Page 13 of Forbidden

“Why? I thought the idea was to form an alliance with the Gallos.” Her breath stuttered as she continued to argue with me. Continue to ignore the pull I felt. She had to feel it. It was too overwhelming to just be coming from me.

“Having a wife makes us look stable. Producing an heir means there’s a clear line when I die. An alliance with the Gallos might be nice, but a wife would be better.”

Not a wife. Not any woman. Not for me, anyway. Just Grace. Only her.

Anger flashed behind her eyes, and she shoved at my chest. I took one step back, allowing her to push me away. Not sure what had set her off, I was prepared to apologize when the venom in her voice snapped my mouth shut.

“I would never marry scum like you.” She grit through her teeth. I’d never seen her angry before. And I hated myself a little because I loved it. I wanted her emotions. Her rage. Anger could turn into love.

“I’m scum?” My jaw clenched as her face heated. Her cheeks coloring a beautiful shade of pink.

“You’re a murderer! A gangster! I hate men like you.”

Her words dug into me like a knife. It felt like she’d ripped out my heart and stomped on it with her pointy heels.

I’d been harboring feelings for her for years. From the moment we’d met. And not only did she not feel the same, but she loathed me.

And I couldn’t even blame her for it. All I’d done was show her the monster. I’d been rude. Hurtful. I’d pushed her away every chance I got, so I didn’t have to see her. Smell her. Feel her presence when she walked into the room.

For years, her hating me was necessary. It protected me. But now…now she could be mine. I just needed to show her my other side.

The side that had longed for her. The side that would worship her. Give her everything she desired.

A future. A family. Every dollar I had. All my power. If she wanted to rip the heart out of my chest, she could have it.

It was already hers.

8

Grace

“You hate me?” I held in my gasp as Vander pressed against me again, whispering in my ear. My spine flattened on the door as he closed the distance between us.

Why did he smell so good? Like sandalwood and man. How had I never noticed how sexy it was? Had we ever been this close?

Our encounter in the hall was brief. Over in an instant. This was different. He was lingering. Intentionally touching me. It wasn’t an accident.

“Then why are your nipples cutting through that dress? Why is your pulse racing?” His voice sent a thrill through me. It settled in my pussy. “I bet if I reached into your panties, they’d be soaked. Is that hate?”

I wanted to slap my palms over my breasts to hide the hard points, but I didn’t. I couldn’t because he was so close.

My breasts pressed into his chest with a deep breath as he raised his hand. I stood still as his fingers trailed down my cheek. It was fear keeping me from moving. It had to be.

But that didn’t explain why it took everything in me not to turn into his touch. It was so gentle. So soft. Caring. Nothing I would have expected from him.

“Wh-what are you doing?” His tattooed hand moved down my throat until it rested on my breastbone.

I wanted to lean into his palm. I needed him to move left or right. To relieve the ache in my nipples.

I was insane. Pathetic. The slightest amount of affection and all my good sense fled. This man was a monster, and I was letting him touch me. Craving it.

“Showing you I can give you everything you desire.” His voice was raspy, as if he was just as affected as I was. A moan fell from my lips as he continued. His thumbs brushed over my pebbled nipples.

My eyes dropped closed in bliss as heat pooled between my legs. When was the last time someone touched me? Certainly, no one had done it like this. Slowly. Deliberately. Like my pleasure was important. Like I was precious. My back arched as he rolled my nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

“Does that feel good, Sunflower?” His breath coasted along my neck as I gave a jerky nod.

A long-ago memory tried to pull forward. He’d called me that before, but not often. And it seemed sweet. Now, it felt different. Dirty. I pushed the thought away as his other hand trailed up my thigh, skimming across the hem of my dress.

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