“I-I hope you weren’t t-too worried, husband. I should have left you a note, but I was scatterbrained this afternoon.” Merissa’s tinny laugh confirmed my theories. I narrowed my eyes, intrigue dousing the flame of anger eating at my insides. I threaded my arm through hers and gave it a warning squeeze.
“Can you spare her for a little longer? We can easily find a place for you at the table?” I offered, and she became as stiff as a wooden board. Lanton smiled like a shark, rubbing his hands together. The kitchen narrowed, the press of bodies too much in the small space. Merissa’s obvious anxiety might have affected me if I felt things as others did. But her tension rolled off me, and she seemed to realize. Clutching onto me as if I was her protector rather than her rival.
“Why not? I’m starved, and I’ve been meaning to speak to Romeo.” He flicked his fingers at Merissa, and she drifted over to him, trembling as he reached down and gripped her jaw. His meaty fingers dug into the delicate skin. “We will discuss your leaving the house later.”
I darted ahead of them, informing the milling staff of the need to set two more places at the table. I’d thrown togetherthis dinner party with a careless flair, stuffing the long table with overflowing flowers from the garden. It was the only part of the night I had focused on. The menu, the napkin colors, the cushions on the chairs had all been courtesy of Maria. She knew what Romeo liked, far better than I ever would. When I entered the dining room, everyone else was seated, engaged in easy conversation. The small entrée plates were only just being cleared, and nobody stared at me over long as I walked to the end of the table. Romeo had a tightness around his eyes, his fingers pinching his silver cutlery. I wondered what sugar-threaded lies Romeo spun for the crowd of people. He would have set them all at ease, his charm immediate and palpable. I was paranoid about everyone and even I fell for it. This consolation prize, a dinner party he urged me to throw, rubbed against my skin like sandpaper.
“You can squeeze them in here.” I motioned at the right-hand side of Romeo, asking the other occupants to shift down. They frowned until they saw who entered and hurried to make room. Romeo choked on his current mouthful, fingers reaching to latch onto my wrist.
“What have you done?” he urged me for an answer with a furious whisper and biting grip.
I pried his fingers off, leaning over to brush his cheek with a kiss. I wish I could have laced my lips with poison, watch as it sank into his smooth skin. A shadow of stubble darkened his jaw. My lips tingled as if he had poisoned me, the sensation fluttered as it anchored in my stomach.
“Cleaning up your mess, husband,” I whispered and welcomed Lanton and Merissa as they took their seats. Lanton spread his thighs, letting his muscular bulk press against his wife. She ducked her head, stifling a flinch.
“My boy, you’ve been hard to get a hold of these days,” Lanton’s voice boomed, and Merissa shrunk in her seat. All signsof the confident, sensual woman were gone. Swallowed by the orbit of her hulking husband. She picked up a fork as a main dish of creamy pasta primavera was laid in front of her. It tumbled out of her trembling fingers. She cut her husband a panic-flared look as she snatched it up again. Lanton didn’t notice, focused on Romeo.
“Dad keeps me busy; you know how it is,” Romeo replied offhand.
“I sure do, Matteo tells me all,” Lanton said, stabbing at his pasta. Raw, unfettered hatred passed over Romeo’s face. The killing kind. He must truly care for Merissa to despise her husband so deeply. A sharp knife’s edge of pain scored my insides. Flaring hot with an emotion I didn’t want to claim at all. Jealousy. He’d married me knowing he would never love me, and now I was sitting at a table with his true heart’s desire. How hard it must be for him. To see his lovely mistress mauled by a man double her age. Any appetite I had fled. My stomach turned at the thought of eating.
“Where is Matteo?” Lanton noted the intimate table, perplexed as Romeo had been by the mix of guests. In a fit of temper, I had chosen the strangest pairings of people I knew. Determined for the dinner party to be as discordant as my insides. I’d invited our own staff to dine at our table. Ernie was deep in conversation with a lady at the end, his lovely wife beaming beside him.
“This is party for a few of our closest friends,” Romeo muttered, freezing as if he realized what he had admitted. Lanton’s thick eyebrow jumped up, especially as he recognized someone he knew.
“Bruno, long time. How’s the leg treating you?” He shoved his glass in the air, guffawing as a burgundy drop lurched out. Bruno had been one of Romeo’s only additions to the dinner party, and I didn’t miss the way Paolo inhaled next to me. Bruno staredin silence before inclining his head. His lips were bloodless, smashed tight together. His throat bobbed as he laid his napkin over his half-eaten plate. When he pushed back from the table, tension turned his limbs stiff.
“He still hasn’t gotten over what Lanton did to him.” Paolo’s breath misted over my ear as Bruno left the room. His jacket still hung over the back of his chair, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t return for it. Was it his pride that smarted? From his broken leg, or did Bruno still cling to the belief Lanton had something to do with his sister’s death.
“Something I said?” Lanton chuckled, stuffing a loaded fork into his mouth. Merissa didn’t react, her painted blush the only color on her face. Lanton’s thigh pressed insistently against her, and she swayed in the opposite direction as much as she could without her discomfort being obvious. Romeo’s reproachful glare burned into my cheeks as if what had transpired was my fault.
As if I would choose to share a dinner with his mistress. My appetite soured, and I pushed my food around on the plate for the rest of the night. The conversation was stilted, and I contributed nothing to make it flow easier. Paolo attempted to cover for me, trotting out safe, amusing stories until the guests left. I was still in a daze, staring at the table strewn with leftover food and mess, when Romeo wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. I wrenched away from him.
“Are you insane? Don’t touch me,” I hissed. His eyes narrowed as he prowled after me.
“Now, see, that was my mistake from the start. It’s too late to save you, sweetheart. I wanted to keep you ignorant, keep you pure from the darkness of this world we live in. But now you invited the devil to sit at our table. So why should I hold back any longer? I’m going to take what I wanted from the start.”
I bumped into the wall, knocking into a black framed watercolor of the countryside in spring. It was wonky as Romeo caged me with his arms. My pulse leaped in my throat.
“What are you talking about?” I shook my head. Me, sweet? My husband didn’t know me at all.
“Forget that. I need to explain what you walked in on earlier. Merissa is a past lover. I never touched her when I was courting you, nor after we were married. I don’t know why she came here tonight, but I didn’t invite her. You must understand that.”
I tilted my chin up. We were both skilled liars, and I didn’t trust anything coming from his shapely lips any longer. His chest inched closer to mine, sensing he needed to pin me in place to control me.
“She’s married,” I said. “You aided a woman in ruining her vows.”
His indignant snort rumbled through his chest, and he shook his head.
“I know you’re sheltered, but even you must know that doesn’t stop most people. Lanton Vani doesn’t deserve his wife. He’s not a good man, Anita.”
“No different from you.”Or me, I thought, but kept that truth to myself. Romeo cursed and pushed away from the wall, running his hands through his hair. He changed his mind, letting out a choked sound, his weight pressing the air from my lungs in a whoosh. His rough exhales were hot against my cheek, and I couldn’t escape his powerful scent. Sharp pepper and bold smoke jangled at my frayed nerves.
“We are nothing alike, Anita,” he growled. “That man is depraved. If you knew the things he had done.” He shook his head, inky hair obscuring his eyes.
“Why don’t you kill him for Merissa then? That’s what she wants, why she came here. Then you’ll be free to switch your arrangement. You can be married while she’s unencumberedthis time until the baby comes.” I pushed against him, but he was like brick, immovable and heavy. He slid his leg between my thighs.
“She lied. If she’s pregnant, it’s not mine.” His denial was guttural.
