Page 96 of Velvet Cruelty

“What happened?”

I raise my palms and close them over her breasts, squeezing her lightly.

She squirms. “Mr. Morelli…”

As soon as I hear that wild, desperate note in her voice, I drop my hands. I’m no horny teenager. If January is to be mine, she needs to learn these games will go on as I see fit. That she cannot control me with her body any more than she could control me with tears.

“My parents met on a holiday in Borneo. My mother was engaged to an Earl and my father, Vincent Morelli, was a financial investor. It was love at first sight. Three days after they met, my mother gave back her ring and my father handed her his.”

January’s eyes shine like stars. “Wow. So, they got married?”

“They did. My mother’s family were furious. My Nonno threw her out of the house.”

She gapes at me. “But the Morellis are one of the richest families in New York!”

“True, but to my Nonno, all American money was new money.” Her incredulous look makes me smile. “My mother came to live with my father in Manhattan. They were married and a year later I was born.”

“Did they have a big, beautiful wedding?”

“They did. Then they had a short, unhappy marriage.”

“Why?”

“My mama was used to travel, to diamonds, to writing cheques without thinking. My father was wealthy, but he wasn’t an Earl. After I was born mama patched things up with Nonno and took me back to Naples and lived in his household for weeks on end. Sometimes she wouldn’t even tell my father she was leaving. He would just come home from work and find us gone.”

“She kidnapped you?”

I snort. “Don’t be melodramatic, bella. She always returned to New York. Not that it did any good. After my sisters were born, things got worse.”

January gapes at me. “How?”

“It just did. My father loved my mama, but he couldn’t make her happy. They separated not long after my brother was born.”

“Oh.” January lifts her glass and takes a deep swallow of wine.

I raise my knee, jostling her. “Did I disappoint you? Do you want to think love conquers all?”

She doesn’t smile. “Do think your parents’ marriage would have been better if your father had a mistress?”

“I think people should be rational about what makes marriage work.”

“And have you ever been married?”

I frown. Sass is one thing, impudence is another. “No, and neither have you, Miss Whitehall.”

January holds her tongue. I shift my hand to her abdomen, feeling her flat belly tense beneath her dress. “Are you so sure you don’t want to live here and play mistress, bella?”

“Do you mean to you? Or to… all four of you?”

I rub my cheek against hers, stroking her silky skin with my stubble. “Does it matter?”

“I guess. I thought you wanted me all to yourself?”

“I did, but seeing how happy you made my brothers tonight, I’m considering other options.”

January finishes her wine.

Amused, I take the glass and put it on the table. “Is that a ‘yes?’”

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