Italian Wife Wanted by Lela May Wight

Author:Lela May Wight
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises ULC
Published: 2024-10-15T13:24:21+00:00

It felt like whiplash.

Emma ached with everything she now knew about their marriage and everything she still didn’t. He’d given her what she’d asked for on the terrace.

A better understanding of him.

But she wasn’t satisfied.

He’d brought her to a forest of cherry blossoms, a garden with a variety of spring blooms. Some she knew and some she didn’t. Iris. Yellow petals with stained tips of red. Tulip Don Quichotte. Deep strains of purple and pink.

It was overwhelming he’d do this for her. A wife who was supposed to mean nothing to him. Not emotionally.

It was as if he knew her. Not only her body as per their contract. But the woman beneath all that.

He’d created a place for her in his mind.

A place filled with knowledge of her.

This wasn’t sexual.

It was intimate. It was holding her hand, when every instinct told her to withdraw from his touch. It was knowing her in ways that had nothing to do with her body.

He saw her. He made her feel safe. And wanted.

But none of it mattered, apparently.

It had never mattered between them.

She’d exposed herself, spoken freely about her past, taken some of her power back by exposing the truth. And for what? Their marriage had only ever been surface deep. It was a connection of bodies, not minds. Not hearts.

They had a contract. No emotional attachment, no love. Only them and a shared desire. A marriage strictly for passion with an inbuilt safety net and financial security guaranteed.

And...sex.

Lots of sex.

Questions, so many questions, caught in her throat.

Emma’s throat tightened.

But it was also beginning to make sense too. How they had found one another, why they both would have chosen to enter into a loveless marriage. They were the same, him and her. Their childhoods had both been unstable. And somehow, they’d found each other.

Each other’s constant in a world that had given them both nothing but inconsistency. That was why they’d governed their relationship with rules. Put precautions in place.

‘That’s how you did it, isn’t it?’

‘Did what?’

‘Convinced me to marry you.’

‘Yes.’

If he’d told her about the contract the night she’d fallen, would she have stayed?

No.

The woman she’d grown into was the one who had made this possible. A woman who would have been swayed by a secure future, who wanted to be reliant on nothing and no one. One who had seen what life had to offer and what it didn’t.

The younger Emma would never have risked that the intensity between them could have burned her alive. Wouldn’t have risked that she might not be able to walk away. Left it behind. Left him behind. Because that would surely have been the easier choice.

And there was nothing wrong with choosing easy. All her life it had been hard.

Until him.

Dante had made things easier for her.

Never had she been treated softly. Never had anyone shielded her from the harshness of life. Allowed her to more than survive the endless cycle of days.

He’d come for her when she needed it the most. Taken care of her when she’d abandoned him.

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