Page 53 of Between Us

She drank her water and rinsed the glass. Her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn't eaten anything since the previous morning. With a sigh, she dragged her feet to the fridge and looked inside. There were two casseroles with whatever Nika had prepared for her, but she didn't touch any of them. Grabbing a yogurt, some nuts and strawberries, she made herself a bowl of parfait.

She was almost done eating when the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway snapped her out of her lethargic state. Thinking it was Alek checking up on her—he'd done it twice that week—she finished the last of her parfait and stood. As she placed the bowl in the sink, her gaze fell on the shiny black Mercedes idling in the driveway, and her heart nearly stilled inside the cavity of her chest. Before she could compose herself, the front door opened, followed by the sound of footsteps echoing through the quiet house as they headed in her direction.

Roman paused in the doorway, stormy blue eyes finding her immediately. He was dressed casually in jeans and a white T-shirt, his cheeks darkened by a few days' worth of scruff.

Alessandra's next breath lodged in her throat. He was so handsome it hurt to look at him, and her heart bled a little more. Grabbing the countertop behind her withboth hands, she fought back tears at the sight of him.

Roman stared at her for a long moment before his jaw clenched and he looked away. When he spoke, he sounded on the verge of control. “Tell me everything.”

“Everything?” she croaked, not sure what he meant.

“Your version of the truth. I want to hear it.”

A tear fell free, and she wiped it away discreetly. “I was swimming. I didn't see him until he was seated on one of the lounge chairs, just watching me. I got out of the pool and asked him to leave, but he wouldn't listen. He told me he missed me and that he’d made a mistake when he let me go.” She watched Roman advance into the room, his gaze unseeing. He was still furious; she could feel it from ten feet away. Steeling herself for his reaction, she delivered the last piece of truth. “He asked me to run away with him.”

Roman stopped walking, his eyes flaying her alive with their intensity. “And what did you say?”

“That I wouldn't.”

“How did he know where we lived?”

“I don't know.”

He didn't look entirely convinced by her sincerity. “Was that the first time you'd seen him after our wedding?”

“Yes. I swear it.” Before she could stop herself, she had already taken two steps toward him. They were closer now, but not close enough. “I don't want Luca. I was upset when my papà told me I couldn't be his wife, but only because I didn't know you and I was scared. I never loved him.”

Roman's gaze scrutinized her face, dark and brooding, but for a fleeting moment, she could see the promise of forgiveness in his eyes. Why elsewould he come to the house after a week of staying away? Emboldened by this thought and feeling a little desperate, Alessandra closed the remaining distance between them, bare feet almost touching his black sneakers. Not giving herself enough time to change her mind, she uttered the three words she had been agonizing over from the moment he'd left.

“I love you.” She met his gaze and held it. “There is no one else for me.”

He watched her, unmoving, for what felt like a long time. Alessandra stood there frozen, fearing she might have screwed up.

Without warning, his hand shot out to grab her nape. He pulled her so close their lips were an inch apart. “Say it again,” he demanded.

“I love you, Roman,” she whispered, her eyes watering again with the confession. “Just you.”

Before she could take another breath, his mouth was crashing down on hers, rough and urgent. She opened up for him, swirling her tongue around his and moaning into their kiss. His hands grabbed her hips, lifting her up and placing her on the island top. She was still wearing her short cotton nightie, and he hunched up the material around her waist to expose the plain cotton thong underneath. The nightie's thin straps glided down her shoulders, exposing the tops of her breasts. He moved the thong to the side, wasting no time to free himself from the confines of his jeans and push inside her in one firm thrust.

Alessandra let out a breathless groan, every muscle beneath her navel tightening from the sudden intrusion. She was already wet from their kissing, but not wet enough for his impatience.

“You're mine,” he rasped, fisting her hair and pulling on it to expose her throat. “Say it.”

“Yours,” she panted, nails digging into his biceps. “Only yours.”

Pulling out, he gave her a few hard thrusts before slowing down and kissing her throat. “I'm so fucking pissed I can barely keep myself from going after that prick.”

“Please don't. You'll start a war.”

“I know,” was all he said, his mouth finding hers again. His thumb rubbed slow circles around her clit, powerful strokes increasing their pace with each passing second.

His possession of her body was exactly that. Rough, unyielding, almostviolent. Alessandra took everything he gave her, entranced by the look of volatile passion carved on his face. Before long, she felt the onset of an orgasm wash over her. As soon as she came, he pressed his forehead to her temple and spilled inside her with a harsh breath.

When they managed to catch their breaths, Alessandra straightened her nightie and stood on unsteady legs as Roman worked on his pants.

“Do you believe me?” she found herself asking quietly, watching him with apprehension.

He met her gaze, his still dark and turbulent. But when he finally answered, she nearly sagged with relief.

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