Chapter Eleven
Caterina
I KNEW SOMEONE was watching me the moment I dove into the pool.
After the abortive dinner, I wanted to go to bed and sleep for a thousand years, and not have to think about anything, especially not Vincenzo Argenti.
But of course, it was too early for sleep and hunger kept me up. Maria left me a tray of food, including another glass of wine, and there wasn’t any reason not to eat it so I did. I drank the wine too, since why not? My father left me to die and getting tipsy seemed the least of my problems.
Except, I still wasn’t tired, and I was hot, and from my bedroom window I could see the pool.
It looked so inviting. I didn’t want to hunt around for a swimsuit in that wardrobe full of clothes, bought for a woman who isn’t me, and since there appeared to be no armed guards directly near the pool, I went straight there and unzipped my dress.
It was only once I was in the water that I felt someone’s gaze on me.
I should have been afraid, I suppose, but I knew it couldn’t be an intruder since the security at the villa is insane. Which meant it could only be one of the guards and if so, then I wanted him to know that I knew he was there.
The water is cool on my skin and it feels wonderful to float in it weightless, with my eyes closed, free in the darkness.
We had a small pool at our house in Rome and I spent a lot of time in it.
Floating in the water with my eyes shut was the closest I ever got to actually feeling free, with no expectations pulling me under, nothing tying me down.
But here someone is watching, disturbing my peace, and I don’t like it.
I stay in the water with my eyes closed, hoping whoever it is flees in shame, but instead I hear footsteps coming down the stone stairs from the terrace. Unhurried footsteps. Whoever it is, is not at all bothered by the fact that I spotted them.
I keep my eyes firmly shut, showing them I don’t care who it is, and I’m not bothered either, but I keep listening until the footsteps come to one end of the pool and stop.
‘I should call you sirena instead of gattina,’ a deep, dark male voice says. ‘Since you’re floating in the water like a mermaid.’
Every muscle in my body tenses, my heartbeat accelerating, and I stop floating, opening my eyes to see Vincenzo Argenti standing down one end of the pool, his arms folded across his broad chest, his silver-grey gaze resting on me.
‘What are you doing here?’ I demand without thinking.
‘I live here,’ he says, infuriatingly. ‘Where else would I be?’
I experience the ridiculous urge to splash him, get water all over his perfectly tailored black clothes, but that would be childish and I’m not a child, not anymore. ‘I mean, why were you watching me?’ I glare at him furiously. ‘It’s creepy.’
He lifts one shoulder, unbothered by the accusation. ‘I saw some movement by the pool area so I came to investigate. I didn’t want to disturb your swim.’
‘And you thought watching me from the safety of a bush was better?’
His expression remains neutral. ‘I wanted to make sure you didn’t drown.’
Something is in the air between us again, that electricity, that tension. The one that made me leave the dinner table so quickly just before, that makes my mouth dry and my skin tight. In the cool water my nipples are hardening and I’m very aware of a nagging, throbbing ache between my thighs.
I can’t pretend I don’t know what it is, not now. I know exactly what it is.
You want him.
I do. I don’t understand how or why, but the fact remains that I do.
He doesn’t move, but his gaze moves over me and there’s something in it that makes my breath catch. Something hot. I should feel vulnerable here in the water wearing only my underwear, while he’s standing on the side of the pool fully dressed and towering over me, yet I don’t.
That glitter in his eyes is definitely heat.
He likes looking at you half-naked.
And I realise that I like him looking. It feels good to know that while my father might have thrown me away, this man likes what he sees and he wants me.
So I stare back, feeling the tension pull tight, watching the heat in his eyes build higher and higher, and he’s letting me see it. He’s showing it to me.
A tremor goes through me, like a small earthquake, a key turning in a lock, an understanding I wasn’t ready for even a mere few hours ago. But for some reason I’m ready now.
I’ve been a pawn in Giovanni Salvatore’s games for so long, yet in this pool, with the Wolf of Sicily watching me, I don’t feel like a pawn. I don’t feel like the unloved and unwanted child of an unloving man.
With him watching, I feel like a queen.
A certain power flows through me, a power I’ve never experienced before, and I realise something else.
He’s staying right where he is. He’s dangerous—so dangerous—yet he’s not leaping into the water to grab me.
