Scorned Vows: An Arranged Marriage Romance (Scorned Fate)

I will never love you.

I woke up in the dark on a bed that wasn’t mine, and in clothes I didn’t recognize. I thought I was still in that nightmare. A room of gold. A long table that stretched from end to end. A faceless man sitting at its head, and I was on the opposite end. I was being punished for something. A distance stretched between us that felt more than physical. The walls of the room were endless, and he seemed unreachable.

I woke up with an ache in my head and a loss in my heart.

“Natalya, are you okay?” A voice spoke in the darkness and I saw movement on the couch.

Luca. It was the voice from my dream, which felt more like a nightmare.

Natalya was my name, but I still couldn’t respond to it. It was as if there was an impermeable membrane between my old memories and who I was now. On the plane, my brain struggled, and it gave me an almighty migraine. I asked for a painkiller, but it seemed the bastard gave me a sedative.

I sat up on the bed. “You drugged me.”

The figure rose from the couch and approached the bed. “It was for your own good.”

“You’ve known me less than a day and you’re making decisions for me.”

“Gleason saw what I gave you.”

I looked around me. “So where am I? Is this room my new prison?”

He sat on the bed. “It’s not. I didn’t want to overwhelm you when we came home. It’s best to start with this room.”

“Am I to be locked up here?”

“No.”

He reached out a hand, but I flinched. “I need to pee.” My bladder was so full, it was a surprise I didn’t wet myself.

He assisted me without asking and I let him, but after a couple of steps when I was sure I wouldn’t fall over, I said, “I got this.”

He exhaled a frustrated breath. “I only want your comfort, Natalya.”

I lumbered into the bathroom and shut the door on him.

“I will stand out here, and if I hear nothing in two minutes, I’m breaking down this door.”

“God! Would you let a woman pee in peace?” I grumbled as I sat down on the toilet and let the pressure go. I looked around the bathroom, taking in the luxurious space of gold and white marble. There was an elegant soaking tub, and a glass-enclosed shower with one of those rainfall showerheads.

After I finished, I flushed the toilet to let Luca know I was still alive. There was no doubt which side of the double sink was his and hers. I inspected the lotions, cleansers, and moisturizers on one side. They were high-end ones and nothing compared to the drugstore variety I used on my face. I grabbed the toothbrush and scrubbed out the cotton from my mouth. Even the toothpaste tasted expensive.

“Can you please open this door?”

Arguing wasn’t worth it, so while brushing my teeth, I unlocked the door. The light from the bathroom revealed a disheveled Luca. Far from the commanding mafia boss of earlier, he had bloodshot eyes with bags under them that weren’t there before, and his trim beard needed grooming. When I met him this morning—yesterday morning—he was obviously meticulous about his facial hair.

I gave him an unimpressed once-over and resumed my place in front of the mirror.

“It would make me feel better about your care if you are less argumentative,” he told me.

I almost choked on the toothpaste. I quickly gargled and pinned his image in the mirror with my stare. “Let’s get one thing straight. While I figure out who I am in your life, it is not my responsibility to make you feel better.”

“But it is mine.”

“I don’t care if you make me feel better. All I want is the truth.”

“We have to be careful.”

“Don’t baby me.”

“The doctor—”

“We will run it by the doc, but I don’t want you hovering around me. Clearly, I survived without you these past two years. I’m not delicate.”

His eyes flashed and he stalked inside. Alarmed, I spun around and he caged me against the sink.

“No. You’re selfish.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not the one who lives with the memory that I had failed to protect my wife,” he gritted. “You’re not the one who has to live with the torment of not knowing if you were alive or dead. Of what happened to you. If you had left me on purpose.”

The torment in his eyes clogged the words I wanted to say. “You said I loved you. Why would you think I left you?”

He leaned away slightly, jaw hardening, before he took a full step back. “There’s much to unpack here. I might know, and then I might not.” He caught his lower lip between his teeth as if giving himself more time to frame his words.

“You’re speaking in riddles and it’s making me nervous. You think I could sleep after you leave me with something like this?”

“Do you need another sedative?”

I huffed an irritated breath. “Is that your answer to everything?”

“I’m doing it for your own good.”

“Again with the high-handedness.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He extended his arms as though he couldn’t help it. I understood he was used to giving orders, but did I sympathize? No.

“How long were we married?”

