Page 34 of The Convenient Cosentino Wife

Her letter to him was supposed to arrive today, after she’d departed, not before. Clare put a hand to her head, feeling it throb. Nothing was working out the way she wanted. Why?

“Are you well?” Rocco asked, his voice low, his tone surprisingly gentle, but then, Adriano was snuggling on his lap as if they were lifelong friends.

“Are you furious?” She asked, answering his question with a question of her own. She didn’t like anger. Her father had been prone to terrible outbursts, rages that made everyone around him cower. It had been a relief to move to Europe, away from the rage and outbursts from a man who enjoyed his own temper tantrums.

“Not furious, and not upset, just sorry you felt it necessary to run away from me. Rather than a note, I wish you would have talked to me. Wish you could have talked to me,” he corrected.

Clare swallowed and glanced out the window to the tarmac. “I didn’t know what to say.” She looked back at him. “It seemed an easier thing to write, less emotion, less drama—”

“I’d argue that running away has a certain element of drama to it.”

His tone was mild, and amused, and Clare blushed because there were other reasons she’d run away, reasons she couldn’t admit. Rocco exerted such a strange power over her. She didn’t want to be drawn to him, didn’t want the attraction and curiosity, but when near him, her body overrode her head. She wanted to be strong, wanted to resist him and the only way she could do that was if there was distance between them.

If he didn’t come for her.

If he didn’t fight for her.

“Do you really want to go to California?” he asked, black eyebrow lifting.

“No,” Adriano said firmly. He leaned forward and looked his mother in the eye. “We want to stay here with Zio Rocco.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

EVERYTHINGWASHAPPENINGquickly now, too quickly. Clare’s head spun. She wanted to slow time down, wanted to slow Rocco down, but now that she’d agreed to marry him, he’d put the wheels in motion, and they were turning. Spinning.

The late September weather was perfect for a wedding, not that there would be guests who had to worry about traveling to attend a wedding. It would just be the family and the staff, but still, a wedding deserved a blue sky and sunshine.

The wedding was to be held in the Cosentino family’s chapel at the family’s ancestral home, a historic palazzo, in Rome. The chapel had been decorated with garlands of flowers, pale pink and dark pink roses with delicate orchids. Clare had left all of the wedding plans to Rocco’s assistant, as she couldn’t bring herself to plan another wedding, especially one which would see her become a Cosentino, just not the right wife to the right Cosentino. But for the sake of Adriano they’d agreed to make it picture-perfect, and so it was a grand wedding on a very intimate scale.

Her wedding gown was the palest pink. Just as she couldn’t bring herself to plan another wedding, Clare couldn’t bring herself to wear white, not after having a son, not after burying her love. Instead of a traditional white dress, she wore a stunning couture gown with a full chiffon skirt and a fitted bodice with the most delicate cap sleeves. In the soft pink gown she felt as if she were a butterfly about to fly away. If only she could fly away.

Even though the wedding ceremony was small, it was a proper ceremony, and long, at least to Clare it seemed long, and she felt faint at one point, the warmth in the chapel and the fragrant flowers making her dizzy.

She’d glanced at Adriano who stood next to Rocco, and sternly she reminded herself that this was for him. Adriano would be protected. He’d have two of them to watch out for him, and two of them to love him, and should life become difficult, two to fight for him.

But then her eyes met Rocco’s silver gaze and she couldn’t breathe. It was too much, too quickly. Her mouth dried and her lips parted and she wanted to run away, run—

Rocco reached out, putting a hand on her lower back. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head, tears filling her eyes.

He held up a hand to the priest, halting him midsentence, midservice. “You don’t have to do this,” Rocco said quietly, supporting her weight as her legs were trembling like mad. “We can stop this right now.”

She couldn’t look away from his eyes. She could see his concern, and feel it, too. “Do you mean that?” she answered huskily.

“Absolutely. I want to marry you, if it’s what you want to do. But if it’s not, we stop and just let it go.”

Clare glanced down at Adriano waiting so patiently at Rocco’s side. Clare might not love Rocco, but Adriano did. She couldn’t disappoint her son, not when he was so happy to have found family. And truthfully, this wasn’t even about love anymore. There were so many other emotions, so many other conflicting feelings...desire, fear, attraction and more.

She craved things she couldn’t articulate, craved power and pressure, heat and sensation. She wanted to be wanted. She wanted to be touched. She wanted to be seduced. But it was also rather terrifying as she’d never felt these intense needs and wants with Marius. Marius never made her ache...or crave.

“It’s just warm in here,” she said, pushing away the thoughts, refusing to feel guilty for wanting something she’d never known, wanting heat to make her melt and burn. “I’m fine.” Her voice shook and she added more firmly, “I’ll be fine, I promise. Let’s continue, please.”

Twenty minutes later the ceremony was over and the photographer posed them, requesting they stand with the priest, then with the witnesses who were Ava and Gio, and then it was the three of them, Rocco, Clare and Adriano, and finally, it was just her and Rocco.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat as he faced her, both her hands in his, and looked down into her eyes. He didn’t smile, even though the photographer kept trying to get a smile from them. But his gaze wasn’t icy. She didn’t know what was in his eyes, only there was no ice, and nothing cruel. Determination, yes. Pride, yes. Possession, possibly? It crossed her mind that he was glad she’d become his wife—

Adriano suddenly flung himself at Clare’s legs, laughing as he escaped Ava’s hand that had been trying to keep him in place.

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