He’s not doing anything at all to compel me.
He’s only standing on the side of the pool, watching.
I lift my hands to my wet hair, pushing it back from my face, knowing that as I do, the wet fabric of the sports bra pulls tight across my breasts. He watches me doing that too, the burn in his eyes getting brighter.
‘Well,’ I say husikly. ‘Here I am. Undrowned.’
‘I can see that. Why did you leave our dinner so suddenly?’
The water is cool, but even so, I can feel my cheeks flushing. He knows why, I can see it in his face. ‘I think you know the answer already,’ I say, not willing to give him the answer quite yet. Wanting to revel in my power a little longer.
He smiles, his beautiful mouth curving, all sensual heat, and my pulse starts to race. ‘Come now, gattina. Surely you can say it aloud?’
I’ve never been attracted to anyone before, still less a man like him, and naturally, sex was never a topic of conversation.
So I have no experience, none at all. But along with that power, another feeling threads through me, as if a heavy weight is lifting.
I’m here in the pool, married to this incredibly dangerous, beautiful man.
My father has chosen his pride over me, which makes me officially free of him.
I don’t have to be a good Salvatore daughter anymore.
I don’t have to be obedient and quiet, only to be seen and not heard.
Right now, right here, I’m not free—or at least not free the way I want to be—but I’m not bound by my name. I have a different one now. I’m Caterina Argenti, and I can be whoever I want to be.
‘Perhaps I don’t want to say it first,’ I murmur, a heady little thrill going through me as I realise that I’m flirting with him. ‘Perhaps I want you to say it.’
The smile that plays around his mouth is intoxicating, as are the silver sparks glittering in his eyes. ‘If you come closer, I can show you instead.’
Oh yes, definitely we’re flirting, and it’s one hell of a rush. Maybe it’s the champagne, or maybe it’s the relentless pull of his charisma, but I can’t help moving slowly through the water towards him, coming closer.
He crouches gracefully at the side of the pool, watching me as my pulse thumps in my head. I’m not afraid, even though this man has stalked my nightmares for years. Even though he kidnapped me and forced me to marry him.
He’s not a nightmare anymore. He’s a fever dream.
I stop at the edge of the pool, looking up at him. ‘Well? I’m here. Show me then.’
For a minute he’s still, then he reaches to gently grip my jaw in his strong fingers, lifting my chin.
The pressure of his fingertips sends hot little sparks of electricity streaking through me, and in some dim corner of my brain, a part of me shouts a warning.
This man is dangerous in ways I can’t begin to comprehend, so should I be getting so close to him? Should I let him touch me like this?
But I ignore the warnings, choosing instead to look up into his eyes and seeing the heat there, bright flames of desire, and knowing that I’m the one doing this to him. I’m the one making him want.
‘Are you ready?’ he asks, still playing the game.
But I’m sick of games, so I put my hands on the side of the pool and push myself up, kissing him full on his beautiful, cruel mouth just as a mermaid would.
I stay there only an instant, feeling the press of his mouth on mine, the warmth and surprising softness of his lips, and I hear the sudden intake of his breath. He wasn’t expecting me to do that, was he? I’ve shocked him, and a surge of adrenaline goes through me.
I push myself back, coming down into the water, moving slowly away, watching him, wanting to see what I did to him.
Perhaps I’m not quite done with proving my power over him after all.
He’s still crouching by the side of the pool, motionless, and his smile is gone. His eyes blaze like a magnesium flare, and the raw heat in them is the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever seen.
‘What were you going to show me again?’ I ask, taunting him, my voice breathless.
‘Gattina.’ There’s a rough note in the word. ‘You are very naughty.’
‘It’s true.’ I lift my hands to my hair once again, and give a sensual little stretch. ‘I was the despair of my father.’
‘Come here,’ the Wolf orders softly. ‘Or perhaps I’ll come there.’
Oh, he’s even more dangerous now, issuing orders like he means me to obey them.
But I like it. It feels as if I’m playing with a tiger and at any moment he’ll turn from a house cat into a predator, and there won’t be anything I can do to stop it.
It’s exhilarating. I can’t remember the last time I felt so like… myself.
