Julietta gazed down at the diamond on her finger. Three carats, princess cut, flawless in clarity. The setting was platinum gold with no other diamonds fighting to compete.
Her husband knew her taste well—simplicity and elegance.
Too bad he wasn’t real.
The ceremony was exactly what she’d wanted. Thank goodness Venezia and Dominick were in London for business. She wanted no family members there to witness the sham occurring before a Catholic priest. She’d always dreamed of getting married in Colleoni Chapel with its famous rose window showing off the flanked carved medal-lions of Caesar and Trajan. The intricate detail and intimacy of the small church in Bergamo provided the perfect back-drop. Her elegant Rivini wedding dress was exquisite with detail, from the tightly fitted strapless bodice to the spill of chiffon of the fuller skirt, fluid with movement in a deep creamy white color. The diamond combs held her hair up in a classic upsweep and flashed bright within her dark hair.
Her shoes were custom-made, with encrusted diamonds over the four-inches heel and toe, playing a game of hide-and-go-peek as she walked down the aisle.
When she moved to the high altar, the rich murals and frescoes etched on the walls exploded with images of color and sacredness. Her mother and Wolfe stood by their sides as light streamed through the stained-glass window and Julietta waited to see if God would send down a thunderbolt in a sign that this marriage was doomed.
Instead, the day was mild and spring warm, and the singer lent a haunting note of beauty as she sang, her voice along with the organ’s chords lifting and echoing toward the arched dome ceiling and stirring emotion Julietta refused to recognize. Her mother beamed with pride and a satisfaction that ripped at Julietta’s heart. When she recited her vows, she wondered if her father’s spirit was finally pleased.
Unlike her sisters, she’d rarely dreamed about weddings and had never imagined walking down the aisle with anyone.
When she gazed into those shattering golden eyes, her heart lurched in a beautiful agony of need. The truth whispered deep inside her in mocking tones.
She wanted it to be real.
What would it feel like to be the woman Sawyer loved?
The one who opened up all those dark, dusty corners of his soul and let fresh, clean air blow through? He’d possess his mate with a fierceness and primitive air that no man could equal. But there was also a sweetness in his soul that called out to her. She remembered him bathing her so tenderly, the gentle touch of his finger across her cheek, the passionate way he’d ordered her never to demean herself.
“Julietta? Are you okay?”
She shook herself out of her musings and looked up.
The object of her thoughts stood in the doorway of the room she claimed as her office. After dinner, they’d headed to their new house, and both of them had immersed themselves in work, retreating to their separate space. Wolfe had long since gone to bed. The quiet, impersonal environment mocked the idea that a wedding had taken place just hours ago. It was business as usual, with iPads and laptops and furious text messages to business associates. The house roared up and seemed to demand more personal contact from its inhabitants. “Sure, just wrapping up some loose ends.”
Sawyer stretched and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d changed into a pair of loose khaki slacks and a clean white T-shirt, and he sported bare feet. The intimacy of sharing a house suddenly loomed before her. Seeing him in all forms of undress, but not feeling she had the right to touch him.
Panic lit. What if she couldn’t play this charade? It was their honeymoon night, and she had no idea how to act. Cool and sophisticated? Warm and friendly? She ached to crawl under the covers and hide for the night, but wouldn’t that look pathetic at this point? He spoke with no idea regarding her looming attack. “yeah, me, too. I have to get up early to go to the site tomorrow. Are you finished up?”
“yes.”
“Wanna join me for a quick drink before bed?”
Her nerves shrieked and her body jumped to come out and play. She deliberately squeezed her thighs together in rebellion. “Sure. Wouldn’t mind a taste of cognac before sleep. I’ve got an early morning, too.”
She followed him down the winding staircase, her fingers lightly tracing the smooth mahogany as they walked into the library. Julietta took a soothing breath of lemon, paper, and leather. Between both of them, they’d filled up the mounted bookcases with a variety of fiction, biography, business, and cooking. She’d been fascinated by his eclectic reading taste and found he could hold a conversation on practically any topic. She took a seat close to the fireplace and tucked her feet underneath her. It was important they set a precedent for the future. Julietta decided she’d be friendly, but distant.
