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)
Someone had seen the crumpled, sex-stained sheets.
Someone knew what Matteo and I had been doing in his room earlier.
Sciatiri e matri!
What must they think of the broken bathroom door?
And then anger took over, my lips thinning as my fingers curled into fists. That arrogant, domineering man!
Throwing open my bedroom door, I marched down the hall to the rooms assigned to Matteo.
Sure enough, neatly stacked on a small bench next to the fire was the suitcase, my cello, my borrowed clothes, and purse.
Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I hefted the suitcase to the floor and tossed the clothes over my other arm, before grabbing my suitcase handle and picking up my cello case. I then stumbled and struggled with my off-balance load all the way back to my own assigned bedroom. After dropping everything in the center of the room, I locked the door.
I then turned over my purse, dumping the contents on the bed, and reached for my mobile.
There were no missed calls.
It had been over four hours since my last call. She had to have received my voicemail.
Dialing Antonia, I got her voicemail again. “Toni, this is serious. You need to call me back.”
I leaned against the door again with a huff.
And started when the frame rattled from a pounding knock. “Ella? Open the door.”
One broken door was bad enough, but two would have the entire villa talking about us.
I twisted the lock and opened the door just a sliver. “What do you want?”
Matteo placed his palm on the center panel and pushed the door all the way open. “What are you doing in here?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to be more specific. Do you mean in Abruzzo? Because my sister’s thug ex-boyfriend helped her to drug me and send me here in her place. Or do you mean here at the winery? Because my sister’s thug fiancé is refusing to let me leave. Or do you mean in this room?”
The corner of his mouth lifted as he leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re like a wet dove with ruffled feathers when you’re angry. All big dark eyes and cute little coos.”
“Don’t try to distract me with more of your sweet talk. You had no business moving my stuff.”
He tilted his head to the side. “And what stuff would that be? You’re going to have to be more specific. Is it the suitcase filled with your sister’s trashy wardrobe? Or the borrowed clothes from my aunt? Or the—”
I pursed my lips to keep from smiling. “You’ve made your point.”
“You’re not staying in here. You’re staying with me for tonight, then I’m moving us to the house off the piazza.”
I backed up a step as I caught sight of the crumpled white note on the floor only a few paces away. “I can’t move into a house with you alone. That would be completely inappropriate. We’re not married.” I shifted to block Matteo’s view of the bedroom floor and the note.
But the second I said it I regretted it.
Matteo threw his head back and laughed. “Finally. We are in agreement. The answer is yes, my darling babygirl. I will marry you.”
I stamped my foot. “That was neither an agreement nor a proposal.”
He placed his hand over his heart. “A man can hope.”
“I thought you were going to leave me alone to rest before dinner.”
“I am. I need to go help Alfonso with this part. I just wanted to make sure you knew which bedroom to go to.”
“I did. This one.”
He smiled. “Have it your way, little one. I’ll be back to escort you into dinner at six.”
I closed the door and leaned against it.
My gaze lighted on the crumpled note, as if it were Poe’s telltale heart furiously beating underneath the floorboards to rat me out.
What the hell am I going to do?
CHAPTER 38
MATTEO
In a completely uncharacteristic manner, I was nervous about this evening.
I gave my dark gray wool blazer a final sweep down both arms with the lint brush and then spritzed some cologne on. After checking one more time that I had removed all the machine grease from my hands, I left my suite of rooms.
There was no reason to be nervous of course. This was my family.
Yet, I wanted them to not just like Ella but to fall in love with her. I wanted my girl to feel as though she was welcome and belonged. Although I would have hoped for the same had I been forced to go through with the arranged marriage to her sister, this was on a different level.
At no point had I imagined the possibility of a truly happy marriage with Antonia. I had envisioned eventually purchasing her a flat in Rome where we would live polite, but separate lives. After she had given me an heir of course. In fact, the only enjoyable prospect of the whole arrangement was the twisted, kinky sex I assumed we would have in my pursuit of a child.