Page 18 of Cage of Thorns and Blood

I suppose she's not wrong there. I tell her everything with the exception of the plan my parents have put into play. If I tell Carol that my family has asked me to infiltrate Matteo’s family and business and bring it to the ground, she will be horrified and tell me that I must stop this immediately. She will also be correct. It’s stupid and dangerous, and the more I think about it, the angrier I get because my parents clearly don’t care about my safety.

Instead, I tell her that I've bumped into an old flame, and that his family are deadly enemies with mine. I tell her what he did to me and how much it broke my heart, and I also tell her just how incredibly handsome he is these days, and I feel a pull to him like I've never felt to any other man.

“Should I go?” I ask.

“You need to frame this slightly differently,” she says. “The question shouldn’t be about whether or not you want to go for a meal with this man at this particular time. The question is a much larger one, and it's one that you need to ask yourself about your life in general. Do you want to live dangerously and on the edge, but experience everything that life can give you? Or do you want to play it safe?”

After a short pause, she continues. “There's no value judgment in either of them. Both can lead to a fulfilled life, but in very different ways. You could always choose to say no, make your excuses, and find someone of mutual interest. Someone you could fall in love with over time. You could date him, marry him, even have children with him.” There's another pause, and I hear the click of a lighter, then an inhale. “You'd be very happy, I'm sure. Or, you can live the kind of life where you go for dinner with the one man who makes your heart beat faster than anybody else on this earth. Living that kind of life takes guts.”

“What would you do?” I don't even know why I'm asking because I know exactly what Carol would choose.

“Darling, I’d take the risk. I'd go for the meal with the gorgeous man, and I'd get him into my bed. I’d pray that we would work things out and he would be the love of my life, but he'd probably rip my heart out for a second time, stomp on it, and give it back to me all bloodied and beaten. Then I'd probably spend the rest of my life not trusting anybody. But I’d still do it, risks be damned. And it's not because I think that's the right thing to do, or the clever thing to do; it’s because it's the only thing that I could do. I suppose I’m built that way.”

She’s right, it is the way she’s built. She never backs down from challenges or opportunities, and her life is glamorous, but I do think in some ways it is empty and perhaps lonely. Then again, Mamma has two children, a husband, and a whole host of aunties around her, and yet, she always seems lonely too.

“Thank you; that does help. I don't even know why I'm asking you because, of course, I'm going to go. I can't not. I'm too intrigued to see how things are between us. It was strange the first night when we bumped into one another,” I say as I continue the lie of it being an accidental meeting. “We were both surprised and finding our ground again. He wants to go somewhere that he said isn't upmarket but has delicious food. I'm hoping it's private. That way we might be able to talk a bit more and maybe see how things feel between us.”

“Just don't spend too much time overthinking it.” Carol gives a small laugh. “I say, have a delicious meal and then go to bed with the man. If he makes you feel tingles that you haven't felt in many a year, then take the opportunity.”

There is a knocking sound down the phone, and Carol swears under her breath. “Darling, I must go. I'm running late. Listen, go on the date, then call me and tell me all about it. Have fun, and live your life. You're a beautiful young woman, and you shouldn't be mouldering in that rented apartment in bloody Windsor of all places. Why you couldn't rent somewhere near me, or somewhere fabulous like Rome, I will never understand. Anyway, sweet child, I have to go. Speak soon. Mwah.” She blows a kiss down the phone and hangs up.

If I'm going to go on a date, then I need to look absolutely fabulous. However, Matteo said that it isn't a posh place where we're going, which means I don't want to look out of place. I decide to do some shopping and grab my bag and wallet before I head out the door. There's a nearby, and they will still have stores open until ten pm. I take my small car, deciding to drive there instead of grabbing an Uber. I own a little Fiat that is so easy to drive around, and I can park anywhere. I also don't have to pay road taxes because it's allegedly so fuel efficient as not to be polluting. I have no idea how true that is; all I know is that I can get into parking spaces that I could never get into with a beast of a car like the one Matteo drives. I park and hit the top level of the mall and head straight to one of my favorite stores to browse through the jeans. I have more pairs of jeans than I know what to do with, but I want a slightly faded pair that really hugs my curves and gives my bum a bit of a lift.

