“Dante,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “You startled me.”

“That was not my intention.”

Her heart was racing. She hoped she’d not spoken aloud about any part of her plan.

“I don’t imagine it was.” She was not going to freak out. Laughing, she couldn’t help but look toward the doorway right behind him and hope for a chance to escape. The last thing she wanted to do was make small talk.

They stood, opposite sides of the kitchen. She was still near the sink, Dante in the doorway. He wasn’t wearing a jacket anymore. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, and he looked angry.

Aria didn’t know what had set off his anger, and she wasn’t interested in learning either. Dante, other than to do his duty, hadn’t laid a finger on her, and she wanted to keep it that way. Other women were not quite so lucky. Black eyes, lots of makeup, and of course lies—that was what she was used to hearing from them.

The silence between them was starting to make her uncomfortable. She wanted it to be over.

“I was just getting a glass of water. I’m about to go to bed,” she said.

Move. Try not to draw his attention.

Not for a single second did she think she had the power to draw his attention, but she didn’t want to have to perform more of her duties.

Go.

Dante wasn’t saying anything, but he was staring at her. She had no choice but to attempt her escape.

She moved toward him, and was just about to glide past him when he suddenly reached out, grasping her arm, and before she knew what was happening, she was pressed up against the wall. Panic swelled up inside her. What had happened? Had she done something wrong?

She heard the cruelties of people at parties saying that he would probably beat her because she wasn’t anywhere in his league. Fear traveled down her spine, and it had no thought, no care, no consideration.

She stared at him, waiting, wondering.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Dante said.

“I don’t?”

“No, you don’t. I just want to try something. Trust me.”

Aria didn’t trust him. His reputation far exceeded him, but there was nowhere else for her to go. She felt the panic, but then Dante surprised her. The only time they had kissed was on their wedding day straight after the priest had told them the I do’s. The kiss at the altar had been chaste. To any onlooker, they couldn’t have mistaken that neither person wanted to be there.

She’d been terrified. Since then, they had not kissed.

They hadn’t even had a honeymoon, or done anything together, other than their duty. She struggled to think of it as sex … it was duty. Sex was something different to her, intimate.

All thought fled her mind as Dante’s lips took possession of her own. She expected him to be somewhat cruel, unyielding, refusing to give up and just taking. This kiss was so many different things, and yet, all of them together.

Dante’s hands went to the wall on either side of her head. At first, it was only their lips touching, and Aria couldn’t deny that it felt nice.

Slowly, his body pressed against hers, they were flush together, and something changed within her. At first, she thought she was going to panic, but then suddenly, that all evaporated, and she felt the length of his body against hers. It was nice. Strange.

And all too soon, the kiss had come to an end.

Dante pulled away, and she stared up into his brown eyes. They had the same eye color, but her husband’s eyes were slightly darker, more intense, at least to her.