Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
That he had two fucking working eyes to admire her with pissed me off to begin with. On top of that, he looked exactly like the dashing Italian guy she’d probably end up with if she didn’t lie about her condition. It was the cherry on the shit cake. He grinned at her, and she gave him a shy smile. The chances of him living to see next year significantly dropped.
“Did you find everything you were looking for?” he cooed.
“She found a husband who owns the entire neighborhood,” I answered on her behalf. His gaze jerked to me. Recognition flashed in his eyes, and his face drained of color.
“Y—yes, sir. Of course. I was just trying to be polite.” Gulping, he pushed our shit faster into grocery bags, forgetting to scan half the items.
“Being too polite to my wife might be hazardous to your health.”
“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”
“Stupidity is not an excuse. This is your first and final warning.”
Once he got everything packed, I sent one of my errand boys to unload the groceries in my apartment and took Lila to the waterline. The direct view was of Rikers Island—not exactly the lights of Paris—and left a lot to be desired. Then again, I never romanced anyone in my life and wasn’t going to make exceptions for my wife.
All the benches overlooking the water were taken, but one wrathful gaze toward an elderly couple occupying the closest bench sent them tumbling to the other end of the street.
Lila settled on the bench; her brows crumpled in disapproval.
We watched the water. I sifted through my gray matter for an olive branch to extend to her. It wasn’t in my nature to appease, or even to negotiate, but Tierney was right. I needed this girl alive.
“You can be happy here,” I lied, holding my gelato without eating it.
She gave me a questioning look, her delicate frown deepening.
Progress. Her isolation from her mother took its toll.
“As long as you don’t cross me and play by my rules, I’ll let you thrive. You can come and go as you please. Hire your own staff. I can buy you a place next to your parents.” One I would never set fucking foot in. “You can pursue your artistic ambitions. Study.” Her face lit up before she was able to conceal it.
I continued, knowing I had her full attention now, and not for the wrong reason for a change.
“Luca told me you go to Ischia every summer. You can still do that. Not this year, but the next one.” I wasn’t going to stick around for next year. What did I care, throwing empty promises in the air?
She had the audacity to scowl at me. The little shit might have let Tate Blackthorn touch her. Impregnate her. It wasn’t particularly significant in any way, other than the carnage-fueling thought that he touched something that was mine.
She squinted at the horizon, popping the little spoon into her mouth, suckling it. The motion sent a throbbing ache straight to my cock. Sweet and merciful Jesus. I did not believe in karma, God, or anything else not backed by science, but it appeared I was paying for my sins by marrying the most enticing creature on planet Earth, knowing damn well I couldn’t have her.
The ice cream was melting in my hand, and I tossed it into the trash can next to the bench, irritated that I now had a sticky hand on top of a raging hard-on with nowhere to sink it into.
One of those problems could be mitigated by a quick hand wash. The other was here to stay.
Lila finished her gelato and the waffle cone that came with it. Quietly, she picked up my ice cream-covered hand and uncurled my fingers. She twisted her head, holding my fingers open as she stared at my palm.
She wanted to check the injury she inflicted on me. Unfortunately, it was covered in green gelato.
She studied the gelato stain, frowned, then brought my hand to her mouth, flattening her hot, wet tongue over it and licking it off me.
I growled, my blood roaring in my veins. Euphoric desire flooded me. This felt better than sodomizing any professional escort I’d ever laid hands on.
She was dangerous.
For my plans.
For my goals.
For that useless thing inside my chest.
The mark resurfaced. The wound had healed, leaving only a pale, pink scar. She rubbed her tiny thumb over it, and that simple move threatened to change my entire brain chemistry. I yanked my hand back and stood up.
“Enough.” I buttoned my coat with one hand. “You’re not a fucking dog, Lila. Stop licking everything you encounter.”
I spent the walk back to the apartment silently contemplating why the fuck I didn’t kill her at that fountain and save myself this headache. I’d never shown mercy to anyone before.