Sweet Temptation by Cora Reilly

Wine glass still clutched in her hand, she allowed me to lead her away.
Again, we didn’t talk. I considered saying something reassuring, but the truth
was there was nothing to say, and I wasn’t a man for those kinds of words
anyway.
Giulia took a sip of her wine. She was on her fifth glass—at least.
“What did your mother say?” I asked to fill the tense silence between us as
we took the elevator up to our suite for the night. The door slid open, and we
stepped out.
Another sip. I stopped and took the glass from her. If she was intoxicated, I’d
have to fake those fucking bloodstains after all. “That’s enough.”
“It’s ginger ale.”
I took a sip from the glass, surprised.
Giulia fumbled with the tiny white purse slung over her shoulder. “I only had
one glass of sparkling wine at the reception. I didn’t want to be drunk.” Those
big blue eyes hit me.
“What did your mother say?” I asked again, leading her the rest of the way to
the suite. I unlocked the door.
Giulia pursed her lips. “That I should please you and try to mask my
inexperience.” She let out a huff. “Right now, I’m just trying not to pass out from
fear.”
Her eyes widened.
I opened the door and motioned for Giulia to go in. I followed and then we
were alone in our suite. The living area was vast with two sofas and a dining
table, where I set down her glass. It wasn’t a room we’d use, but it was custom to
take the biggest suite of the hotel even if all we required was a bedroom. I
looked down at my young wife, who’d just been vulnerably honest with me.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Giulia. We have all night.”
Giulia glanced around, her eyes lingering on the door to the left leading to
our bedroom. “Do you think drawing it out will make it better?”
I wasn’t sure what would help Giulia. “Tell me what would help ease your
fears.”
She considered that. “If it felt like I had a choice.”
“You have a choice,” I said, stepping close to her.
“Do I?” she whispered, peering up at me. “Will you really allow me a
choice?”
I wanted her to have a choice. But I wouldn’t show weakness, not in front of
Luca, not after I’d already displayed such during our meeting. He wouldn’t have
reason to doubt me. Not even my wife’s pretty face and her cute smile could
soften my resolve. But a nonexistent choice could still feel like a choice.
“I know what’s expected, Cassio. I know what it would mean for you and my
father if we don’t present sheets in the morning.” She swallowed.
I touched her arm, feeling her warmth seep through the thin fabric. “Then
make it your choice.”
She searched my eyes. “Okay,” she said quietly.