He handed her the snifter of amber liquid and sat beside her. The warmth of the fire enveloped them in a com-fortable haze, and she relaxed a bit. “you looked beautiful today,” he said.
Julietta smiled. “Grazie. you didn’t look too bad yourself. And Wolfe was quite handsome. He even took out his many piercings.”
Sawyer laughed and sipped his drink. “yeah, he cleans up nice. I never got to thank you. For your advice with Wolfe.” He lifted his gaze and pinned her with sheer intensity. “He was going to walk, and if I hadn’t asked him to stay, we would’ve both been alone. How did you know?”
She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. “I saw the way you look at each other. respect. Admiration. Care.
you may have met as strangers, but he’s part of you now.
That’s how family is. They drive you crazy, push you to the edge, but family stands true.”
“I always had the opposite.”
“I know. But family isn’t about blood. It’s about sticking and loyalty and sacrifice. I didn’t want you to let Wolfe go because of pride.”
“And that’s why you agreed to marry me. right?”
Julietta stiffened, afraid he might guess too much of the truth. yes, she’d done it for family. For Papa. For business.
But the secret part inside told her she’d only marry someone she cared about, felt safe with. Sawyer was both. “yes, that’s right.”
“Did you ever think of marrying before?”
His probing surprised her, but she decided to answer.
“No. There was one man I got close to. We worked together.
For a little while, I wondered what it would be like to come home to him at night. Share meals, a bed, a life. But I started to realize things were flat between us. We made a good connection on paper, but he never sought time with me. I was like his conferences—scheduled in.” She remembered that feeling of inadequacy as she craved to forge more of a connection before realizing he wasn’t interested. He’d been calm and rational in what he wanted—a wife for business, a companion for company. Her frigidity annoyed him, but he never took time to push for more of a reaction from her, which only caused more friction and numbness every time he took her in his arms. eventually, the relationship with-ered and died without a speck of smoke or flame.
“Sounds like a real dickhead.”
A faint smile passed her lips, but the ghosts had been unleashed. The words popped out of her mouth. “No, he just didn’t want me enough. No man ever has.”
The sudden focus of his attention shifted. Those hot eyes roved over her body, reminding her of all the places he’d touched and licked and bitten, and the hundreds of ways he’d made her explode beneath him. “I repeat. He was a dickhead. And a moron.”
Humiliated at her confession, she laughed it off and straightened in her chair. “I agree. I rarely give him a second thought, so it was for the best.” Her lie lay between them like a big fat elephant in true cliché form. “How about you? Any desire before to walk down the aisle?”
“No.”
His flat admission made her cock her head. “I know you’ve been with many women. you seem to like compan-ionship. What was missing?”
Darkness danced over his face. A shadow fell over his cheek and highlighted his scar. “Nothing. everything. I’m able to have fun and have a sexual affair, but they always demanded more. Things I couldn’t give. So I kept moving on.”
“And now? What will you do now?”
Her challenge seemed to startle him. “I don’t think I’ve ever met another woman as direct as you.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
He gave a short laugh. “It is. you’re able to consistently surprise and challenge me. Is it time for our heart-to-heart?”
Her temper simmered again and she narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t enjoy being mocked. Why don’t we do what’s best for us? Work together. Share space. respect. We’ll keep those more base emotions out of the equation so neither of us loses focus. Agreed?”
He studied her mercilessly, but she refused to yield.
Julietta remained still under his scrutiny. Her mind screamed for him to take the compromise. Her gut screamed for him to ignore her polite request and drag her to bed. Finally, he nodded. “As you wish.”
The air turned flat and stale. Her energy drained out like a broken pipe, and she quickly finished her cognac.
“I’m glad we agree. It’s for the best. If you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.”
“I took the adjoining room just in case Wolfe gets suspi-cious.”
“of course.” She set her snifter on the table and forced a smile. “Good night, Sawyer.”
“Good night, Julietta. Sleep tight.”
