Jealousy in romance is like salt in food. A little can enhance the savor, but too much can spoil the pleasure and, under certain circumstances, can be life-threatening.

-Maya Angelou

"What the devil are you doing?"

Three pairs of eyes swung in my direction as I invaded the makeshift dancing studio in one of the rooms in my villa in Amalfi Coast. "What the devil do you think you're doing?" I repeated my question menacingly to the stunned trio.

"Lucca!" It was Tatiana who first recovered. "What are you doing here?"

"Last time I checked this is still my villa."

Tatiana scowled openly to me which made my blood boil to top notch. "If you're just going to be sarcastic and start a fight with me again—maybe you should have stayed in Rome."

So, her anger to me hasn't lessened in the past few days of silence between us, had it? Well, I have some news for her too. So was mine. The fact that I thought that if we cool down a little maybe we can solve our little misunderstanding once I got home.

But I wasn't prepared to see her so damn happy while dancing in the arms of Gio Veronesi, her personal chauffeur. Clearly, she didn't miss me like I missed her. She didn't look miserable like I'd suffered in the days that we aren't talking to each other. If she's miserable she wouldn't grinning on her dancing partner while they practice waltz trying not to stomp each other's toes.

Every day since the tabloid thing blows up. Every irritating minute had passed, I was sorely tempted to call her and begged for forgiveness which I haven't done to any woman in the past. Every second passed, her beautiful face consumed my thoughts. And every damn night I missed the simple things we did together, like when I rub her feet after a long day of wearing killer stiletto and simple dinner on the terrace watching the night in Amalfi Coast.

"Lucca?" My cold little wife dragged me from my dark thoughts.

I noticed from the red mist on my head that she's still clasped in the arms of her driver. "Remove your arms on my wife or I'll rip you into two." I snarled in Italian to the young man.

Tatiana gasped while my good friend Francesca who remained silent until this moment looked at me as if I had grown horns right this moment.

"I—I'm sorry, Your Excellency." Gio stammered as he put distance between them.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my anger. "Leave us."

Francesca and the pale sweating young Italian left me alone with my wife. I composed myself before I faced my beautiful wife.

"That was rude."

"I, rude?" I asked in disbelief.

"You know, you are." She glowered at me with her violet eyes flashing with anger. "You shouldn't embarrass Francesca and Gio like that."

Mentioning her chauffeur again, the rage came back instantly. "I will fire him," I told her darkly. "That man is no longer your driver starting this moment. If you need a dancing partner, it should be me."

"You wouldn't do that." She countered fiercely with her eyes blazed with fury.

"Try me." I challenged her.

"He didn't do anything wrong, Lucca!"

"He did," I contradict her, fixing my gaze on her lovely pale face. "He's touching you. And I don't like other men touching what's mine."

Tatiana stared at me. Defiant gleamed on the depth of her eyes. "I am not yours."

"You sure?" I asked as I stalked towards her, thinking like a dangerous predator at the moment. "Because the moment I found you in the sea you became mine, Tatiana."

Before she could deny the truth any longer, I crashed my mouth to hers in a hot and possessive kiss. I poured all the frustration I've felt this past week knowing that Tatiana was angry with me and I couldn't do a damn thing because I was too far away from her. And there was my work that kept me in the city when I wanted more than anything else to go to Amalfi to be with my wife.

I invaded her mouth with my tongue. She gasped but I continue to kiss her as if I was starving for her all my life. I snaked my arm on her slender waist and drew her closer to my body while my other hand clamped her hair so I could deepen the kiss.

She thumped her fist on my chest, but I kept going. Kissing her again was like coming home again after a long time of absence. It made me feel happy knowing that I'm here with her and I'm not going anywhere without her again. But most importantly knowing the simple fact that she is mine. I will bring her to Rome with me when I go back to the city. I will never leave her alone here in my villa.

I will never let anyone steal her away from me.

She is mine.

Tatiana is my wife and I will never let her go—ever!

When I was satisfied that she was no longer fighting me, I drew back my mouth slowly with hers and watched her passion clouded eyes as they stared back at me. I fought back my triumph to see that she's not as an immune as I thought. She also liked me.

"I hate you," she said, when she finally recovered with our kiss. "I hate you, Lucca Cavelli!"

I smiled that kind of cynical smile that didn't give a damn about anything. I decided to provoke her. "I don't care. Hate me all you want. But that didn't change that fact that you're my wife and you belong to me."

