Page 49 of Vengeful Vows

“You don’t see Alessandro?”

“From time to time, but there’s about a five-year age gap between us. Of course I adore him, but we don’t have a set schedule where we see one another.”

As the brewer gurgles, he continues to regard me. “If something comes up, of course we can skip on occasion. But it matters to me.”

“That’s fine.” Then I give into my curiosity. “How many people will be there?”

“It’s small. Matteo, whom you’ve met, along with his two younger brothers. And of course the—his father. We’re also joined by Roberto, my mentor.”

So a smallish gathering.

“And once we have children, I’ll want them to grow up with their cousins.”

I soften. The idea of having his baby makes my insides quicken. “Of course.” If I have cousins, I’ve never met them.

“Family is the only thing that matters.” His words are wrapped with steel. “As you’ve already ascertained, nothing is more important to me than you and our future children.”

He’s so serious that I cock my head to one side. His words seem to echo with warning. Or is he trying to reassure me? “I agree, Marse.”

Apparently soothed, he grabs his cup and takes a drink. “We have dinner reservations.”

Neither his change of subject nor his casual announcement comes as a surprise. We now share a calendar, so he knows I don’t have any engagements this evening.

“Can you be ready to leave by six forty-five?”

That might be tight. We’re working on a high-profile case involving a billionaire who manages one of the top ten hedge funds in the world. Seems an ex-girlfriend has demanded more money than he’s prepared to offer her. In retaliation, her PR team has leaked a story that he fathered a love child with her. Our client flat-out denies that.

If it turns out that the daughter is his, there may be nothing we can do to save his reputation, no matter how much money he has.

“Little flower?” Marse prompts.

“Sorry.” I shake my head to clear it. “That should work. I may have to take a call or two.”

He nods.

Between the two of us, work interruptions are not uncommon.

“Big case? Zane Kentwood?”

I almost confirm the name before I clamp my mouth shut. “You know I can’t reveal our client list.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Laughing, I playfully punch his arm.

Fire instantly sizzles in his eyes.

I’ve learned my future husband likes things a little rough. Frightening me a little, it turns out that I do also. We’re more alike than I ever suspected.

With brute strength, he captures my wrists, pinning them behind my back and exerting pressure that forces me onto my tiptoes.

His eyes are hungry. Then he devours my mouth.

With his free hand, he raises the hem of my skirt, bunching the material at the waist. “Spread your legs.”

Though I know what’s coming, I can’t prepare for it. What he intends to do will burn like hell. And I’m so hungry for it that I intentionally provoked him.

The intense man punishes me, slapping hard between my legs.

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