She left the room and headed toward bed, half relieved and half heartbroken …
Sawyer refilled his glass as the door shut behind him. He still smelled her unique scent of mocha and coconut that made his mouth salivate for a candy bar. But she was much tastier, the memory of her thighs spread wide and her gor-geous honey flowing free over his lips.
Jesus, he was going to lose it.
His dick strained in a desperate effort to break free of his pants. Was she trying to drive him insane? She wanted a companion. Work partner. Friend. How could he con-centrate on those aspects when he ached to strip away her polite veneer and uncover the wild, sensual woman he’d discovered in his bed? And how long would he hold out?
He imagined himself exploding during a calm dinner and ripping off her clothes in a frenzy.
But would she like that?
Her words haunted him. No man had ever wanted her enough. His very tough, capable woman had her own demons. He bet the few men she’d tried to forge relationships with had wrecked her self-confidence. How else could a sexy, smart, independent woman think she wasn’t good enough for marriage?
Maybe he needed to show her.
The possibility danced along the edges of his mind. He could accept her terms and they’d move forward with no messiness. Probably the best course. But the look on her face when he agreed told him a very different truth.
No man had ever been strong enough to challenge her.
Push her. Seduce her. Her body melted under his instruc-tion; her mind cracked open to allow secret entry that both humbled and inspired him. He craved her like a drug in-jected in his veins, and though it was unpredictable and cha-otic and unplanned, he needed her.
Allowing her to sleep in her cold bed tonight would only let her build back her defenses. The right thing to do would be to leave her alone. He didn’t do love. She was a woman who deserved it. But what was worse? Keeping her safe but believing she wasn’t enough for a man to fight for?
or dragging her into his bed and risking heartbreak?
His brain told him clearly the only decision he could make. The path he followed since he found out he’d killed his foster brother as clearly as pulling the trigger.
But tonight all the thinking power had gone to his dick, and there was only one decision he’d be making tonight.
Sawyer set down his drink and went to claim his wife.
…
Julietta twisted in the pale blue sheets, kicking out one leg in an effort to cool down. For such an old house, the radiators pumped heat in massive gulps, and sweat clung to her neck and upper back. With a groan, she threw back all the covers and stared at the ceiling. Her body throbbed with a desire that wouldn’t be quenched tonight. Too bad she didn’t own a vibrator. of course, she’d always been too embarrassed to try it before, afraid even a gadget wouldn’t push past her icy core toward orgasm.
Amazing how Sawyer seemed to sense whenever she was pulled out of her body. He yanked her right back to the moment and refused to let her mind take over.
Stop thinking about Sawyer.
Sleep. Focus on sleep. Julietta closed her eyes and started counting. one. Two. Three. Had she approved the finance report for the quarter? yes, she’d sent it. Four. Five.
Six. Was it her secretary’s birthday this week? She needed to buy a present tomorrow. Seven. eight. Nine— The door opened.
She sat up. Stared at the figure before her. He’d taken off his shirt, so the moonlight played over the naked skin of his chest. The cut muscles of his abs and biceps shimmered amidst the wicked scars fighting for dominance. He stood with bare feet apart, hands on hips, gaze narrowed in quiet power. In that moment, the blood roared in her veins in a pure adrenaline rush. She swayed slightly, trying to breath through the crazy hammering of her heart. “What are you doing in here?”
“I think you know.”
His voice oozed like salted caramel. Smooth and rough and sexy as hell. She tried to answer but only squeaked some type of pathetic sound. He moved slowly, each grace-ful motion a deliberate action to pump up the sensual tension whipping through the room. She sat frozen amidst the sheets like a terrified doe about to be swallowed whole.
Julietta murmured the only word with the power to stop the roller coaster of emotion she was terrified to ride on. “No.”
He stopped beside her bed. His aura pumped out a raw, male scent that caused a low moan to rip from her throat.
Sawyer reached out and grasped her wrist. Pulled her from the mattress so she stood. Her pale pink nightgown clearly showed the thrust of her naked nipples, the shadow of her body beneath the delicate fabric. In her bare feet, he tow-ered over her with a domineering manner that screamed he was in charge. of everything.
