“Isn’t it a little too late for that now?” he asked in amusement. “She is now a De Luca.”
“An American woman…” There was a note of disparagement in his tone that could not be ignored. “Of all the beautiful and titled women in our country, you chose her.”
“She is good for me.” Piero said with a shrug, his eyes moving from his wife’s slender figure to the stunningly beautiful dark haired woman in one corner of the room. Her head lifted as if she sensed his gaze and something simmered between them. He held her gaze for a minute longer before returning it to his wife.
A smile touched his lips as he watched her. She had kicked off her strappy sandals and had encouraged the other wives to join her on the dance floor. Hiking up the rather expensive dress to give her room to maneuver, she was moving to the catchy tune she had requested to be played. Several big name artistes had already performed live and were milling around with the other guests. Lauren had told him that she had endured the stuffy ceremony with the mix of Italian music and classical blends and would very much like to enjoy her wedding by doing something she wanted to do. He had told her to go ahead. She lifted her head and their gazes clashed, hers challenging him. He rose to it, taking off his suit jacket and handing it to his assistant who hurried over in anticipation of his need and strode over to take her hand.
“Think you can match my moves?” she asked as she stepped into his arms.
His hands tightened around her waist, his gaze smoldering as he stared down at her. He was intrigued by her - this slender woman with the effervescent personality and strong energy.
“I have been able to do that since we met, Tesoro.”
“I am not talking about sex,” she whispered huskily.
“Neither am I.” He pressed her body against his and she could not stop the moan escaping her throat as she felt the evidence of his desire.
“You are not being fair,” she told him, her fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. He was six foot four and she was barely five two, which meant that he towered over her, his dark brooding beauty a magnet that drew her every single time. She was about to say something else when her eyes caught that of the Italian beauty she had noticed staring at them before. “Who is she?”
Without looking over, Piero knew who it was she was referring to. He gave her a brief glance before looking down at his wife.
“Sophia Bianchi, wife of an associate of the family.”
Lauren turned her head to look at the woman again, jolted as the dark eyes stared back at her, emanating what felt like animosity.
“Is there a reason she does not like me, or should I guess?”
“Why would she not like you?” her husband asked with a shrug. “She has never met you.”
“Exactly. Unless…” Her voice trailed off as she stared at him. “Unless she has reason to.”
“I do not want to talk about some woman while I am dancing with my wife.”
“Piero, is she—”
“Enough!” the single word was said in a quiet tone but conveyed such authority that it caused her to stumble. Her dark brown eyes blazed at him and she tried to pull away, but he held her firm. “I do not like scenes.” His intense dark eyes stared into hers. “Am I clear? And I do not like people ordering me around.”
“It appears we are at an impasse.” His hand came up to clamp the back of her neck. “She means nothing to me Amore mio.”
Putting pressure on her neck he brought her face up to his, lips finding hers in a kiss that emptied her head of anything else but him!
Chapter 2
Piero knew that she would follow him out and had left the crowded ballroom with that thought in mind. He had told his new bride that he had to go to the men’s room and had taken a circuitous route to the appointed room. He was on his way back when he saw her coming towards him. With a slight nod of his he indicated the conference room on his left. Making sure that they were not observed, he pushed the doors open and allowed her to precede him into the empty room. Shaking his head, he discouraged her flinging herself into his arms and stood with his back to the doors.
“You were looking at her was if you were in love with her.” Her husky voice was tinged with tears, her large dark eyes glistening with ones she did not dare shed. “I had to sit in that church and watch you pledge your life to this woman.”
“The same way I had to stand by and watch you pledge your life to another man.” He sliced the air with his hand, an impatient frown on his brow. “You should not have come, Sophia.”
“I had to come to see for myself.” She blinked back the tears. “You love me Piero, not her!”
“And you married someone other than me. Did you expect me to sit and wait for him to drop dead? Hope that he does? Mattia is an associate and a friend and more importantly, your husband.”
“I told you that I would divorce him,” she pointed out.
“That is a moot point now. I am married.”
“You do not love her.”
“I need her and desire her and that is enough.”
She approached him, and he held out his hands to deter her.
“This is my wedding day and I am about to take my bride up to the honeymoon suite to consummate our relationship as husband and wife. I need you to accept that.”
“You have slept with her.”
Piero smiled slightly. “I cannot call what we do sleep.” His intense eyes sought hers and he felt the pain and regret for what could have been. They had been friends and lovers for years and he had had the intention of asking her to marry him when they had had a falling out which had foolishly lasted more than two weeks. During those two weeks, she had slept with someone else in a fit of pique and had ended up getting pregnant - the only natural thing to do after that was for Mattia to marry her. Ironically, she had miscarried two months after and Sophia had spent several months trying to get Piero to give her some indication that he had forgiven her and that he wanted to marry her so she could leave her husband and come to him. He had not done so, and when she had heard of his engagement and announcement of his wedding, the hope had shriveled up and died a slow death.
“We were good together.” She swallowed the lump inside her throat.
“More than good.” His face softened as he stared at her.
“I love you Piero,” she whispered as she moved towards him. He opened his arms to her, and she burrowed into his chest, the tears spilling down her cheeks. “I am so sorry for what I did to us. I wish I could take it all back.”
He held her, his eyes closing as he remembered how they had been. He could not remember what the fight had been about now, but he knew that it had been insignificant and that they should have found their way around it and mended the breach. Now it was too late for either of them. Placing a kiss on top of her glossy head, he started to move her away from her, but she clung, lifting her tear stained face to his.
“I would do anything to go back.”
“We cannot.” A trace of impatience tinged his voice as he stared down at her, “we must move forward.”
“Are you going to stay married to her?”
He stared at her with a frown. “You know I will.”