I can see the flickers of jealousy in his eyes when the Graziano twins flirt with me, when Carlos asks me about my favorite books, when Matteo describes the summer house he wants to take me to—alone, he adds pointedly—if he's my choice. I canseethat he hates the idea of any of these other men having possession of me, touching me, taking me for their own. But as far as I can tell, that changes nothing.

The moment the last guest leaves, I turn to Angelo from where we're standing at the foot of the staircase. 'I don't want to marry any of them," I whisper.


His expression is harder than I've seen it before when he looks at me, his jaw set. 'You'll have to," he says finally. 'Rizzo has made it plain, by sending Andre here, that he won't suffer delays. Hewillmarry you to Andre Romano if we don't make our own choice within the timeframe he's given."

My choice would be you.I swallow hard. 'I don't—I can't—"

'You have to." Angelo's tone is ruthless. 'Unless you want to be married to that prick. Which means keeping your pretty mouth shut and smiling and minding your manners. Do you understand, Rosalia? I can't make this work in your favor if you insist on having outbursts at the dinner table—"


'You know why!" I stare at him, disbelieving. He's never spoken to me this way before, and what scares me more is that I can see the fear behind it. He's unsure if he can manage this as well as he expected, if he can keep me as safe as he meant to. The ground under his feet isn't as stable as he wants me to believe.

'You need to be careful, Rosalia, if you want to be the one choosing."


'What happened to the lessons?" I narrow my eyes at him. 'You promised, in exchange for my cooperation. It's been a week—"

'I have to think about that." Angelo's jaw tightens. 'I'm not sure it's appropriate—"

'So now you're a liar?" I can hear my voice rising, the words coming out more hurtful than I mean for them to be. 'So now you're just going to go back on your word and throw me to the wolves? Why should I trust that you can protect me at all? You wouldn't do what my father asked, and now you won't help me make sure that one of these men will want me, that I'll know what to do so I won't be so scared. You could have fixedallof this, and you won't! You promised to teach me, and you—"

Angelo's eyes are blazing, anger in them that I've never seen before. The muscle in his jaw leaps as he looks down at me, and it's enough to make me stop talking abruptly, my heart hammering in my chest in mingled desire and fear.

'You want a lesson?" His voice is deadly quiet. 'Maybe it's time for a different kind of lesson, Rosalia. One that you'll remember the next time you're at dinner with the men who will decide your future."

His hand closes around my elbow as he marches me across the foyer, towards the door that leads into his office. My heart is in my throat, my breath catching as he closes the door behind him, flipping on a light that bathes the room in a soft glow. The curtains are still open to the large window that overlooks the backyard, and if someone walked past, they could see us, standing there in front of Angelo's desk.

'No doubt your husband will do the same as I'm about to, if you defy him," Angelo says quietly. 'I hadn't planned on this, but perhaps it's best if you find out first from me."

I have no idea what he means. My pulse is fluttering wildly, fear on the verge of overtaking me, but there's excitement, too. I don't understand it, and I don't know what's going to happen next, but there's excitement in that, too.

'Turn around," Angelo says, his voice hard, but there's an underlying current of something else, too. 'Face the desk."

I swallow hard, and for a moment, I think of disobeying. I wonder what will happen if I do. And then slowly, very slowly, I turn to face his desk.

'Pick your dress up," Angelo instructs. 'Just the back of it. Up to your waist."

The blood rushes in my ears so suddenly that I almost can't hear anything else, my knees going weak as heat floods me.He's going to punish me.That throbbing arousal returns, burning between my legs, making me ache as I reach for my skirt with trembling fingers. I can feel my face burning with heat, and I know that Ishouldn'twant to do this, but a part of me does. A part of me wants to find out what happens next. What Angelo will do—and if it's what my fevered imagination has managed to dream up.

Slowly, I slide the silk up my legs, my hands shaking. I can feel Angelo's eyes on me, and I desperately want to look back, to see what expression is on his face, if this is turning him on, too. I want to know if he's fighting the same sort of feelings that I am.

I don't remember, until my skirt is nearly to my thighs, that I'm wearing only a thong beneath it. My face feels like it might combust with heat, my cheeks glowing with humiliation, and my hands stall, the silk fluttering against the backs of my thighs as I hear Angelo clear his throat behind me.

'Keep going, Rosalia," he instructs, and I feel my knees tremble all over again as I obey.

The silk brushes against the tops of my thighs, the bottom curve of my ass, and I suck in a breath as I lift my skirt to the small of my back as he instructed, leaving my ass bare to his view. My eyes are squeezed tightly shut, my heart is pounding in my chest—and I can feel that my panties are soaking wet, clinging between my thighs.

'Good girl," Angelo murmurs, and before I can stop myself, I let out a small, whimpering moan.