“you’re my wife. It’s our wedding night. I heard your proper speech and agree that keeping sex out of the equation would be the smart thing for each of us.” He paused, lifting his palm to caress her cheek, stroke back the tangled wave of hair from her shoulder. “But I can’t. I won’t. you belong to me.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.”
He chuckled at her shaken words and continued strok-ing her face, hair, throat, shoulders like he was soothing a pissed-off cat he only wanted to pet. “Jesus, you’re magnifi-cent. you never give up, and you’re not afraid of anything but this. of what you feel like once I touch you, command you, direct you to give me every part of that delectable body.” Her skin warmed and softened underneath his touch, her nipples painfully hard against the soft cotton barrier.
“I’m not spending night after night with an erection that won’t go down and a need in my soul to have you. you do belong to me, Julietta. your body is mine for the taking, and I’m taking it tonight.”
His mouth claimed hers. She waited for brutality and raw invasion. She got softness, heat, and a man intent on winning. She lifted her arms, poised to push him away and fight. His tongue sank deep between her lips, inviting her to play, tempting her to leave safety behind and plunge into the all the dark delights he was going to show her.
She grabbed onto his shoulders and surrendered.
His satisfied moan pushed the heat higher. Their tongues tangled together, and his taste swamped her, the delicious burn of alcohol and spice and a hint of mint tooth-paste. He gripped her head and dived in, over and over, taking her mouth like he intended to thrust between her legs with all the glorious power that left no room for thought or decisions or approval.
Still holding tight, he guided her against the far wall and pushed her against it, never breaking contact. Her hands greedily ran over the lines of his chest, the roped muscles of his shoulders and arms, the line of blond hair that trailed down the center of his stomach and disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. He ripped his mouth away from her, stepped back half an inch, and gave her a wolfish grin.
Sawyer grabbed the delicate collar of her nightgown in the center and ripped it straight down the middle. Wetness ran down her thighs at the raw violence of the motion. He stared greedily at her naked body, and her clit pounded in demand. Sawyer touched a hard nipple, ran a thumb under the curve of her breasts, and continued down her quivering stomach. “you didn’t wear panties to bed. Why?”
His question demanded the truth. Her voice ripped from her throat. “Because it was too much. I was thinking of you, and I was too—”
“Aroused?”
She jerked her head. Lust gleamed from tiger eyes as he kissed her again, pulling her tight against his chest, devouring her piece by piece. He unbuttoned his pants and stripped quickly, then slowly turned her around. She fought to keep skin-to-skin contact, but he nipped at her neck in punishment and forced her hips to swivel.
“Hands on the wall. And don’t let go, Julietta.”
A shudder wracked through her. She placed her palms flat on the wall. He spread her legs wide so cool air rushed between and teased the swollen flesh. “I wish I could paint you like this,” he said reverently, tracing the line of her spine, the curve of her buttocks. “you’re everything beautiful and perfect and feminine in a woman. Graceful, muscu-lar, with gentle curves and golden skin that reminds me of a goddess.” He placed kisses down her back and nibbled on her nape, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. “I want to brand you so every inch of your body responds only to me. your taste haunts me. I watch you conducting a proper business conversation and dream of lifting your skirt and burying my mouth in your pussy.”
“Sawyer—” She turned in desperation but a quick smack on her buttocks stole her breath.
“Hands on the wall. you’re not allowed to have an orgasm until I’m inside you. If you do, there will be conse-quences.” He nipped at her shoulder. “And I’m going to do everything in my power so that you disobey me, baby. That way I’ll be able to punish you.”
His outrageous words stripped her sanity and turned her into a creature of animalistic needs. She squirmed and rested her forehead against the cool plaster, desperate for more. His low chuckle told her he knew every dark, dirty thought in her mind and intended to fulfill them all. His hands cupped her breasts and he played with her nipples, tugging, twisting, until they swelled and were so sensitive that pleasure leaked into the fine edge of pain. His tongue traced down the line of her spine and settled above the swell of her buttocks, then lower, spreading her cheeks and slipping his tongue to her dripping slit to pleasure her.
