Wine glass in hand, you stood in a secluded corner of the banquet hall, hoping for some alone time. Your fiancé, Andrew was off at the refreshment table, likely getting drunk out of his mind. Maybe flirting with a noblewoman. You had hoped Matteo wouldn’t be attending this banquet — and if he was, you had hoped he wouldn’t approach you. Unfortunately, your hopes very seldom got you far. A pair of strong arms snaked around your waist, blonde hair brushing against your neck. “Having a fun time, dove?”