Page 48 of The Cost of Corruption

I drained the rest of my glass before setting it back on the table and slowly shifting my gaze to Chastity’s gobsmacked face.

For a long moment, she didn’t say a word. She barely even breathed.

But eventually, her shoulders shook with a prolonged sigh, and her lips trembled as, maybe for the first time ever, she decided that a little blasphemy wasn’t totally uncalled for.

“Holy shit.”

Chapter Thirteen

CHASTITY

“Another glass?” Matteo asked as I slid the empty vessel back onto the table.

“I think that’s enough.” I shook my head. “For both of us.”

Over the course of the most delicious meal in memory, we’d drained the first bottle of Bordeaux. The deep fruit essence of the wine paired perfectly with the rich sauce and melt-in-your-mouth feel of the slow-cooked beef. I’d savored every sip and bite.

But now, at the bottom of my third glass, I was starting to feel a little tipsy.

Nothing like last night, though.

Just a pleasant, floaty kind of feeling that warmed my cheeks and allowed me to thoroughly enjoy the evening instead of worrying about the consequences we’d have to face for Matteo’s show of bravado.

“But there’s another bottle just waiting for us,” he reminded me.

“So, take it home,” I said with a lazy shrug before resting my elbows on the table. Leaning in and propping up my chin on my clasped hands, I asked, “And stop trying to get me drunk.”

He pushed back in his seat, stretching his arms out along the back of the booth and relaxing in a languid way that made him seem perfectly at ease in his body.

“Believe it or not, that’s not my intention,” he said. “I just enjoy seeing you take pleasure in the finer things in life.”

Ha!

I’d meant for that laugh to stay internal. I really did. But it seemed the wine had loosened more than just my uptight nature. It had also affected my reserve.

His head fell to the side, sending his dark hair tumbling over the side of his brow in a rakish fall.

“You don’t believe me?” he said.

I shook my head.

“Do you want to hear what Ireally think?” I asked with a courage that didn’t exist three glasses ago.

“It’s the only thing I want,” he replied.

“Fine,” I leaned in even closer. So close that my chest pressed against the edge of the cloth-covered table. The move caused my breasts to push together and swell even higher over the already low neckline of the dress. “I think that, just like every other man in the world, the only pleasure you’re after is your own.”

Matteo smiled.

A breathtakingly devilish smile that made my already fluttering wine-drenched heart take to the sky.

“You don’t actually believe that,” he said, sounding as confident as always.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then let me ask you this—is this an idea you came up with all on your own or one your father planted in your head?”

“Why does that matter?”

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