The slide of his tongue over her swollen clit, the nibble of his teeth, the strength of his hands as he held her open to everything he chose to do with her—all of it came crash-ing down into a raging climax that overtook her body and tossed her like a grain of sand in a tidal wave. She screamed, her hands clenching together as she bucked against him wildly, her body convulsing in pleasurable shocks. He helped her ride it out for a long time. Finally, her muscles quivered and relaxed. He supported her weight and held her against the wall, his erection pushing between her legs in pulsing demand.
“God, you’re sexy. you’re—everything.” The soft words wrung another shudder. He lifted her and brought her to the bed. “But you still disobeyed my orders.”
“I kept my hands on the wall.”
He laughed. “True. I’ll punish you only fifty percent for coming before I approved. on your knees.”
She muttered a curse under her breath but got onto all fours on the bed. “Why do you get to make all the rules?”
“Because I said so. And it’s more pleasant for you when you obey. Has anyone ever spanked you before?”
Her head rolled around to glare. “What do you think?”
His lip quirked in amusement at her sarcasm. “I think no. you get ten whacks by my hand.”
“I’m not a child. That’s humiliating. And if you continue, I’ll make sure you lose that hand.”
“oh, I like games, baby, and I’m the master. How about me torturing you for hours without letting you orgasm?” She opened her mouth to say something smart, then snapped it shut. The idea of it tantalized her, but she was deathly afraid he was telling the truth. “Hmm, smart response. Though I may have to try that in the future; you looked way too intrigued to see if I could accomplish the feat. For now, you get the spanking.”
“What could this possibly do for you or me? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“I guess you’ll have to tell me. one.”
His flat palm hit her right cheek. A quick sting made her suck in her breath. Her ass was probably as red as her face, completely embarrassed at her position and vulner-ability. Three more quick hits on the right, then he moved to the left. Julietta locked herself in position before each swat, cursing him, wondering why the heck he’d get aroused over such a ridiculous game.
Until she realized her body was dripping wet. Sensitized.
ready to go over the edge with one touch.
As if he knew, Sawyer paused halfway through to rub her heated skin. The massage only revved up her crazed response. She squeezed her eyes shut at the realization the whole thing was turning her on horribly. He continued on the left cheek for three more. each time, instead of suf-fering through it, she arched against him without thought, craving more of the delicious prickly warmth that oozed through her bloodstream and sensitized every nerve ending. She held her breath for the last two.
“Widen your legs.”
She pushed her thighs apart one inch. Two. Waited for the pain in horrible anticipation. His fingers settled on her buttocks, rubbed, then slipped between her thighs.
“Mio Dio! ”
Her clit pounded for release and her nipples stabbed open air in a terrible need to have his mouth and tongue and teeth. Just as she was about to orgasm, he slid his fingers out and swatted her backside with two strong strokes.
Her arms trembled, unable to take her weight. Her arousal rose to her own nostrils, and a low animal moan escaped her lips and echoed in the air.
His control must have snapped. With an answering groan, she heard the rip of a wrapper, and suddenly he mounted her. Grasping her hips, he slid into her in one hard thrust, filling every inch of her body and claiming her completely.
Julietta surrendered. Body, mind, soul. With long, full strokes, he brought her straight to the edge and held her there mercilessly, guiding the rhythm and not allowing her to do anything but hang on and give him what he wanted.
Her channel milked him, and he tortured her for what seemed like forever until she begged.
“Please, oh, please.”
He paused. Held himself deep inside of her, not moving, as her body spasmed around his penis. “you belong to me. Say it.”
“I belong to you, Sawyer. Take me.”
He reached around, gently squeezed her clit, and plunged.
The orgasm hit hard. His dim shout told her he followed her over. She sobbed in relief and let go, giving him everything he asked for and more.
…
“I think I’m dead.”
Sawyer kissed her cheek and pulled her closer. She burrowed under the sheets, and her silky warmth pressed against him. The scent of sex filled the air. Moonlight leaked through the window and cast shadows over the bed. “Then I’ve done my job for the night.” He caressed her bare arm, enjoying the feel of her skin. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of her.