He gave a start, as if surprised by my question. “Less than a year.”

“I was barely twenty-three when I disappeared?”

“You were.”

“Luca.” He knew me when I was younger, but I think I’d changed in the last two years. “I don’t think I’m the same girl anymore.”

He was quiet for what felt like a minute. It lasted seconds. Finally, he said, “No. You’re not.”

“How can you say you love me the same?” He was quiet again, and this time it did last longer. The refreshing taste of the toothpaste turned more acidic the longer he didn’t respond.

He was struggling to say something. The rise and fall of his chest and the clenching of his jaw gave him away.

“You’re not sure, are you?”

“This is not conversation for now,” he clipped. He held out his hand. “Come.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea that we sleep in the same room.” My indignation at the sleeping situation was delayed, but I needed to voice it.

When I didn’t take his hand, he simply grabbed mine and tugged, and I stumbled into him. I glared up at his amused face. That face came closer. “Since I’m the person who would most likely trigger your memory, I’d say it’s a good idea. But your concern is noted. For now, we’ll sleep in the same room. I’m on the couch anyway. We can decide later what is appropriate.”

“Why can’t—”

“Sleep. You’ll need it.” I sensed foreboding in his words, but for the first time since I met Luca, his touch gave me reassurance, and I clung to his hand as he led me to the bed.

He tucked me in like he would a child.

I blinked up at him, his features hidden in the backlit window. I felt rather than saw the tenderness in his eyes.

“Good night, tesoro.” He stroked my face lightly like I was the most precious thing. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

He bent further and kissed my forehead lightly.

I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but I was wrong, because next I blinked, an arrow of sunlight peeked through the drawn drapes of the darkened room. Luca must have pulled them closed because I remembered moonlight bathing the room through its tall windows.

My gaze followed the lines of the room. If this was our bedroom before, I had poor taste in interior design. The curtains were beige, and save for the expensive Persian rugs on the floor, the room was basic. The walls needed a repaint and I couldn’t even identify the shade. Taupe? Green? The closet took over an entire wall. It was a stark contrast to my life in Danvers.

I sat up carefully, glad that my brain was sharper and the fog from the sedative had lifted.

Natalya. The name didn’t grate. I didn’t have any nightmares or dreams either, or if I did, I had no recollection. My eyes fell on the sleeping form on the sofa. That couldn’t be comfortable. Luca was a big guy. The sofa wasn’t long enough to fit his entire frame, and he had a foot resting on the floor, while the other one was cocked on the couch. He had a pillow underneath his head and an arm thrown across his forehead.

During our earlier conversation in the bathroom, I tried very hard not to look past his face. He’d been wearing a white undershirt and drawstring pajamas, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he slept in the nude.

Heat rose to my cheeks, reminding me of his filthy words on the plane. In front of Dr. Gleason no less. It was not said in a medical way either. “Yes, we did have sexual intercourse, and I gave you cunnilingus.” And despite the sedative, how my body reacted to him was appalling.

Gingerly, I left the bed and padded barefoot toward the sleeping Luca. I couldn’t help staring at his crotch. With the position of his legs, his morning wood was clearly outlined, and it was impressive. I gulped. That thing had been inside me. Wetness pulsed between my legs and a force propelled my feet to move closer.

I stared at his face. So beautiful in his sleep. Even with the roughness of his beard, it couldn’t hide the chiseled proportions of his jaw, the proud nose. His mouth was firm yet also held a hint of a pout. Dark brows, thick lashes.

Next, my gaze strayed down his white shirt. It wasn’t one of those skintight ones I saw Brad wear, but the way it clung to him, the bulges and the dips, hinted of a man who kept in shape. My eyes couldn’t help looking at his erection again.

“Like what you see?”

I sprang back with a yelp, my heart leaping to my throat.

Luca’s eyes were slightly more open. It was hard to tell he wasn’t sleeping, save for the sly tilt to the corners of his mouth.

“There’s much to do. Get up.” I escaped into the bathroom and slammed the door. I did my business and brushed my teeth.

The door swung open and Luca walked in. “Are you always going to run to the bathroom when the conversation becomes uncomfortable?”

“I…” I spat the toothpaste. He was standing with his back to me and was going to piss. “Couldn’t you wait until I’m done?” I hurriedly rinsed my mouth.

He chuckled, unperturbed. “I need to take a leak.”

