Page 49 of Of Oaths and Secrets

My chest tightens, but I keep my voice steady. “Then why did you end up picking me?”

Her eyes dart around, clearly uncomfortable, as she fidgets in her seat. “Do you really want to talk about this right now?”

I don’t respond. Instead, I hold her gaze, silently telling her that yes, I want to know. If she opens the door and walks inside without answering, I won’t stop her, but something between us will break. I can feel it.

She sighs, leaning back, her eyes locking with mine again, and I’m struck once more by the strength behind them.

“Because I didn’t want my mother to be right,” she finally says. “There wasn’t going to be love for him or for you. But with him, I knew I’d be miserable.”

“But not with me?”

“I didn’t think so, no.”

I don’t miss the past tense in her response.Didn’t.I wonder when I’ve already screwed this up.

“When we talked about literature,” she continues, her voice softening, “you didn’t pretend. You weren’t playing a role, and I liked that. I thought maybe… maybe you and I could have something based on respect and understanding. Not one of those great love stories people write about, but at least something amicable.”

I tilt my head, studying her. There’s a fire in her, a passion I’ve seen in glimpses, and “amicable” seems too flat for a woman like her.

“And that’s enough for you? Amicable?”

Her lips press together, and she nods. “In the life we lead? It’s better than what my parents have. Better than what most people get.”

I lean back, my eyes narrowing slightly. “Why did you lie to me the night before our wedding?”

Her cheeks flush with embarrassment, a soft pink that spreads across her skin. She waves her hand, trying to brush it off. “I wasn’t lying—not really. I was angry… maybe unfairly. With how uninterested you seemed.”

I watch her, the pink hue deepening on her face, and I realize something. She wasn’t angry because I’m some cold-hearted monster. She was angry because she thought I didn’t care at all.

And that… that changes everything.

"You thought I wasn’t interested in you?" I ask, the words coming out rougher, deeper than I intended. The truth is, I’ve beentoointerested.Toounsettled.

She shrugs, but the gesture is stiff, her voice tight. “Not that you should be. Come on, let’s forget about it. It’s all stupid.”

She reaches for the door handle, ready to escape the conversation, ready to slip away before we can delve into what’s really happening between us. But I can’t let her go, not now. I reach out, my fingers circling her wrist, stopping her movement. The moment our skin touches, it feels like something electric pulses between us, snapping the air tight.

She turns back to me, her eyes wide, and I can’t look anywhere but at her lips, soft and glistening with the hint of her lip gloss, the curve of them making my breath catch in my throat. The way her chest rises and falls a little faster than before tells me she feels it too.

“You’re beautiful, Nora Lucchese,” I say, my voice low and thick with need. I don’t let go of her wrist, pulling her just a little closer, close enough to breathe in the faint scent of her—something sweet and warm that makes my head spin.

And then I stop thinking. I stop holding back. I stop resisting. Paolo’s words echo in my mind, urging me to stop standing on the sidelines.

I lean in, and for the first time, I don’t hesitate. My lips meet hers, gently at first, tasting her softness, savoring the sweetness of her mouth. But then the kiss deepens. It becomes more. My hand slides from her wrist to cup her cheek, pulling her closer as if I’m afraid she’ll disappear if I let go. Her lips part under mine, and the heat between us ignites, the need burning between us more than I expected.

It’s a kiss filled with everything I’ve held back—all the tension, all the unspoken words, the hunger for something I didn’t even know I wanted. Her hands slide up my chest, tentative at first, but then she grips the front of my jacket, pulling me closer, matching the fire of my kiss.

Her breath hitches against my mouth, and it drives me wild. I angle my head, deepening the kiss, my tongue brushing against hers, tasting her fully. It’s hot, it’s desperate, and it’s everything I’ve been needing. She melts into me, and I lose myself in her, in the feel of her lips, the soft moan escaping her throat.

My hand slides into her hair, tilting her head just a little, needing more, always more. The feel of her skin under my fingers, the warmth of her body pressed against mine—it consumes me. Every second pulls me deeper and makes me crave more of her. The world around us fades, and it's just us, wrapped in this kiss, in this moment that feels like it was a lifetime in the making.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless, our lips still brushing, neither of us wanting to let go completely.

Her eyes flutter open, her lips swollen and glistening from the kiss, and she looks up at me like she’s as stunned as I am. Like she’s feeling everything I am, and it terrifies us both.

I press my forehead to hers, our breaths mingling in the small space between us.

“Tell me that wasn’t stupid,” I whisper, my voice hoarse with want, with need.

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