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He’s awake.
A rush of relief ran through her that she didn’t want to analyse.
Leon’s eyes opened, and he began to look around the room. “You aren’t a nurse?”
“No,” she said, her heart thundering hard. “I’m Rose.”
He was probably still disoriented. After all, this was Italy, and she was supposed to be at home in Connecticut. She was probably the last person he expected to see.
“Rose?”
“Yes,” she said, starting to feel a little more alarmed.
“I flew to Italy because of your accident.”
“We are in Italy?” He only sounded more confused.
“Yes,” she said. “Where did you think we were?”
He frowned, his dark eyebrows locking together.
“I don’t know.”
“You were in Italy. Seeing to some business.” And probably pleasure, knowing him, but she wasn’t going to add that. “You were leaving a party and a car drifted into your lane and hit you head-on.”
“That is what I feel like,” he said, his voice rough.
“As though I were hit head-on. Though I feel more like I was hit directly by the car. With nothing to buffer it.”
“With how fast you drive, I imagine you might as well have been.”
He frowned. “We know each other?”
She frowned. “Of course we do. I’m your wife.”
MAISEY YATES is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than thirty romance novels. She has a coffee habit she has no interest in kicking, and a slight Pinterest addiction. She lives with her husband and children in the Pacific Northwest. When Maisey isn’t writing she can be found singing in the grocery store, shopping for shoes online and probably not doing dishes. Check out her website: maiseyyates.com.
Carides’s Forgotten Wife
Maisey Yates
To Megan Crane/Caitlin Crews.
For all the times we've sat around talking about how wonderful it is to write these stories, and everything else.
You make my writing and my life more sparkly.
Contents
ANOTHER BORING PARTY in a long succession of boring parties. That was Leon’s predominant thought as he pulled away from the ostentatious hotel and out onto the narrow Italian streets.
The highlight of his evening had been the most disappointing portion, as well. Being rebuffed by Rocco Amari’s fiancée. She had been beautiful. Exotic. With her long dark hair and honey-colored skin. Yes, she would have made a wonderful companion for his bed tonight. Sadly, she seemed to be very committed to Rocco. And he to her.
To each his own, he supposed. Frankly, Leon did not see the appeal in monogamy.
Life was a glorious buffet of debauchery. Why on earth would he seek to limit that?
Though he had walked away empty-handed, he had thoroughly enjoyed enraging his business rival. He could not deny that.
The other man was possessive in a way that Leon could see no point in being. But then, he had never had feelings so intense for a woman.
He turned onto a road that began to lead out of the city, heading toward the villa he was staying in during
