Page 59 of Twisted Embrace

I noticed the look Mattia tossed toward my soon to be husband, but his word seemed genuine.

“My lovely bride to be has been hindered from understanding our culture. In addition, she’s had a difficult two days.” Enzo’s words were stilted, weary.

“Yes, I’m certain you both have. Maria will show you to your quarters.”

I noticed the woman standing at the top of the steps and moved away from the brooding men, taking them two at a time. “Hi. I’m Joy. I understand you’re Maria. Do you mind showing me to my room? I promise I won’t bother you again.”

The older woman seemed confused by my words and I reminded myself that she might not speak English.

“Oh, shit. Eh… roome. Gracia.”

She narrowed her eyes at the way I butchered the beautiful language, the coldness in them exactly like almost everyone else.

Suddenly, a strong arm was slipped around my waist, Enzo’s scent of sweet, blood, and sandalwood trickling into my nostrils.

“Perdona il mio ospite. Non capisce la nostra lingua,” he told her.

The woman glared at me again, nodding once then turning abruptly and leading us into the inside of the house.

“What did you say to her?”

He kept his firm hold as we trailed behind her. “I asked her forgiveness since my guest doesn’t know our beautiful language. You will need to learn.”

“Does that mean you will teach me?”

He chuckled, throwing a look down at me. I suddenly felt a small child being admonished for yet another bad deed. As the woman led us through the house and up a flight of curved stairs, I continued to marvel at the architecture and incredible designs. The stunning wrought-iron railing was covered in ornate vines and flowers similar to what hung from the trellis. With the floors reminiscent of Versailles-patterned limestone, hand-hewn solid wooden beams and dazzling crystal chandeliers mastering the three floors of the stairway, it felt as if I was in a palace meant for a queen.

Maria said nothing as she moved to a double set of doors, unlocking them and standing back. “La tua camera da letto è alla fine del corridoio.”

“Grazi,” he said.

“What did she say?”

He waited until she’d left before closing the open door, pressing his hand against the small of my back as he guided me toward the end of the hallway. When he opened another set of doors, I was equally shocked at the interior. He remained behind me, his presence still hovering over me.

“She mentioned this was our suite.”

“This entire place is incredible.” The room was larger than my apartment in New York, the entire space reeking of opulence. There were three sets of French doors leading out to what appeared to be a beautiful balcony, a set of floor-to-ceiling windows covering a portion of another side. A four-poster bed draped in a violet comforter and several pillows was covered in a sheer canopy, the light gauze adding a hint of romance.

Off to one side was a lovely sitting area with rich off-white leather, a colorful rug positioned underneath covering a portion of the dark stained wood. Two doors likely led to a bathroom and walk-in closet.

I headed toward the open set of doors, moving onto the balcony. Another ornate railing allowed a panoramic view of a secluded portion of the estate, a lagoon-style pool surrounded by a bank of trees and rolling hills in the distance. From where I stood, I couldn’t see the other wings of the house. The day was almost cloudless as I’d imagined the day of my wedding so long ago.

When I heard Enzo’s footsteps behind me, I tensed. He pressed his body to mine, his hard cock pushing against my bottom. Then he wrapped his hand around my throat, using his thumb to stretch my neck.

His hold was entirely different than before, so possessive that a trickle of fear skittered down my spine. He lowered his head, using his jaw to slide my loose curls from in front of my ear. The few seconds of nuzzling was followed by a dart of his tongue into the shell. Then he issued a dark whisper that kept me tingling all over.

“While I appreciate your vote of confidence from earlier, do not ever challenge either myself or another member of the regime ever again. Do you understand me, my lovely bride?”

The tone of his voice had dipped lower, so much so that the whisper seemed harsh. When I said nothing at first, he tightened his hold, squeezing as he pressed his thumb into my skin.

“Do I need to teach you another lesson?”

“No, sir. I understand.”

“Mmm…” He blew into my ear, creating a wave of longing so intense the feel of material against my nipples forced me to shudder. “Good girl.” He slid his other hand down my side, crawling his fingers underneath the hem of my dress. The touch of his fingers was electrifying, pulling on my breath. While he kept his hold on my throat, he brushed his thumb back and forth across my lips. With every swipe, his actions became rougher, intensifying the array of emotions sweeping through me.

He had a way of making me feel lightheaded, stars floating in front of my eyes. I gripped the railing, certain I’d fall if he hadn’t been holding me.

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