“Will you kill me every night?”
“yes. I hope that’s okay with you, or we’ll have to play out this caveman scene on a daily basis.” Sawyer held his breath and waited for her answer. Somehow, some way, this woman had crawled under his skin and buried herself there.
He needed this from her, needed the connection of sex, and then he was sure the tension would finally relax between them. After all, they were married.
“No. I don’t want to fight you anymore. Fight this.”
“Good.” They lay in relaxed silence for long minutes.
He was about to drift off when she spoke his name. “What, sweetheart?”
Her tone was wary. Unsure. “I know you said you never talk about your past. I understand. But I feel as if you know so much about me. It feels unbalanced. And I feel—”
“What?”
“Vulnerable,” she whispered. “I need something. of your choice.” She paused. “Please.”
The memories swamped him, but her confession touched a tender part in his soul. She was so honest about her needs, even though she opened herself up to his ridi-cule. And Julietta was right. He hadn’t given anything of himself other than his body. He reached down and sought what he could sacrifice. The words flowed out without hesi-tation, as if always waiting on the surface for the right person, the right time, to escape.
“My parents died when I was nine. I had no other rela-tives, no friends to take me. I went into the foster care system, and I wasn’t prepared for what I found. No one wanted a young boy on the edge of being a teenager. I was placed a few times before I found a permanent residence. But things were bad. Worse than for someone who never had the experience of good parents I think. Like a shock to the system, I had to change my thinking about what life was in order to survive. When I finally escaped at eighteen, I roamed the streets, made a place for myself, but it was rough.
I found an old hotel in Manhattan I’d been staking out and slept in the cellar. Near the janitor’s room. I’d wash myself, steal food, and keep hidden. Until Jerry found me. He was a janitor—worked there for years. I waited for him to throw me out and call management or the cops, but he did neither.
He let me stay.”
She didn’t say anything when he stopped. He refused to taint her with his criminal actions, of the violence during his years with his foster father. She’d never understand. After a while he gave her the rest.
“We didn’t talk much about what had happened. He’d manage to steal me another uniform and began to show me the ropes. He told management I was his nephew and got me a job. I learned starting at the bottom of any establishment is the way to learn it all. you know the employees, the gossips, the codes, and the behind-the-scene shit that happens in all hotels. He pushed me to be more, and I finally got an opportunity at the Waldorf hotel. I traveled to Milan on an internship and stayed for a while with another hotel and finally traveled back to New york.
“He had a heart attack on a Tuesday at two forty-five p.m. I was doing okay for myself by then, but then I found out the truth. Jerry was previous military and had received a purple heart in Iraq. He also came from a wealthy family, but after the war, he dropped from sight and gave it all up.
I opened my door to two lawyers who told me Jerry left me everything. I was a multimillionaire at twenty-five years old.”
Her focus was almost physical, as if poised on his every word and drinking it in deep. Instead of avid curiosity, he felt only a deep peace and understanding from her, making it easier to go on. “He left me a note he’d written when I was twenty years old. It said, ‘Make your mark.’ I took off for a while to get my head straight. Blew a lot of money.
Then decided to focus on doing exactly what he wanted— proving myself a success. When Purity opens, it’s for him, because he was the only one other than my parents to ever give a shit.”
He let out a breath and waited. For the questions. The probing. He didn’t blame her and knew how women needed to push until it was painful and there was nothing else to give. He waited in dread, and finally, she moved.
Julietta lifted her head. Cocoa brown eyes gleamed brightly, but no tears showed. She lowered herself over him and kissed him. Thoroughly. Gently. As if he was precious glass and deserved all the care and love in the world.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
She rested her head against his chest, intertwined her thigh with his, and gave a long sigh. Then drifted off to sleep.
He waited for the pain to flood his conscience, the feeling of being unclean, of never being enough for the mentor who had saved him. Instead, there was nothing. A void where the rawness had once hidden. A curious wave of relief whooshed through his body, and he suddenly imagined himself lighter and more at peace.