The Italian's Twin Consequences (One Night With Consequences) by Caitlin Crews

Author:Caitlin Crews [Crews, Caitlin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary Romance, Women's Fiction, Forever Love, Bachelor, Single Mother-To-Be, Sensual Story Theme, Hearts Desire, Lifetime Love, Life-Changes, Second Chance Reunion, Honesty & Trust, Home & Family, Romantic Schemes, Beautiful & Feisty, Love-Family & Forever, Small Town & Rural Area, The Combe Family Scandals Series, Family & Domestic Life, Young Child-Twins, Marriage of Convenience, Character Assessment, Unexpected Pregnancy, One Night With Consequences
Publisher: Harlequin Presents; Original edition
Published: 2019-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

“OR,” MATTEO CONTINUED, his voice silk and sex and too many other things Sarina didn’t know how to name, though she could feel them all like velvet temptation inside of her, changing her, “perhaps you do not know how to ask for what you want. Is that it, little one?”

Sarina had already been angry. She had spent the day locked away in her rooms, going over what had happened in that breakfast room again and again. Better still, picking through every moment of every interaction she’d had with this man, still trying to understand how she’d ended up here.

How he could be so loathsome—to throw Jeanette in her face, to challenge her the way he did—and yet she still felt that molten betrayal pulsing between her legs.

It was worse now.

Much, much worse.

And the things he’d said to her made her want to scream. Sarina gulped that down, but she couldn’t seem to do a thing about the thick heat that burst all over her and kept right on going, making her...burn. As if she’d thrown open the door and stepped into a sauna and wasn’t sure she could breathe through the steam.

“Don’t call me that,” she said. Because it was the only thing she could think to say. “I’m not your little one.”

And her stomach dropped, because the look he gave her then was... Different. Considering. Pure male speculation mixed with something else, something that looked a good deal like...patience.

Patience etched on stone.

It made her feel as if he’d reached down inside of her, rummaged around, and turned her inside out.

“You were a very driven child,” he said, his voice musing, which seemed to connect directly to all the heat that suffused her. “You were the valedictorian of your high school class. You excelled in college, maintaining a distractingly high grade point average all four years.”

Of all the things she’d imagined he might say, it certainly wasn’t that.

She tried to pivot. To follow him wherever he was going, the way she would have done if this was any kind of normal session. She was supposed to be good at this. Following the threads, knitting them together—

But he was talking about her life. And he was doing it with that odd light in his dark gray eyes, that patience she couldn’t help but think boded ill for her, and worse still, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

“I’m actually already conversant on my academic record, thank you,” she managed to say, and she didn’t understand why she felt shaky. When nothing was happening.

Except... She didn’t feel right. She thought maybe she was coming down with something, brought on, no doubt, by the stress of all this. She felt weightless and raw, swollen and shaky, all at once. She was wet between her legs, her breasts actually hurt they ached so much, and she couldn’t think what could cause all of those things at once. It had to be that she was coming down with something.

“You applied yourself with the same rigor to your graduate studies.

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