Page 47 of Sins of Bliss

But we’ve been robbed of what should be the happiest day of our lives.

Lifting his gaze, he looks behind me at Raina.

“If I may speak with the bride for a moment…alone,” he requests with such poise, it leaves no room for argument.

Raina lifts her arms before bringing them back down to pat the sides of her thighs. “Let me change really fast.”

She winks at me as she goes back to the en suite and shuts the door behind her. It barely clicks into place before I’m spinning back toward Sly.

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes blaze with confidence as he leans forward and kisses me softly. As he pulls away, his thumb brushes my cheek. “Convincing you to marry me instead.”

“I hope you can,” Raina mumbles, emerging from the bathroom, and not slowing as she sees herself out.

Once alone, Sly’s lips descend on mine again, not giving me a moment to respond. Not that it matters, because the moment his lips touch mine, I’m completely under his spell.

His kiss starts off slowly, but quickly ignites my blood. Warm tingles radiate over my body, desire instantly pooling between my thighs as he tangles his hand through the curls of my hair.Cupping the base of my skull, he presses his thumb against it to tilt my head back, deepening the kiss.

A groan vibrates through him, and I eagerly match it with my own.

I feel himeverywhere, yet the only place he’s touching is my head.

The magnitude of his presence shocks me to my core. I hadn’t realized how badly I craved him until his skin touched mine. But I know this is fleeting. Only for a few moments.

Pulling away, I break the kiss and allow my forehead to rest against his. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Yet, there’s nowhere else I could imagine being.”

“It’s my wedding day,” I argue, forcing myself to stay strong.

“Sì, and witnessing you in this gown is doing something to me, Vincenza. I have dreamed of this day a million times, and it is clear the fantasy did not do the reality justice.”

A whimper catches in my throat and I close my eyes. With a strained voice, I admit, “I’ve dreamed of it, too.”

“Piccola ladra, I understand that there are things you are not telling me, but I need you to understand something as well. I will doeverythingin my power to protect you. What do I have to do to get you to call the wedding off?”

“Ican’t, Sly.”

I expect him to argue—to fight back like he has with every other conversation—but he doesn’t this time. We’ve gone around in circles so much, and it makes me weaker, my resolve crumbling little by little with every heated conversation.

This time though, his eyes simply search mine, and I can see the moment something clicks into place for him. His demeanor changes—the light in his eyes dims.

It feels like a bullet to the heart.

“Very well,” he says, nodding once. His tone is colder than it was before, a little more detached.

It breaks another piece of me.

Sliding his hand down my sleeve, he takes mine and gently tugs me over to the white tufted couch in the center of the room, guiding me to stand in front of it. Neither of us sits, but he drags his hungry eyes up and down my body again, and my stomach tumbles.

Sly’s fingers graze across the intricate lace flowers near my breasts. He takes his time, moving around me to take in every last detail. Bracing his hands on my hips, he turns me so we’re both facing away from the couch, my back to his front.

A chill runs through me as his lips ghost the side of my ear, his warm breath against the sensitive skin.

I’m hypersensitive to his every movement and touch, my body begging for more of it. The thin fabric of my panties rubs against me as I shift on my legs, the friction almost too much as my heart races and I wonder what he’s going to do or say next.

“Sei assolutamente stupendo.” Though I don’t understand his native tongue, when he speaks, my knees weaken with his words, and I know I’m lost to him—a willing captive in the tortuous web he’s weaving in an effort to get me to call off the wedding.

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