21. Renata
I grow cold,naked on the bed as I am and draped in fine jewels, so I snuggle under the covers. My eyes grow heavy.
It’s been a crazy and exhausting few weeks. I’m reeling, and I can’t take it all in.
I keep smiling to myself, though. I think Matteo Mancini told me he loved me, and I love him. I know I do.
He’s a messed up, mercurial lunatic, but he’s my messed up, mercurial lunatic.
The sounds of men talking drift up the stairs, and their deep voices lull me, until the darkness takes me.
The bed is shaking. I open my eyes and jerk awake with a jolt.
“Hey, it’s okay, Renata. It’s only me.” Matteo gently brushes a strand of hair from my cheek. “You fell asleep.”
“It’s been a very tiring few days.”
“We need to talk, but it can wait until tomorrow.”
“No, now is good.”
“Renata, baby. Go to sleep.” He pulls the covers back and groans. “Damn, you look amazing draped in all that jewelry.”
I laugh softly, but it’s followed swiftly by a yawn.
Matteo shrugs his clothes off and gets into the bed behind me. His big arms come around me, and he pulls me into him. “Sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
* * *
The sun isbright and shining right on my eyelids. I yawn and blearily open my eyes, taking in Matteo’s room. He must have fallen asleep and forgotten to close the curtains.
I turn to him, and he’s rolled onto his back in the night. His face is toward me, his expression more relaxed than when he’s awake. I let myself take in his beauty.
He says there is danger out there and that I need to stay with him. He says he’s going to marry me. He says I’m his.
Those facts should all terrify me, but as I search my soul for the truth of it all, I find I feel more grounded and settled than I have in ages.
Yesterday, when I thought he was only using me, and I had my grand plan to seek revenge, there was the constant low-level nausea and hum of nerves. Now, it’s gone. For someone so unhinged, he sure does calm me down.
I snuggle up to him, and he lets out a contented half groan and nuzzles into my hair. My pussy is against his thigh, and I press against him, liking the feeling. I’m naked and still dripping in jewels. Two necklaces adorn my throat, one choker-style and the other dipping between my breasts, where the emerald sits prettily against my skin. Bracelets rests on my wrists, and there’s a ring on one hand.
Smiling to myself, I straddle Matteo and place my hands on his chest as I raise up and rub my pussy down the length of his cock. He stirs, and his eyes flicker but don’t open. His dick gets onboard before he does as it hardens.
I rub over him again, and his eyes open. For a moment, he looks up at me all sleep dazed, and then his eyes sharpen.
His gaze rakes down my body, resting on the huge emerald nestling between my heavy breasts. Reaching up, he gently tugs on it, and I smile.
“Nice way to wake up,” he murmurs.
“Do you want breakfast?” I ask all innocently.
“No,” he says. “I want you to sit on my cock.”
“Oh, well, I think that can be arranged.”
“You look like a fucking goddess,” he says as I wrap my fingers around his length.
I lift up and slide down on him, sighing in ecstasy as he fills me. This always feels so damn good.
He reaches up and pinches my nipples, pulling them and tweaking them as I ride him. God, I love my tits being played with. I can feel myself already getting close, which is insane.
I rub my pussy against his groin every time I slam down on him, giving my clit the friction it needs.
“That’s it, baby, make yourself feel good. Grind on me.”
So, I do. I grind myself on him, getting myself off.
I come with a soft cry, and he pulls my nipples as I ride out the orgasm. Sated and relaxed, I collapse against his chest as I pant for breath, and he flips me over, pulls my leg up, and pounds into me.
Holy hell. I see stars as he hits deep, making the aftershocks of my orgasm spark to life. I’m so sensitive, it’s almost too much. It’s as if just having come from stimulating my clit, that spot deep inside me is primed and ready for its own bit of the fun.
I moan and writhe under him as he works me to the point where I know I am going to fall again.
I’m scared that one of these days he’ll send me over that edge, and it will be so intense that I’ll smash into a million tiny pieces.
He groans my name, and I cry out as he comes just as I do. My eyes drift shut.
“Eyes on me,” he demands.
I snap them open, and we stare at one another as we ride the waves.
“It’s utterly dangerous that two people can be this explosive together,” I say as he gently withdraws from me. “How can anyone ever go back to normal sex after experiencing something like this?”
“Well, we won’t have to. If we get married, we will be able to have explosive sex as often as we want.”
The marriage thing again. It delights me, and it scares me. “I’m so messed up, Matteo. I don’t know if I’m a good bet.”
“Yes, you are,” he says. “But I’ll keep you on the straight and narrow.” He winks. “Plenty of sex should do it.”
“You’re an arrogant fucker,” I say.
“I’m going to take a shower. Care to join me?”
I nod, and he leads me into the bathroom. We soap one another up and explore each other’s bodies as we shower. Then he dries me gently. He grabs a bottle of body lotion from a shelf, and I frown. “That’s my body lotion, the one I use. Did you have it brought from my apartment?”
For once in his life, Matteo Mancini looks sheepish. “No. I asked my investigator to find out what brand you like.”
I blink as I look at him, taking that in. “That’s really fucked up.”
“Or, really caring.” He grins at me. “I’ll always go the extra mile to give you what you want.”
“I have two conditions.” He frowns at my words. “If you’re serious about us getting married, two conditions.”