"You're despicable!" She hissed, her violet eyes cracking with fire. "I'm starting to regret the day I married you! I hate you! And if you fired Gio I will never forgive you, Your Excellency."

She surprised me when before I could reply, she stalked out the room and closed the door behind her enough to rattle the frames that hung on the wall.

That's right, Tatiana. The inner voice in my head said. Hate me with everything you have. Fill your heart, mind and soul of nothing but your hatred towards me. Day and night think of nothing but your hatred towards your husband until it consumes you, then you'll have no room for other men to think of but me.

"For crying out loud! You're her dance partner." Francesca said in exasperation for the hundredth time this morning to Gio. "She's not a time bomb that will explode if you touch her. Try it."

"But signora the duke might fire me when he learns that I touched his wife." Gio explained while cold sweats formed on his forehead.

"The duke will understand that his wife needs a dancing partner for her practice." Francesca said patiently as if she was talking to a child. "Besides, he is not expected to arrive until tomorrow."

"But—"

I laughed and decided to step-in on their growing argument just like yesterday. "It's okay, Gio. You can touch me. I'm not a sort of combustible liquid that could burn you if you put your hands on me."

Poor Gio, he was clearly struggling in defying Francesca's command and the fear when the duke found about it. Francesca was more devious than I gave her the credit for.

Besides, I don't care what the hell my womanizing husband would say about this. We didn't do anything wrong and he is not expected to arrive here until tomorrow. After a week of silence with him, I don't really care if I am dancing with my driver at his villa when he arrives.

"So," Francesca said dryly. "Are you just going to stand here staring at each other for the rest of the day or you two start the waltz step I taught?"

With a resigned sigh from Gio and a grin from me, my struggling chauffeur placed his trembling hand on my waist and the other held my hand as we began to move on Francesca's count.

After a few moments later, Francesca groaned and drew out attention, she looked like she just saw her worst nightmare. "Tell me," She said. "Are you two trying to break each other's toes so you can't dance anymore? Waltzing doesn't require that, I might add."

Gio and I stared at each other and laughed. We tried the best we could for not stepping on each other's toes but it's hard when two people are dancing who can't dance at all."

But our fun halted when someone barged in and nearly rattled all the frames inside the makeshift room for my dancing lesson.

We all looked at the fuming Italian duke who strode inside the room who is out for blood. Uh-oh, we're in trouble.

"What the devil are you doing?" He thundered. "What the devil do you think you're doing?" He repeated his question menacingly to us.

"Lucca!" I was Tatiana who first recovered. "What are you doing here?"

"Last time I checked this is still my villa."

I scowled openly at him which made him angrier. "If you're just going to be sarcastic and start a fight with me again—maybe you should have stayed in Rome."

His gray eyes were bright as hell frost. The devil wouldn't look scarier than my husband's bubbling fury right this moment.

He snarled at my poor driver and shocked our good friend Francesca and made ourselves embarrassed when he kissed me senseless in the middle of the room as if he had the sole right on my mouth and he could do whatever he wanted on it. His kiss wasn't the usual he gave to me. This one is pure possession, like the very devil who is claiming my soul in the form of his ruthless kiss.

After a moment, I finally found strength to push him away. "I hate you," I spat angrily. "I hate you, Lucca Cavelli!"

I am expecting him to say that same, but he left me speechless when he replied calmly. "I don't care. Hate me all you want. But that didn't change that fact that you're my wife and you belonged to me."

"You're despicable!" I hissed. "I'm starting to regret the day I married you! I hate you! And if you fired Gio I will never forgive you, Your Grace." I didn't wait for his reply and I flew out of the door. I absently went inside my room thinking why our marriage starts to go down straight to hell.

I didn't realize that even a marriage of convenience was hell lot more difficult to survive like a real one.

An hour or so had passed. I was blindly looking down at the chapter of the book I've been reading. Repeating the paragraph to the hundredth time now and not understanding a word from it, as if it was written in old Latin than in English.

A light tap on my door brought my attention. I saw Lucca enter. "We have a problem."

"What?" I asked, snapping my eyebrows together.

"My mother had just called," He explained, running a hand on his shiny black hair. "And she wants to meet my bride. She's planning a ball on Sunday for our wedding celebration. We need to go to Naples tomorrow."

Oh my God, the time has come for me to meet my mother-in-law now, had it?

The question is will she like me? For some reason, I am dreadful to find out the answer tomorrow.