CHAPTER ONE

CHRISTIAN MARKOS TIPPED the last of his champagne down his throat and immediately refilled his glass.

He’d known today was going to be hard, but hadn’t imagined quite how torturous it would be. Not even all the running around he’d done with Rocco that morning, in their seemingly desperate attempt to find the bride, had mitigated it.

Afterwards, he’d stood by the side of his closest friend on the happiest day of his life and all he’d been able to think was how deeply he’d betrayed him.

While Rocco had been exchanging his vows, Christian had been using all his willpower to stop his gaze flitting to Alessandra.

He was still fighting it.

sister. A pretty child who’d grown into a ravishingly beautiful woman. The one

Or should have been.

tight chignon, she’d arrived by boat with the radiant bride, the spring sun beaming down on

bridesmaid outshone everyone,

shoes so high he’d been amazed she could walk in them. But walk in them she had, beautifully, her delectable bottom swaying with every step. That was the last time he’d seen her clothed. The last time he’d seen her properly she’d been burrowed naked under the bed covers

wedding party had moved from the beautiful gardens by Lake Como and into the Villa Mondelli ballroom. The wedding dinner was over, the evening celebration about to start. He’d made his best man’s speech and managed to raise some laughs from the other guests, especially Stefan and Zayed, who’d substituted the speech he’d written with a bluer

to die for. Just six weeks ago he would have been at her side like a shot. If not her, then one

he must have diabetes, because none of the sweets

The forbidden

of hand? He might

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