Page 43 of Wicked Sinner
“I haven’t chosen anyone yet,” I say shortly, and Catherine chuckles. She’s unfazed by my short tone, which is refreshing. She’s certainly more clearheaded than someone like Isabella is,and not for the first time, I reflect that she’d probably be my choice if Bridget hadn’t come into my life.
But now that I’ve met Bridget, now that I’ve touched her, tasted her, gotten to know her even a little—everyone else pales by comparison.
“My father would want to host you, too, if it didn’t require you traveling so far.” Caterina lifts her glass of champagne to her lips. “If anything comes of this—” she gestures between the two of us, “you’ll have to come for a visit to my family home before the wedding.”
She says it so casually that it startles me. As if she’s talking about a yearly barbecue. As if it doesn’t matter to her one way or another—but I suppose that maybe it doesn’t. There are likely plenty of other rich men who would be interested in marrying her, and her lack of desperation is, again, refreshing.
“Want to dance?” she asks, finishing her champagne and dropping the glass on a passing tray, and I nod, sweeping her onto the floor as the string quartet starts up a new song.
She dances beautifully, elegant and smooth, and I have to admit that she feels good in my arms. But I don’t feel that surge of desire, that hungryneedthat I feel just from being in the same room as Bridget. Maybe I could have settled for this before, but now… now it’s changed everything for me.
I dance with Caterina until I see Elisa, and let her go to dance with the pretty brunette. Elisa makes small talk as we move across the dance floor, her manner bright and flirtatious, but she seems to recognize that she hasn’t captured my attention the way she might have wanted to. She’s sweet and intelligent, but a little boring. She mentions that, if she’d been allowed to focus on a career, she would have wanted to do accounting for her father’s business, and that doesn’t surprise me in the least.
I dance with two more young women before I end up with Isabella again. She looks slightly miffed—maybe because I spentso much time away from her when this is, ostensibly, meant to be her night.
“You seem distracted.” Isabella’s hand curls against my shoulder. “Are you not having a good time?”
“I just have a lot on my mind,” I say automatically. “Business. There’s a lot to sort through, after coming back?—
"Anything I can help with?" She sways closer, and her sugary perfume wafts over me. My mind automatically flicks back to Bridget—how she always smells of the honey lavender soap and warm feminine skin, and nothing else. "I'm a very good listener. My sister always says?—"
“It’s nothing you need to worry about?—”
The words aren’t even fully out of my mouth before she steps back, tugging at my hand to lead me off of the dance floor. I consider suggesting to her that we stay put, but I don’t want to offend her or cause a scene, so—against my better judgment—I follow.
We end up at a far corner of the ballroom, near a large window overlooking the back of the estate, heavy drapes partially concealing us from the rest of the room. Isabella turns to me, and before I can ask her why she’s pulled me over here, her hands plant against my chest, and she goes up on her toes, her mouth aimed toward mine.
I catch her shoulders, holding her back gently but firmly. If there’s one thing I havenointerest in tonight, it’s kissing Isabella. Nor do I have any interest in her mother or father seeing this and thinking I’m more serious about this than I am.
"Isabella—"
"I know this is all very proper and formal," she says breathlessly, "but I want you to know that I'm very interested in getting to know you better. Much better."
I can hear the offer in her voice. The suggestion that, if I wanted to, we could sneak off somewhere and do just that.Before Bridget, I might even have taken her up on it. Isabella isn’t a woman I’d consider marrying, but I’ve never been a particularly virtuous man. I wouldn’t take her virginity, but there’s plenty else we could do if?—
If I weren’t already obsessed with a woman who makes Isabella pale in comparison.
Beautiful and willing isn’t enough for me any longer. Now I’m consumed with a woman who doesn’t want me, who spits and scratches like a cat, who does everything in her power to make it clear that she thinks I’m the devil himself.
And I can’t get her out of my head.
“I think we should take things slowly,” I say carefully, moving around her and stepping back out into the light. Disappointment flickers across her face, but she covers it quickly with another perfect smile, a flicker of worry in her eyes for a brief second—probably concerned that I don’t think she’s virtuous enough.
“Of course,” she says quickly. “I just… wanted you to know how much I like you, Caesar. And how hard I’ve worked at making sure that I can be a good wife to someone like you. I would be an excellent don’s wife, I’m sure of it.”
“I am as well,” I say smoothly, looping my elbow through hers. “Let’s go dance, before the quartet wears themselves out.”
Safely back on the dance floor, we make it through another dance before I beg off for a drink. I manage to elude my potential matches for a little while, making my way through the room and talking with some of the other men, discussing business and other matters, thankfully not related to my future nuptials.
When the party starts to wind down, Isabella catches me as I’m getting ready to leave. Her hand touches my arm, lingering, and I can see the hopeful look in her eyes.
"I hope we'll see each other again soon," she says softly, giving me a look that, to any other man, would be utterly alluring.
I manage a smile. “I’m sure we will,” I tell her, and then slip out to collect my car from the valet.
The drive back to the penthouse gives me time to think, and none of my thoughts are pleasant. Isabella is everything Konstantin wants me to choose to prove my commitment to this life—pedigreed, compliant, bred for exactly this kind of life. She would never question my decisions or challenge my authority, never get in my way or be overly needy.
She would also bore me to death within a month. I’m sure of that.
