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And now, staring at her own reflection, Catarina thought bitterly,this will be my fate.

Her fingers trembled as she yanked her robe’s belt tighter.“You can get through this,” she whispered to herself, though she didn’t really believe it.

She walked out of the bathroom—then froze.

On the bed lay a gorgeous white dress, tea-length, delicate silk tulle spilling like clouds.She didn’t have to touch it to know it was expensive.Stunning.Beautiful.

Her stomach dropped.Then anger surged.

Anger at her father.

Anger at herself for being reckless.

Anger that she was standing here bracing for a beating instead of running far, far away.

But running never worked.People who ran from Enrico were always found.Always dragged back.And then they wished they’d never been born.

Would he kill her this time?It was possible.More than possible.

With her pulse thundering in her ears, Catarina grabbed the dress and stormed out of the bedroom.Her head pounded, her mouth felt like sandpaper, and her stomach swayed with every step.But fury kept her upright.

She found him in the great room.

“What’s the meaning of this?”she demanded, waving the dress like a flag of war, the silk brushing against her arm.

“That, my dear,” said Salvatore Romano—shirtless, glistening from a shower—as he set down his glass of water, “is your wedding dress.”

Her tirade promptly short-circuited.

Because—good grief.The man had muscles stacked on muscles.His abs looked like something carved out of marble.His arm muscles flexed as he moved, his shoulders broad enough to block out the damn sun.She vaguely registered another man standing to the side, but honestly—who cared?

Her brain stuttered.Her tongue refused to work.

Sal walked toward her, each step slow, deliberate, predatory.When he stopped less than an inch away, she inhaled the clean, masculine scent of him—soap, heat, power.Up close, he was even more overwhelming.

Catarina swallowed.“I…um…can’t…!”

“We agreed to marry last night,” he said, his voice deep and husky.Had it really sounded that sinful last night?Low and rough, like velvet dragged across her skin.“You proposed to me.You can’t go back on your word now,mia cara.”

“Wait…!”She pressed her fingers against her temple, wincing at the pounding inside her skull.Flashes from the previous night flickered through her mind—too much scotch, Matteo’s disgusting antics, her own reckless words tumbling out.“Didn’t you… um…proposeto me?”she whispered.She forced her eyes open and found his dark, steady gaze locked on hers, more intense than she remembered.

“Yes,” he said with a low chuckle.“And then you launched into a persuasive speech about how useful you could be as a wife—decorating my home, hosting elegant dinners, supplying valuable secrets about your father’s plans.”His mouth curved in amusement.“I took that to mean you were proposing to me.”

Her stomach lurched.She had said those things.She remembered the words pouring out, fueled by desperation and liquor.

Before she could deny it, his hand lifted.Warm fingers slid around her neck—not tight, but firm, controlling.The heat of his palm branded her skin, and her pulse betrayed her, hammering wildly against him.

“We’ll be married in—” he checked his watch with maddening calm, as though he were simply scheduling a meeting “—one hour.”

Then he did something outrageous.Deliberate.Dangerous.He pulled her closer until the terrycloth of her robe brushed his bare, solid chest.The combination of his hard lips and the soft scruff of his beard sent a shiver spiraling down her spine.His lips grazed hers, a whisper of a kiss, a spark that flared into wildfire before she could even close her eyes.

Her gasp slipped out, sharp, shocked—heat rushing through her veins like molten fire.She froze, teetering between outrage and need.And then—before she could truly savor it—he pulled away.

Bastard.

But then he punished her even more cruelly by walking away, those wide shoulders shifting as if he owned the entire world.Which, apparently, he did.

“If you don’t like the dress,” he said casually, as if her world hadn’t just tilted on its axis, “I’ll have others sent up.”