“Okay.”
“One.” I hold up one finger. “We have a long-ish engagement.”
“How long?” he demands.
“A year.”
“Six months.”
I sigh.
“You’ll know if this is going to work or not in six months,” he says.
He’s right, so I shrug. I know how to negotiate, and my second ask is the bigger one, or I think he’ll see it that way. “Okay, six months.”
“Fine. Demand number two?” He wraps a fluffy robe around me and kisses my forehead.
“I don’t want you to hurt David. The man from the auction.”
“Ah, baby. I can’t do that.”
“No. It’s non-negotiable. I won’t have that on my conscience. He had no idea about you and me.”
“Baby,” he warns.
I hold my hand out. “Break mine.”
“What the fuck?” His face pales. “Jesus, Renata. No.”
“It’s either breaking mine, if you truly think that is a fitting punishment, or doing nothing because if you break his I will walk away. I will.”
He stares at me, his jaw gritting in annoyance, and then he sighs and rolls his eyes. “Fine.”
“No, swear it to me. Promise me.”
“I promise I won’t touch a hair on his head. Or a finger on his hand.”
“Good. Then we have a deal.”
“A deal? You see our marriage as a deal?”
“No.” I smile at him. “Although, so far it hasn’t been the most traditional or romantic of ways we’ve gone about this.”
“You’re not wrong,” he says. “That will be fixed.”
What the hell does he mean by that?
* * *
That evening,I find out what Matteo meant. I’d given his men a list of things to retrieve from my apartment, then went to have a long soak when I received a text from Matteo asking me to meet him in the formal dining room at seven pm.
Now I’m nervous, wondering what this could be about. Is he going to make me sign some sort of pre-nup? That really would ruin the romance.
I get ready, wearing a loose linen dress and no jewelry except for a pair of diamond earrings. Heading down the stairs, I hear something and pause on the last step. Is that music?
I follow the sound, and it draws me to the formal dining room. I round the corner and step inside the room and gasp.
My hands come up to my mouth as I stare into the room. The shutters are drawn, making the room dark, and it is lit entirely by hundreds of flickering candles. A chamber orchestra is playing in one corner of the room, and there is a harpist. Rose petals cover the polished wood floor, and the table is filled with food.
Matteo stands at the head of it and comes to take my hand and lead me to my seat. I sit, and we eat. The meal is wonderful, the music beautiful, the ambience breathtaking, but the entire time, I have a fizz of excitement in my belly.
When the plates are cleared away, an ice bucket is brought into the room.
There is a bottle of Krug sweating in the bucket, and I pick up the bottle, noting the vintage date. Pricey, I think.
The staff leave the room, and the only people left are me, Matteo, and the orchestra who are playing something beautiful which I don’t recognize.
Matteo stands and walks around to where I’m sitting. He takes something out of his pocket and fluidly drops to one knee.
Oh my God. This is really happening.
He flips open the box, and I gasp. The ring is stunning. A shining, astonishing cluster of stones, in the most exquisite setting.
“Renata Andretti. I’m not a man who kneels for anyone, but I kneel for you. I swear to you that I will protect you and love you. Will you do me the very great honor of being my wife?”
“Yes,” I gasp as the tears fill my eyes.
He grins as he stands and takes the ring out of the box. He places it carefully on my ring finger, and I stare at the astonishing way it catches the light.
“This ring has been in my family since before the first world war,” he says. “My father didn’t use it when he proposed to my mother, because he believed she’d prefer something new. It was passed down to me, and until now, I never felt there was anyone worthy of wearing it.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say in awe of its intricacy.
“It is, but it’s not as beautiful as you. Sadly, no jewel could ever equal you, but this is the best I could do.”
He pulls me to my feet. “So … yes?” he asks as he looks deep in my eyes.
“Yes,” I say, nodding.
He pulls me up into his arms and kisses me.
I kiss him back as the orchestra begins to play the wedding march.
We break apart, and I giggle. “We should tell our families. Who would have thought we’d ever get here? An Andretti and a Mancini.”
“It was always fated to be, just life got in the way for a while. You belong to me now, Renata, and I belong to you. I love you. You’re my person.”
And with those words, Matteo Mancini goes a very long way to healing the hole in my soul from years of always feeling as if I was never truly wanted or loved.
“I love you too,” I say.
He kisses me again, and a slow clap behind us has us breaking off the kiss. Clifford is watching. “I guess congratulations are in order,” he says.
“Yes,” Matteo replies.
“Well then, congratulations.” He walks over to us and pulls me into an embrace. “Welcome to the family, Renata. Just so you know...”
I wait, thinking he’s going to say he’ll never approve.
“I defend our family and will lay my life down for any of them, and that now includes you. You ever need me, Renata, just call.” Then Clifford kisses my hand and steps back.
“I suppose there’s going to be a wedding to organize.” He rubs at his cheek.
I nod.
He glances at the ground and then back at me. “Would you do me a personal favor and let my partner be involved? He loves that kind of thing.”
“Of course,” I say happily. “I’d be happy to.”
Matteo puts his arm around me, and the warmth and protection I feel from his embrace is all I ever wanted. Who knows how my life will play out, but I am sure it will be better with having him by my side for the journey.
We started out as mortal enemies, and now we’re in love.
It couldn’t be more perfect.