Corrado shook his head, saying softly, “So, when you ask why I can’t choose who I want ... it’s because I don’t deserve what I already have, and I’m sorry that you seem to think you’re the person who doesn’t deserve me. You’re wrong, and I’m so fucking sorry for that. I’m sorry for this, and nothing I do or say is ever going to make this better, but you should know that before anything else. I’m sorry. I’ll say it every single day. Every hour on the fucking hour. It won’t change a thing, though. It won’t change it because I won’t give you what you want. I can’t ... not the way you want me to.”
“But ...”
“Hmm?”
Ginevra stared hard at him, trying to find that lie. Anything to tell her that he was saying things he thought she wanted to hear, and not the truth. Instead, all she found was a stark, harsh reality staring back at her.
He wasn’t lying.
It broke her heart more.
“I think the choice should be easy for you,” she said softly.
Corrado laughed dryly, tipping his head away from hers as he asked, “And why is that?”
Wasn’t it obvious?
“You don’t love me—you love him.”
She could see it in Corrado’s eyes before the words even left his mouth that he wouldn’t deny what she said—because it was the truth. And like her, this man seemed to make every effort not to lie when he could.
“But I could,” he murmured.
Her heart stopped.
She swore it did.
“Pardon?”
“Love you,” he clarified, “I could, and the longer you’re near, the stronger it’s going to be for me. This happened to me already—I did this once, I know how it ends, Ginevra.”
Ginevra laughed, but it was far too faint. Hidden in her chest, that traitorous heart of hers pounded like it was going to explode. She liked what he said too much. And the way he was looking at her again?
Intense, and knowing.
Like he was so sure.
And daring her to challenge him.
She’d felt that, too. From the second she stepped into his vehicle in front of that church, she thought ... everything was going to be different. Maybe then, she’d assumed it was because of her sisters, and everything that was happening around her. The chaos, and the unknown waiting for her.
But was it?
Or was it him?
“You can’t know that about love,” she said, her words slipping out on a breath. “You can’t, Corrado.”
“Why not? I knew it about him, so why would you be any different? My life wasn’t right before him, and then it was ... but now it’s tilted again, confusing—wrong again. I keep thinking it’s because of you, because nothing else changed except here you are, and I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m sorry.”
Corrado gave her a look, a sad smile curving his lips up at the edges. “Why on earth are you apologizing to me?”
“Because love shouldn’t be that complicated or painful. It should be everything but those things.”
“It could be,” he agrees. “I want it to be.”
“And you want him,” she whispered.
“I do.”
“And me. You want me, too.”
Corrado’s agonized stare landed on her again, causing her heart to clench from the truth she found waiting there. “Don’t you know?”
“I thought I did, but I think that I don’t know anything at all.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, chuckling darkly, “I have a way of doing that to things I care about. Fucking up, I mean.”
“Don’t say that, Corrado.”
It hurt her heart more.
For herself.
For him.
For a man who wasn’t even here.
It all hurt.
“But haven’t I?” he asked, his hand coming up so he could tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ear with the softest touch. That was all it took, just his skin grazing against hers, and heat shot through her every single one of her nerves, making her air catch hard in her chest, and her heart skip beats all over again. “Haven’t I made this mess?”
God.
This wasn’t fair at all.
He didn’t play fair.
The bigger problem was that she didn’t think Corrado was trying to play games at all.
“I told you once before,” Corrado said, his head drifting lower until his lips nearly touched hers with his next words, “I ruin beautiful things. I won’t be the one who pushes you away, Ginevra, so if you want to save what is left of your heart, you need to be the one to do it for me.”
If heartbreak was a picture, it would be his face.
Handsome.
Devastatingly so, really.
And tortured.
It killed her.
“You have to do it,” he said again, “do you hear me?”
She did.
But ...
“I can’t,” Ginevra breathed.
She couldn’t say the words loudly.
Not yet.
They meant she was going to hurt worse. This would have to be enough.
Corrado didn’t move an inch.
That was okay.
Ginevra didn’t need him to move when he was this close—not when all she wanted to do was kiss him, have him ... take him for herself. Even if that meant, all too soon, she was going to have to give him to someone else.
So, she did just that.
31.
Corrado
Corrado was a selfish fuck.
How many times had he said that about himself already?
Too many.
Thing was, it didn’t make it any less true. Because that’s exactly what he was.
Selfish. Greedy. Immoral.
He wasn’t all those things at once, sure. Or, he tried not to be. And yet, when Ginevra’s lips found his in that office doorway, the same way Alessio’s had done a week earlier, he realized he could, in fact, be all those things.
Selfish. And greedy.
So fucking immoral.
Because all he could think in those seconds was how goddamn sinful Ginevra’s kiss felt, and how Alessio’s had bruised beautifully, too. He felt her softness and felt Alessio’s roughness. The memory warred in his mind, dragging him closer to a place he had tried so hard to stay away from. A place that, once there, he wouldn’t be coming back.
He couldn’t stop.
Ginevra seemed all too willing to let him do what he wanted, too, and so he did just that. Each kiss he landed to her lips, her jaw, and throat pushed them back a step. His hands were harsh, and demanding, yanking at her clothes and pulling them from her body as they moved down the hallway.
Those tainted emotions of his ...
Those ruining hands of his ...
She only asked for more.
He couldn’t get enough.
Corrado didn’t remember when they hit the bedroom, but he’d stripped her of her clothes except for the cotton panties hiding the last bit of her from him. His gaze dragged down her olive-toned skin, taking in collarbones he wanted to bite, and tits that heaved with every breath she took.
Her trembling fingers reached for him, undoing the buttons on his shirt, and working at his slacks as he reached for her. He let her feel the weight of his fingertips driving down her chest before he tweaked her nipples into hard peaks.