Page 11 of Ruthless Match

I continued staring at the angelic vision across from me as I reminded myself that this ‘arrangement’ was a business deal. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe if I kept telling myself that, I would believe it. If not, the Siren I was married to was going to be the death of me.

When we finished eating, Aurora stood and began clearing the table. I couldn’t help but watch as she moved gracefully around the room. She was confident. There was no doubt about that. Growing up in a world of high society expectations demanded that, but there was also a hint of vulnerability and playfulness. Her eyes spoke of a hidden longing for something more. I could relate to that.

As if she had been expecting me to stare, she turned to face me; her eyes twinkling with mischief. What was she up to now? Slowly, she walked around to pick up my plate, deliberately rubbing her delicious ass against my already throbbing cock as she did.

Damn, this woman plays dirty. I stiffened in surprise at the sudden contact, my breath catching in my throat as an unexpected wave of desire hit me like a tidal wave. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to reach out and grab her.

“What are you doing, Aurora?” I asked calmly.

Playing dumb, she tossed her hair back, picked up my plate, and walked back to the other side of the table.

“Clearing the table, Matteo. What does it look like?”

Slowly, she bent over the table to collect the silverware, giving me a tantalizing view of her ample cleavage, leaning over longer than necessary. I took a sip of my wine to quench the burning heat building inside me; my eyes never leaving hers.

She was playing with fire, and she knew it. The sexiest part was that she didn’t seem to care. She wanted to assert her dominance, but I refused to be dominated or manipulated by a beautiful woman, even if she was my wife.

I am the one in control, so if she wants to play this little game, I’ll let her for now. After all, we needed to find a way to exist peacefully, at least in public. I’ll let her have this round.

In the end, I would emerge victorious. I always did.

CHAPTER 8

Aurora

After I set the last of the dishes in the sink, I poured myself another glass of wine and walked to the veranda. Dinner with Matteo was intense, and I needed air before I turned in for the night. I needed to clear my head, and ever since I was a young girl, the ocean air has always seemed to do the trick.

Unfortunately, I’m all grown up, and the air's magic seems lost. Still, it’s relaxing, and at least I am away from Matteo. I’m not stupid. I knew that rubbing my ass against what I can now tell is a rather large cock and flashing him my cleavage was like playing Russian Roulette, but I hadn’t cared.

He deserved to be tortured after what he did. Does he really think I am some play toy he can use and discard when he gets bored?

Thinking about our earlier encounter, I could feel my anger boiling. I drank the rest of my wine and looking at my watch, decided to go to bed. It was only 10:00 pm but O didn’t care.

Walking back inside, I set my glass on the bar and yelled, “Good Night” as I made my way to the spare bedroom. Did he deserve to be told good night? No, but I am a lady. He might be able to accuse me of many things, but being rude won’t be one of them.

As I lay in the spacious spare bedroom of the honeymoon suite, the soft hum of the ocean waves began to relax me. I wasn’t sure how to interpret the uneasy tranquility it brought but it was better than the writing hostility I felt earlier.

What about Matteo Santoro, my husband, got me so flustered? Was it his domineering personality, his brooding gray eyes, or the intricately patterned mosaic of tattoos that I desperately wanted to explore? I didn’t know and was too tired to try and figure it out.

Before closing my eyes, I glanced around the dimly lit room, the moonlight glowing across the elaborate furniture. It was ironic. Here I was on my honeymoon, surrounded by tropical comfort and warmth, yet I had never felt so alone. It had been a long, emotionally chaotic day, and my emotions were reeling. Where there should have been happiness and joy, I felt confusion, anger, resentment, and, worst of all, longing and desire.

I pulled the silk sheets up to my chin as I turned to my side to try and quiet my mind. As tired as I was, sleep seemed elusive, like an object in the distance that I could see but never touch. No matter how hard I tried to push them away, my thoughts drifted back to Matteo. Why were all our interactions so confrontational and intense? How had I allowed him to catch me in moments of vulnerability that left me exposed and wanting more?

Realizing I couldn’t figure it out, I took a deep breath and relaxed my body and mind. Just as I was about to fall into dreamland, I was jolted awake by the sensation of something or someone in bed beside me.

My body tensed, and my heart began pounding in my chest as I felt the warmth of Matteo’s body sliding in behind me. Out of fear and anger, I turned quickly to confront him, but when I did, I became acutely aware that he was naked. Matteo Santoro was naked in my bed. What in the hell was I supposed to do now?

“What do you think you are doing, Matteo?” I asked in the angriest voice I could muster. I prayed he couldn’t hear the fear and shock that went along with it. “This is my bed. Yours is down the hall.”

Matteo’s eyes met mine, a combination of desire and determination that was both sexy and frightening. How he managed to be both, I have no idea but damn, I was in trouble.

“I am very well aware of where my so-called room is, Aurora. However, I have no intention of spending my wedding night alone.”

What did he just say? Does he think we’re going to… does he want to…

My breath caught in my throat as I searched for the right words. A flood of emotions, anger, fear, resentment, and something I couldn’t quite name and didn’t want to, crashed over me as he inched closer toward me.

Pulling the sheet closer to my chin, I looked at him defiantly. “You have no right to be here, Matteo.”

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