It never hurts to buy something new for a big date. Not that this is a big date. Still, I want to look my casual best. As if I haven’t tried at all and am just naturally sexy, when in reality getting ready for this date is going to be my job for the next few days.

After trying on about ten pairs of denims, I finally settle on some that make me look a few pounds lighter in all the right places. Next, I shop for tops and end up trying on three different silk shirts. I choose one with a gorgeous light blue print that reminds me of summer days. It will look nice tucked casually into the jeans, with a brown belt and a pair of heeled brown boots. Casual and yet, if I say so myself, sexy. The way the shirt clings to my curves and highlights the size of my bust is very flattering.

Long ago my dearest mother taught me one very valuable lesson in life. She told me that to always look your best is to know how to dress for your body type. It doesn't matter, she had told me, whether you put weight on your stomach, on your thighs, or on your arms. It doesn't matter because all you need to do is learn how to dress to flatter and disguise. Then she basically told me that I would always be a little bit too fat to be perfect, and that I better quickly learn how to smooth over my curves. The bitch.

Outfit in hand, I leave the designer store and stroll to the big department store at the far end of the mall. Once there, I purchase some shower gel, body lotion, and hair mist in my favorite perfume. It's a decadent purchase because it costs me over three hundred pounds, and I already own the perfume, but I just want to look and smell my absolute best. Then I text my hairdresser and ask her to please, please, please fit me in for an emergency appointment on Friday morning. If she can give me a fantastic blow dry, that will go a long way to helping my confidence.

I pause as I'm walking and consider the thoughts that just went through my head. This is not me. I'm a confident woman for God’s sake.

I’m the sort of woman who can walk into a room and know that nearly every male head in that room is going to turn my way.

I’m the sort of woman who uses my looks and sexuality to my advantage. Why am I suddenly acting as if I'm Cindy? Why am I acting as if I don't know just how gorgeous I am? This is how Matteo messes with my head. This is why it might not be the best idea for me to go on a date with him.

He is an extremely charismatic and handsome man, but that's not what has me tripping over my words and second guessing my outfit. No, it's the way he treated me before, when we were young. It’s all the things that happened in the past. I realize with an absolute jolt of understanding that Matteo Mancini is one of the few people in my life that I have allowed to upset me. He's on a short list, which basically includes my parents and my brother. Anyone else who made me feel this confused, I simply would have cut out of my life. I’d turn my back on them and not think about them again. It’s how I deal.

This is not about anything other than getting my revenge and having some damn hot sex while doing it.

Is it really worth all this worry for some hot sex, Renata? I ask myself.

“The answer to that would be an absolute yes,” the deep voice says, making me jump.

I turn around to see an incredibly handsome man standing by me, leaning over the balcony and looking down at the walkway below.

Oh my God. I spoke that stupid thought aloud. Fuck my life. Worse, this man clearly heard every word.

“You must think I'm completely crazy,” I say.

“Not at all.” He gives me a devastating grin. “I talk to myself all the time. Maybe not at the mall,” he says with another twitch of his lips, “but definitely around the house. Anyway, in answer to the question that you asked, even though you clearly were not asking me, yes, it would be worth it.”

“You're a man; of course you're going to say that.” I toss him a smile and don't miss the way his gaze rakes expertly and quickly over my figure. He's not one of those creepy guys who leer, but he manages to take me in with one quick flick of those intense green eyes of his.

“I'm David Reese,” he says as he holds out his hand.

I offer him my hand in return. “Renata,” I say. I don't give him my last name. I never give anyone my last name. Not until I get to know them a little better.

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