
He rose as I stood.
Right as I was about to turn and walk with as much dignity as I could muster through the door, he cupped my cheek again as he towered over me. “If the situation were different. If I had a choice—”
My eyes flooded with tears. “Don’t.”
It was the story of my life. Always being looked upon as the poor man’s version of my vivacious and fun-loving sister.
Even though I convinced myself I wouldn’t want to change positions with her for the world. In fact, the very last thing I'd want would be being forced to marry Matteo Cavalieri and yet…
It still hurt to be a mistake. Again.
CHAPTER 15
MATTEO
What a fucking mess.
The lights of Palermo shifted and sparkled as I viewed them through the swirling amber liquid in my glass. Lowering my drink, I took a large sip, relishing the whiskey's burn.
My head fell back onto the lounger as I propped my bare feet up on the boat railing. After changing into a loose-fitting white linen shirt and beige slacks, I had made my way to the upper deck, needing solitude.
The water gently lapped at my boat’s hull, only muted snippets of conversation heard over the still waters as families and couples walked along the promenade nearby. Gone were the rowdy music, the flashing lights, and orgy bonfires of a few nights ago.
Like a cloak of sackcloth over a sinner, the solemnity of Lent had descended over the city.
The quiet, somber tone suited my guilty, reflective mood.
I kissed her.
Dammit, I kissed her.
My fiancée’s sister. Her freaking twin sister at that.
While I didn’t necessarily have the moral high ground over my promiscuous future bride, I had at least been committed to being faithful and demanding the same from her.
Technically, we were barely even engaged, and it was clear the bride objected to the union, but that was no excuse.
I rubbed my eyes. Her sister. Why did I have to kiss her sister?
The answer was dangerous. Too dangerous to even contemplate.
I wanted Ella. It was that simple, and that complicated.
The report I had on Ella emphasized her shyness. The reports were wrong.
She wasn’t shy. She was oppressed. Between the crass personality of her father and the brassy one of Antonia, Ella was surrounded by brutish behavior and noise. No wonder she retreated into herself and her music.
It made a man want to swoop in and rescue her.
But this was no fucking fairy tale. She wasn’t a trapped princess and I sure as fuck wasn’t her knight in shining armor. This was real life, with deadly consequences.
“I need a cocktail immediately!”
I turned to see Aunt Gabriella, resplendent in head-to-toe Chanel resort attire, waltzing toward me.
Rising, I approached her. “Aunt Gabbie, what are you doing here?”
She rolled her eyes. “I really hate your father for teaching you to call me that as a child.”