Page 19 of Forbidden Vows

At least our parents had divorced by then, so we weren’t related at that time.

I have only a few days left here in New York, and then I’m back to the real world, my responsibilities, and the beautiful Italian estate by the lakeside where I now live. I’llreturn to work, put these few days of partying behind me, and push my feelings for Cleo down.

Always there. Always simmering just below the surface. Always under my control.

I almost lost myself in that kiss. I wanted to do so much more to her than touch her. I wanted to taste her—everywhere. When she left the hotel, I refused to wash my hands until necessary, bringing my hand to my face every so often to inhale the intoxicating perfume that is her.

I’m going to miss teasing Cleo. It’ll be a while before Ma pulls another stunt to bring me back to the city.

Haze and I have a good thing going in Italy. I didn’t know I had a half-brother until a few years ago, and I can’t seem to get enough time with him. I’m the unashamed Labrador puppy at his feet, following him everywhere he goes.

He’s a good man, and I’d do well to follow in his footsteps. However, I won’t be getting married. Only one girl on this Earth could ever captivate my attention for eternity.

Speak of the angel and she shall fall from heaven. Looking every bit as glorious as the sun-streaked heavens above, they sing her praise.

She wears a cute little blue dress with short, lacy sleeves that flutter at her shoulders.

Please tell me Ma didn’t ask the family of every man she married.

Cleo turns to me. I’m caught off guard by the low-cut sweetheart neckline I hadn’t noticed earlier. My favoritepair of boobs are on elegant display. My cock aches.Don’t stare at her chest.

Do not stare at those beautiful breasts.

I rise from the pew to greet her, offering her a smile as I call out her name. “Cleopatra. My queen.”

She startles when she sees me, instantly blushing in a way only I can make her. Sometimes, when I’m falling asleep at night, I fantasize about making that rose color come to her cheeks. I make her blood rush; that’s one thing she can’t deny.

“Oh, hey!” Her brow furrows. “Wait—what are you doing here? My dad invited me…”

Her words trail off, and we stare at one another. A beat later, we come to the same realization.

“Here comes the bride,” I sing off-key. “Again.”

Moaning, she buries her face in her hands and gives a muffled cry. “No way. They cannot remarry!”

Massive life changes with no warning are Cleopatra’s nightmare—her absolute version of hell. “Hey, good news! We’ll be stepsiblings again?”

“No!” she whines. “We can’t go through another Sharon-Falcon breakup. Do you know how much meat he went through? He ate enough pastrami sandwiches to feed a small village.”

I’d be offended, but I assume she is more upset at our parents' irresponsibility than at being related to me again.

I think.

I hope.

“Hey, it’s notthatbad. Right?”

“What could make them think that when their marriage didn’t work the first time, it will work now?” She briefly eyes my white shirt. “Hey. Did you do that yourself?”

“Yeah. Once upon a time, a little cutie taught me how to iron.”

“I don’t know about the cute part, but nice work.”

“I also had one of those vitamin-packed protein shakes you recommended for breakfast when we lived together.”

“Did you? I guess something good came out of us being related after all.” She smiles approvingly, that warm, pretty grin that makes me feel like the ground softens beneath my feet. It quickly turns sour. “You have got to talk some sense into them before your mom and my dad…” Her words trail off, and her gaze wanders.

Ma is choosing this moment to breeze over so smoothly it appears there’s a damn escalator hiding beneath her.

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