A Hunger for the Forbidden. Maisey Yates

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СКАЧАТЬ was it Alessia did to him? This wave of possessiveness, this current of passion that threatened to drown him, it was not something that was a part of him. He was a man who lived in his mind, a man who embraced logic and fact, duty and honor.

      When he did not, when he gave in to emotion, the danger was far too great. He was a Corretti, cut from the same cloth as his father and grandfather, a fabric woven together with greed, violence and a passion for acquiring more money, more power, than any one man could ever need.

      Even with logic, with reason, he could and had justified actions that would horrify most men. He hated to think what might happen if he were unleashed without any hold on his control.

      So he shunned passion, in all areas of life.

      Except one.

      He pulled his car off the road and slammed on his breaks, killing the engine, his knuckles burning from the hard grip he had on the steering wheel, his breath coming in short, harsh bursts.

      This was not him. He didn’t know himself with Alessia, and he never had.

      And nothing good could come from it. He had spent his life trying to change the man he seemed destined to be. Trying to keep control, to move his life in a different direction than the one his father would have pushed him into.

      Alessia compromised that. She tested it.

      He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to catch his breath.

      Then he turned the key over, the engine roaring to life again. And he turned the car around, heading away from the airport, away from the city.

      He punched a button on his dashboard and connected himself to his PA.

      “Lucia?”

       “Sì?”

      “Hold my calls until further notice.”

      It had been three hours. No doubt the only reason her father and his men hadn’t come tearing through the airport was that they would never have imagined she would do something so audacious as to run away completely.

      Alessia shifted in the plastic chair and wiped her cheek again, even though her tears had dried. She had no more tears left to cry. It was all she’d done since she’d arrived.

      And she’d done more since it had become clear Matteo wasn’t coming.

      And then she’d done more when she’d suddenly had to go into the bathroom and throw up in a public stall.

      Then she’d stopped, just long enough to go into one of the airport shops and pick up the one thing she’d avoided buying for the past week.

      She’d started crying again when the pregnancy test had resulted in two little pink, positive, yes-you’re-having-a-baby lines.

      Now she was wrung out. Sick. And completely alone.

      Well, not completely alone. Not really. She was having a baby, after all.

      The thought didn’t comfort her so much as magnify the feeling of utter loneliness.

      One thing was certain. There was no going back to Alessandro. No going back to her family. She was having the wrong man’s baby. A man who clearly didn’t want her.

      But he did once.

      That thought made her furious, defiant. Yes, he had. More than once, which was likely how the pregnancy had happened. Because there had been protection during their times in bed, but they’d also showered together in the early hours of the morning and then … then neither of them had been able to think, or spare the time.

      A voice came over the loudspeaker, the last call for her flight out to New York.

      She stood up, picked up her purse, the only thing she had with her, the only thing she had to her name, and handed her ticket to the man at the counter.

      “Going to New York?” he asked, verifying.

      She took a deep breath. “Yes.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      HE’D NEVER EVEN opened the emails she’d been sending him. She knew, because she’d set them up so that they would send her a receipt when the addressee opened her message, but she’d never gotten one.

      He didn’t answer her calls, either. Not the calls to his office, not the calls to his mobile phone, not the calls to the Palazzolo Corretti, or to his personal estate outside Palermo.

      Matteo Corretti was doing an exceptional job of ignoring her, and he had been for weeks now while she’d been holed up in her friend Carolina’s apartment. Carolina, the friend who had talked her into a New York bachelorette party in the first place. Which, all things considered, meant she sort of owed Alessia since that bachelorette party was the source of both her problems, and her pregnancy.

      No, that wasn’t fair. It was her fault. Well, a lot of it was. The rest was Matteo Corretti’s. Master of disguise and phone-call-avoider extraordinaire.

      She wished she didn’t need him but she didn’t know what else to do. She was so tired. So sad, all the time. Her father wouldn’t take her calls, either, her siblings, the most precious people in her life were forbidden from speaking to her. That, more than anything, was threatening to burn a hole in her soul. She felt adrift without them around her. They’d kept her going for most of her life, given her a sense of purpose, of strength and responsibility. Without them she just felt like she was floundering.

      She’d had one option, of course. To terminate the pregnancy and return home. Beg her father and Alessandro for forgiveness. But she hadn’t been able to face that. She’d lost so much in her life already and as confused as she was about the baby, about what it would mean for her, as terrified as she was, she couldn’t face losing the tiny life inside of her.

      But she would run out of money soon. Then she would be alone and penniless while Matteo Corretti spent more of his fortune on sports cars and high-rise hotels.

      She wasn’t going to allow it anymore. Not when she’d already decided that if he didn’t want to be a part of their baby’s life he would have to come tell her to her face. He would have to stand before her and denounce their child, verbally, not simply by ignoring emails and messages. He would have to make that denouncement a physical action.

      Yes, she’d made the wrong decision to sleep with him without telling him about Alessandro. But it didn’t give him the right to deny their child. Their child had nothing to do with her stupidity. He or she was the only innocent party in the situation.

      She looked down at the screen on her phone. She had her Twitter account all set up and ready to help her contact every news outlet in the area.

      She took a breath and started typing.

      @theobserver @NYTnews @HBpress I’m about to make an important announcement re Matteo Corretti & the wedding scandal. Luxe Hotel on 3rd.

      Then she stepped out of the back of the cab and walked up to the front steps of Matteo’s world-renowned hotel, where he was rumored to be in residence, though no one would confirm it, and waited.

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