Page 32 of Forbidden Vows

He is a fantastic kisser.

Breakfast arrives on silver trays, the scent of freshly baked croissants mingling with the sweet aroma of ripe strawberries and juicy melon slices. After enjoying piles of fresh fruit, espresso, and one too many baked goods, I pull my notebook from my purse. Attempting to be discreet, I jot down what I think Seraphina and my breakfasts cost. He can pay for Dad, right? He is his stepfather, after all?—

A big hand interrupts my calculating, snapping my notebook shut.

“Hey!” I glance up indignantly, but I’m met with a pair of very stern—though beautiful—green eyes.

Blaze’s voice drops an octave. “Enough,” he says. He takes the notebook from the table and hands it back to me. “I’m paying. I don’t want to see this again.”

I go to argue, but the set of his jawline makes me go meek, so I slide the notebook into my purse.

Blaze stands from the table, offering, “Ready to see the houses?”

“Sure!” I hop up a little too fast.

Seraphina gives me a cool stare. I know she’s wondering what’s up between Blaze and me. She tried to corner me in the bathroom on the jet. I told her I had an iffy stomach, and she needed to make like a tree and leave.

It wasn’t an untruth, but I have to be careful. She’s onto me.

Sharon and my dad join us at the café's exit, making it a party of five. “Hey, sweetheart.” My dad pulls me in for a side hug. Eager to be alone with Sharon, he says, “You kidsready to get to the house for some rest? We old folks could use a nap.”

‘Nap’ is code for post-marital coitus, and everyone knows it. Sharon’s practically giggling.

Do not wink at Sharon, Dad.

He totally winked at her. Gross.

“We’ll drop Seraphina off at her cottage first,” Blaze says, leading us out of the café and into the sun.

Seraphina turns to me. “I hope you don’t mind. When Blaze asked me to come to Italy with you, I told him I’d need space to work. I hope to do a few personal social media shoots in my spare time. This place will be perfect!”

“No, it’s great!” My voice comes out super high. “I’m so grateful you came.” I shoot Blaze a grin. “Thanks again for making her so comfortable.”

“No worries,” he says. “It’ll be fun having a professional photographer stay with us. Careful though—once word gets around, you might be overwhelmed with Bachmans demanding a couple’s portrait by the beach.”

The excitement I’m pretending doesn’t exist builds as we walk away from Seraphina’s cottage. There’s no platonic roommate situation to save me from Blaze’s burning loins. We will share a bed.

I’m both terrified and turned on.

Chapter Nine

Cleopatra

I walk beside Blaze while Sharon and Dad follow behind in their own little whispering world. “The four of us will stay at my place,” Blaze announces to our little group. He leans over to whisper to me. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“All four of us?” I squeak. “In one house?”

Again? Heated memories of his bare torso, skin damp and scented fresh from the shower, surged to the forefront of my mind.

He gives a seductive wink. “Just like old times.”

Old times? The torrent of teen hormones when I was tortured by the protective older brother role he played for me while trying not to check him out? This is the worst-case situation. Not only must I find ways to avoid him, but I have to do so in front of our parents. I'm flooded withteenage embarrassment as I recall trying to look away when he was only in a towel.

Now, he looks even better, more filled out, with bulging muscles and dark chest hair?—

As Seraphina would say, this is a prime piece of real estate!

This is my dream house. It’s currently a little dilapidated, with crooked shutters and missing cedar shingles, but overall, it is my absolute dream of a home: a small mansion that somehow manages to feel like a storybook cottage. The exterior splendor is not yet fully realized due to the green overgrowth and lack of landscaping, but it is magical all the same.

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