I can almostfeelAngelo freeze behind me. 'Shit," he murmurs under his breath. 'Fuck—"

I can hear his breathing, quicker now.He's aroused too,I realize, and I wonder if this is when it finally happens, when that control that he's been hanging onto snaps, and he takes my virginity for himself. This isn't necessarily where I had hoped it might happen, in his office instead of in a soft bed, but—

'Bend over, Rosalia." His voice is hard again, stern, as if he's gathered himself. 'One hand on the desk, the other holding your dress up just like you are. Bend over all the way."

Oh god.I swallow hard, my chest heaving with quick breaths as I go very still for a moment. The position he wants me in is so vulnerable, so exposed, and—

'Now, Rosalia," he growls, and I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning again.

I'm not supposed to be turned on by this. This is meant to be a punishment. But I can feel the quiver that runs through me as I force myself to obey, my skin flushed and burning now all over, as if my entire body is on fire. I press one hand against the desk, bending over slowly so that my bare ass is pushed out towards Angelo, and I know he can see the clinging black fabric between my thighs. I hope desperately that he can't see how drenched the fabric is, how much this is turning me on.

'I can use my belt or my hand, Rosalia. Ten strokes, and that's all. Just enough to remind you that you need to mind your manners. Your choice."

Another quiver runs through me, threatening to buckle my knees. The thought of Angelo touching me, even as a punishment, is enough to nearly make me dissolve. 'Your hand," I whisper, my voice shaking, and my thighs press together, a burst of arousal flooding through me. I've never experienced anything like this, and I wonder if Angelo knows, if he realizes what he's doing to me. I don't think hewouldbe doing it if he knew.

He steps closer to me, close enough that I almost think I can feel the heat radiating off of him, but I could be imagining it. I feel as if I could come out of my body, trembling with the anticipation of his touch, wanting it to be more than this. My hand clenches into a fist in the silk, pressing into the small of my back as I grip the edge of the desk with my other hand, the fearful anticipation of what comes next fizzing through me. 'Count out loud," he murmurs, his hand brushing against my hip, and I gasp at the sensation, at the intimate contact of his fingers against my skin.

When his palm connects with my ass, my mouth drops open on a shocked cry. I'd been so caught up in my arousal that I hadn't expectedpain, and the stinging heat that spreads suddenly through my skin makes me yelp.

'Count," Angelo reminds me, his voice a low growl, and I swallow hard.

'One," I whisper, and his hand comes down again.

The first three hurt. Not as much as they could—even I can tell he's not spanking me with his full strength. But around the time that I cry outfourin a choked voice, the stinging burn blends with the pulsing arousal between my thighs, and it feels as if every stroke of his hand jolts me there, heating my sensitive flesh and sparking over that sensitive spot between my thighs. The edge of the desk bites into my hand, my palm sweating against the silk gripped in my fist, and all I can think about is the strange, swirling vortex of sensation sweeping through me, pain and pleasure and arousal and humiliation all tangled up together. It's enough to bring frustrated tears to my eyes, burning behind my eyelids and dripping onto my lashes when I open my eyes again, gasping.

The concept of arousal, of desire, of knowing anything atallabout sex is already so new to me. And nowthis—

Somehow, I manage to keep counting. All the way to ten, where I'm left trembling there, knees locked and body frozen, heat coursing through me and an insistent throbbing between my legs that feels as if it's taken me over entirely. I want to beg Angelo to ease it, to make me come, but I can't force the words out. I can't imagine that hewould. All I can do is stand there, tearful and trembling, waiting to find out what happens next.

His hand touches my hip again, just above where my skin is red and burning from the spanking. 'You can lower your dress, Rosalia," he murmurs, and it takes a moment for me to obey, my fingers stiff from having been so tightly clenched into a fist. When the silk does fall down, slithering over my heated skin and down the backs of my legs, I let out another whimpering moan that makes me close my eyes in shame.

'Go upstairs." It's a command, deep and throaty, Angelo's voice hoarse in a way that makes me think he's holding onto his self-control by a thread. If I were braver, if I were more experienced, I would turn around and try to seduce him, to kiss him, to dosomethingthat would end with tonight going very differently than how I know he intends for it to play out—with me heading upstairs to my bed.

But I'm not brave enough. I don't knowhowto make things happen the way I wish they would, how to convince him. I might be learning quickly, but I'm still too innocent to be able to bend his wishes to mine. And that innocence is part of what keeps him at arm's length.

I swallow hard, unsure for a moment if I'll beableto walk away—my legs are so unsteady that I feel like I might just crumple to the floor and stay there. But I put one trembling foot in front of the other, all the way to the door, and behind me, Angelo doesn't move. He doesn't speak.

And I go up to bed alone.