Cursed

Hurt, Isobel glared at him with tears in her eyes.

 

“It’s all right, mi amore,” he assured her earnestly. “I’ll buy you a house anywhere you want and make sure you have everything you need. Your own accounts. With all you’ve done for me, you deserve your freedom.”

 

“Do you honestly believe that after everything we’ve been through I’m going to leave you now? Are you insane?”

 

His mouth opened and closed a few time. “Isabella, I’m a murderer.”

 

“No, Nino is, as well as the witch who cursed you. And if there is more blood on someone else’s hands then it’s your father who deserves his share—not you. More than his share! And you forget I heard all of Nino’s story. He admitted you were innocent of any wrongdoing. The curse was meant to punish your father. What they did to you was a crime. You were the victim, and now that I’ve gone through the trouble of saving you I will not be cheated.”

 

“Cheated?”

 

Isobel stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Yes, cheated. Did you or did you not promise that if I saved you, you would spend the rest of your life loving and cherishing me? Because I recall that you did—several times. So don’t try to tell me now that you were wrong or you made a mistake!”

 

Tears welled in his eyes. “There was no mistake. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. Even though my mind wasn’t always my own, my heart recognized you. But you deserve better than this,” he said, lifting his hands in emphasis.

 

“What I deserve is your love and devotion, all of the happiness you promised. And I will get it because, damn it, I earned it!”

 

Matteo’s eyes grew bright with unspent tears, but he burst out laughing. “Yes, you did, and then some. If you are really willing to settle for an over-privileged and self-entitled conticino, then I’ll do my best to fulfill all of my promises.”

 

Relaxing, Isobel sighed and sat down next to him on the bed. “I don’t think those words have ever applied to you. You are nothing like your father. And I’ll expect more than your best,” she said with a playful nudge.

 

Eyes remote, he nodded. “Anything you want. And I’m not insulted. Truthfully, I’ve been thinking that my father and I need some…distance. Perhaps a lot of distance.”

 

“I know. You told him to go ahead to Italy.”

 

He swallowed. “I meant after we travel home. I have another small estate on the Lago di Bolsena. I inherited it from my grandmother. She used to make it her home when she was the dowager countess. Father doesn’t like it much because it’s not as grand as our other estates, but my mother loved it and I do too. I think that’s where we should make our home. If Father wants to see us, he can do so there. But only to visit. We should live on our own.”

 

Isobel put her hands over her heart, shoulders shaking in relief. “We don’t have to live with your father? Oh, thank the stars. That’s the best news I’ve ever heard.”

 

Matteo laughed again before wincing and subsided.

 

“Lean back, darling,” she urged, gently pushing at his shoulders to recline him on the pillows of his bed.

 

Unfastening his breeches, she tugged them down.

 

“Isabella, I’ve had enough sleep to last me a lifetime. There’s no way I’m going to bed right now.”

 

Laughing to herself, she pulled the cloth free of his legs. “Actually, I had something else in mind,” she said, beginning to unfasten her dress.

 

His eyes lit up. “And what might that be?” he asked, even as it became increasingly obvious that she was wiggling out of her gown.

 

“Well,” she began, joining him on the bed. “It occurs to me that this is the first time we’ve been alone together. Truly alone.”

 

He coughed, his hips rising as she reached out to massage his legs and then higher.

 

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.” His expression grew serious. “But what if…”

 

“If what?”

 

He glanced at her and then away quickly. “Suppose you like it better the other way? I still remember how intense it was. I don’t want to disappoint you now that I’m just a man,” he said in a low hoarse voice.

 

Her brow rose pointedly. “You could never do that.”

 

He looked at his hands and grimaced. “I can’t even touch you.”

 

“Yes, you can.” She smiled softly before pulling off her chemise and crawling to his side. “Everywhere,” she whispered as she offered him her breasts.

 

He hesitated before latching onto the creamy mounds eagerly, kissing and sucking each in turn. Shifting closer to her, he drew the rapidly hardening tip of one into his mouth and laved it, and then the other, with his tongue. Isobel moaned, parting her legs involuntarily.

 

It did feel different this time, more intense.

 

Her husband must have thought so too. “Cara, use your hand. Touch yourself for me,” he rasped. “Open your legs wider so I can see.”