I had always been okay at being boring and ordinary, of always doing the right thing and playing it safe. But when Marcus Ravelli came to live with us that one summer, the wildly sensual and dangerously handsome Italian bad boy made me yearn for the impossible. And everything changed.
Fast forward nine years later, and Marcus and I were about to meet again. I convinced myself that I would be able to handle it. But I was wrong. I still ended up acting like a docile little lamb in his presence, still ended up saying yes to his every suggestion---
No matter how foolish or dangerous.
No matter if it involved marriage.
I thought I understood how things were between us. I thought that because he was my friend, he knew better than to hurt me again.
But I was wrong about this, too.
So, so wrong.
Fast forward nine years later, and Marcus and I were about to meet again. I convinced myself that I would be able to handle it. But I was wrong. I still ended up acting like a docile little lamb in his presence, still ended up saying yes to his every suggestion---
No matter how foolish or dangerous.
No matter if it involved marriage.
I thought I understood how things were between us. I thought that because he was my friend, he knew better than to hurt me again.
But I was wrong about this, too.
So, so wrong.
I had seen my fair share of beautiful men in my life. Heck, I had lived with three of the world’s most beautiful men my entire life, but even so there was just something about the stranger that called out to me, making him different, and his looks more…potent. I had never used that word to describe a man before, but for him it seemed fitting, with the way every little thing about him had a tremendous impact on my senses.
He was tall and powerfully built, the outline of his biceps made more prominent with how the sleeves of his white buttoned-up shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Faded jeans completed his casual look, but the way he carried himself made his clothes seem more elegant than a ten-thousand-dollar suit.
His raven black hair wasn’t so different from Jaak’s, but unlike my brother’s blue eyes – an all-famous de Konigh trademark – the other man’s eyes were exceptionally dark, deep-set, and exotic. His skin was a deep shade of bronze, the kind only Mediterranean men seemed naturally blessed with, and the way he moved was so very…Italian.
I couldn’t quite explain it, but I was sure anyone who watched the way this man moved would know what I mean. There was a certain kind of sensuality about him - almost forbidden in its explicitness – that literally made me hot all over.
I had never felt anything like it before. It should have terrified me, but instead I let it draw me in, the unusual heat he exuded making me lick my lips---
Oh.
Did his eyes just narrow?
“This is my sister Anneke.” Jaak’s words drew my attention back to him momentarily, but when I glanced back at my brother’s friend, it was like I had only imagined the change in his gorgeous features.
I must have imagined it then. Right?
Jaak gestured carelessly to his companion. “Anneke, this is Marcus Ravelli. He’s staying with us for the summer.”
Marcus. I adjusted the old pair of glasses perched on my nose while I tested the man’s name in my mind. Marcus Ravelli. The name suited him. It sounded manly and sophisticated, mysterious and---
Wait.
My gaze flew back to my brother. Had I heard him correctly? Was I going to live under the same roof with Mr. Italian Perfection over there?
He was tall and powerfully built, the outline of his biceps made more prominent with how the sleeves of his white buttoned-up shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Faded jeans completed his casual look, but the way he carried himself made his clothes seem more elegant than a ten-thousand-dollar suit.
His raven black hair wasn’t so different from Jaak’s, but unlike my brother’s blue eyes – an all-famous de Konigh trademark – the other man’s eyes were exceptionally dark, deep-set, and exotic. His skin was a deep shade of bronze, the kind only Mediterranean men seemed naturally blessed with, and the way he moved was so very…Italian.
I couldn’t quite explain it, but I was sure anyone who watched the way this man moved would know what I mean. There was a certain kind of sensuality about him - almost forbidden in its explicitness – that literally made me hot all over.
I had never felt anything like it before. It should have terrified me, but instead I let it draw me in, the unusual heat he exuded making me lick my lips---
Oh.
Did his eyes just narrow?
“This is my sister Anneke.” Jaak’s words drew my attention back to him momentarily, but when I glanced back at my brother’s friend, it was like I had only imagined the change in his gorgeous features.
I must have imagined it then. Right?
Jaak gestured carelessly to his companion. “Anneke, this is Marcus Ravelli. He’s staying with us for the summer.”
Marcus. I adjusted the old pair of glasses perched on my nose while I tested the man’s name in my mind. Marcus Ravelli. The name suited him. It sounded manly and sophisticated, mysterious and---
Wait.
My gaze flew back to my brother. Had I heard him correctly? Was I going to live under the same roof with Mr. Italian Perfection over there?
This story made me cry it was so heart wrenching... - Amazon verified 5-star review
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