‘You won’t,’ I tell him, goading. ‘You’ll spoil all those expensive clothes.’
He rises from his crouch to his full height, all lithe, muscled grace. ‘Perhaps I won’t,’ he agrees. ‘I don’t chase women as a rule and I never chase them in a pool.’
But he’s not going to leave and a deep, feminine part of me knows that.
It’s his turn to exert his power, and I’m not immune to it.
But it’s my move now, and I want him to come to me.
I want him to chase me. So I do the most logical thing I can think of, and pull the sports bra off over the top of my head, throwing it over the side of the pool where it lands with a wet slap against the stones.
‘Suit yourself.’ I reach down and slide my purple knickers off, too. ‘Because I’m not getting out.’ I lift the bundle of wet fabric and send them over to join the bra. ‘And I like privacy when I’m swimming naked.’
The water moves like cool silk over my bare skin, but his gaze is hot and getting hotter as he sees all of me beneath the water.
I can see him too, or rather the effect I’m having on him, the long, thick outline of his cock pressing against the fly of his trousers. He’s not bothering to hide it either.
‘Are you sure you want to keep playing this game?’ he asks softly. ‘Because I’m considering taking my wedding night right now, right here.’
My mouth is dry and for a moment all I can see is him diving into the pool and catching me in his arms, pushing me against the rough stone side, his mouth on mine as he pushes the hard length of his cock into me.
Desire catches me by the throat and I’m breathless. I want that. I want that now.
‘What’s stopping you then?’ I ask, my voice only shaking a little. ‘Can’t swim?’
He doesn’t speak, staring at me. Then, pausing only a moment to get rid of his shoes and socks, he dives headfirst into the pool.
Triumph surges through me. I made him come to me. I made him chase me. But it lasts only a second, because he’s surfacing right in front of me, his palms already on my bare hips as he pulls me against him. His hands are hot even under the water, but not as hot as his mouth as it descends on mine.
I tremble as his tongue sweeps inside my mouth, kissing me like he owns me, and in that second he does.
He owns me completely. His kiss tastes of darkness and brandy, and it’s demanding.
I’ve never experienced anything like it.
I don’t know what I’m doing, but something inside me is rising, something hungry and hot, and before I understand what it is, I’m kissing him back, just as demanding as he is.
He adjusts his grip, one hand on my hip, the other pushing into my hair and closing his fingers into a fist, pulling my head back so he can deepen the kiss.
He gives no quarter, no mercy, ravaging me like the wolf he is.
I love the dark alcoholic taste of him, along with something rich and masculine that is all his own. It makes me feel like a starving animal, and I’m pressing myself against his hard, hot body before I know what I’m doing.
He growls deep in his throat and all at once, rough stone is at my back as he pushes me against the side of the pool.
Then just as I imagined it, he lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist. I’m panting, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he feasts on my mouth, one hand beneath the water as he jerks at the buttons of his trousers.
There’s nothing but demand in both of us, but even so, when the blunt head of his cock pushes into me, I have to bite down on a cry of pain.
He’s big, much bigger than I thought a man would be, and he’s pushing relentlessly inside me.
His kiss is all heat and hunger and teeth, and I’m shivering as I take him.
It hurts, but I don’t want him to stop, so I curl my legs tighter around him, my nails digging into the wet cotton of his shirt.
Then he’s moving and the pain fades, something else replaces it.
Hot, liquid pleasure. I shake even harder as he thrusts, deeper, harder, and it’s not enough.
I want more. I want to take him the way he’s taking me, rough and hard.
I want to sink my nails into his back, leave scratches on him the way I know I’ll have scratches on my back from the stone side of the pool.
I growl into his mouth and he laughs, then his teeth are sinking into my bottom lip, the sharp pain adding to the building pleasure.
‘Little wolf,’ he murmurs against my throat, his breath warm on my skin. ‘That’s what you are. Not a cat. A wolf.’ Then his teeth close on the delicate cords of my neck in a sharp nip, and I jerk in his grip. He thrusts deep at the same time, and I feel myself begin to come apart.
He snakes one hand down between us, to my clit and then he brushes it lightly and I scream against his mouth as the tight knot of pleasure explodes, making me fall apart completely in his arms. Barely aware of his rough growl as he follows me.