I rushed out from the room and he called, “I’ll be more mindful next time.”

While Luca did his morning routine, I investigated the closet. A row of suits in blue, gray, and black and white dress shirts were arranged in an orderly fashion. Underneath them were several pairs of shoes. Tucked in another corner was more casual wear.

I felt him before he spoke in my ear. “Your clothes are over there. Martha has laundered a few.”

I bent forward so I could look behind me. The clean, woodsy scent of his aftershave assailed my nostrils and stirred a longing inside me to lean closer. His hair was wet, his chest bare, and I dared not look lower.

A mischievous glint entered his eyes. “Normally, you’d appreciate me walking around naked, but I considered your recent puritanical sensibilities.”

Of course, my eyes lowered and was relieved and maybe a tad disappointed he had a towel slung around his hips.

I wanted to inhale all of him and my body felt like it was coming down with a fever. Why couldn’t I have reacted this way to other men? Was my DNA drawn to his? At this point, my logic was appalling, and my body’s reaction infuriated me.

Luca Moretti was too potent for my senses. I needed some kind of armor against him. I was ill-prepared to handle a man like him. “When don’t you wear suits?”

“I like wearing them.”

“Obviously.”

His mouth quirked. “But I dressed more casual for you when I stayed here.”

“Stayed here? Oh, you mean we also lived in Chicago?”

His gaze dropped. “Do you want to shower now, or after breakfast?” He moved away from me to rifle through the more casual section of his clothes.

I stared at his back for a long time, baffled for an instant with his retreat, but maybe there was something “shocking” with that as well.

He pulled on a worn-out tee, before casting me a brief glance. “There’s more to it, and I don’t want to get into it right now.”

Fair enough. He gave me no choice but to turn away when he whipped off the towel. I caught a glimpse of cock nestled against dark hair in between muscular thighs. I ran out of the closet and heard Luca’s laughter.

Asshole.

In my rush to get out of the closet, I forgot to bring clothes, and I was too chicken to return to the closet to pick them out. I locked the bathroom door, but it was the kind of lock that could easily be rigged, and I wouldn’t put it past Luca to barge in if he really wanted to. I was getting the idea that he was a man who did as he pleased.

I found a terrycloth robe in the bathroom closet and decided that would do. The rainfall shower did a lot to improve my mood. All those dopamine receptors were welcome. After I dried my hair, I returned to the bedroom to see Luca back on the couch, bare feet propped on a leather cube, and texting.

Clothes were laid out on the bed.

“You picked out my clothes?”

He glanced up briefly from the screen. “Don’t get too excited.” His eyes gave me a head-to-toe appraisal before he shook his head, grinned mysteriously, and shifted in his seat. “That’s what you typically wear around the house.” He told me without looking at me and resumed typing into the phone.

Expensive threads, tailored linen pants, and printed orange flowers on a silk blouse. Lacy panties sat folded beside it.

“You’re a bit thinner.” He finally put the phone away and leaned back to watch me lazily. It made me wish I had on more than a robe, but I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of letting him know he flustered me. “We’ll put some meat back on you soon enough.”

My chin tilted up. “You’re confident that I’ll accept being your wife again.”

That seemed to annoy him. Good. Payback was sweet.

“No divorce.” He stood and stalked toward me, invading my space, he lowered his head. “We won’t throw away our marriage.”

“What if I never get my memory back?”

“Then we’ll start from scratch.”

“What if I changed too much and we’re no longer compatible?”

“Why all the negativity?” he shot back. A slight sneer touched his mouth. “You truly think I couldn’t make you love me again? We’re compatible in bed.” His gaze didn’t even move down my body, but just the heat in them made my skin sensitive to the fabric of the robe.

“Marriage is more than sex.”

“Don’t challenge me, tesoro,” he whispered, but the tone left no question what the challenge was. “I’m trying to be less of a villain here. I already have too many points against me.”

“And you’re the type to keep score?”

“I’m not heartless, you know.” For a moment, our gazes locked and the flash of anguish in his eyes pulled the same emotion from my heart. It reminded me of what he told me about being the one left behind and not knowing.

“I know this is too much to take in.” He cleared his throat. “A husband. This house. The challenge is only beginning.” He turned away and walked back to the couch. “Get dressed. After Gleason looks you over, there’s someone I want you to meet.”