A Hunger for the Forbidden(49)

She got out of bed and started hunting for some clothes. There was nothing. Only a discarded red apron that she knew from last night didn’t cover a whole lot.

“I’m busy, you can’t just call a meeting and expect me to drop everything and come to you like a lapdog. Maybe you’re used to your family treating you that way, but you don’t get that deference from me.”

Alessia picked the apron up and put it on. It was better than nothing.

Matteo stood from the bed, completely naked, pacing the room. She stood for a moment and just watched. The play of his muscles beneath sleek, olive skin was about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

“Angelo?” The name came out like a curse. “What are you doing meeting with that bastard?” A pause. “It was a commentary on his character, not his birth. Fine. Noon. Salvatore’s.”

He pushed the end-call button and tossed the phone down on the bed, continuing to prowl the room. “That was Alessandro.”

“I got that.”

“He wants me to come to a meeting at our grandfather’s. With Angelo, of all people.”

“He is your cousin. He’s family, and so is Alessandro.”

“I have enough family that I don’t like. Why would I add any more?”

“You don’t even like your brothers?”

“No.”

“Why don’t you like your brothers?”

“Because if I ever do seem to be in danger of being sucked into the Corretti mind-set it’s when we start playing stupid business games.”

“But they’re your family.”

“My family is a joke. We’re nothing but criminals and selfish *s who would sell each other out for the right price. And we’ve all done it.”

“So maybe someone needs to stop,” she said, her voice soft.

“I don’t know if we can.”

“Maybe you should be the first one?”

“Alessia …”

“Look, I know I’m not a business mind, and I know I don’t understand the dynamics of your family, but if you hate this part of it so much, then end it.”

“I need to get dressed.”

“I’ll go make breakfast,” she said. “I’m dressed for it.”

“You might give my staff a shock.”

“Oh—” her cheeks heated “—right, on second thought I might go back to my room.”

“That’s fine. And after that, you can ask Giancarlo if he would have your things moved into the master suite.”

“You want me to move in?”

“Yes. You tramping back to your room in an apron is going to get inconvenient quickly, don’t you think?”

Alessia felt her little glow of hope grow. “Yeah. Definitely it would be a little bit inconvenient. I would love to move into your room.”

“Good.” He leaned in and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Now, I have to get ready.”

When Salvatore had been alive, Matteo had avoided going to his grandparents’ home as often as he could. The old man was a manipulator and Matteo was rarely in the mood for his kind of mind games.

Still, whenever his grandmother had needed him, he had been there. They all had. This had long been neutral ground for that very reason. For Teresa. Which made it a fitting setting for what they were doing today.

Matteo walked over the threshold and was ushered back toward the study. He didn’t see his grandmother, or any of the staff. Only a hostile-looking Alessandro, and Angelo sitting in a chair, a drink in hand.

“What was so important that you needed to speak to me?”

“Sorry to interrupt the blissful honeymoon stage with your new bride. I assume she actually went through with your wedding,” Alessandro said.

“She did,” he said.

Angelo leaned back in one of the high-backed chairs, scanning the room. “So this is what old Corretti money buys. I think I prefer my homes.”

“We all prefer not to be here,” Matteo said. “Which begs the question again, why are we?”

“You married Alessia, I can only assume that means you’ve cut a deal with her father?”

“Trade in and out of Sicily is secured for the Correttis and the docklands are ours. The revitalization project is set to move forward.”

“Handy,” Angelo said, leaning forward, “because I secured a deal with Battaglia, as well.” Angelo explained the details of the housing development he was working on, eased by Battaglia’s connections.