“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t talking to you,” I said lamely. Some people might consider arguing with their inner critic as weird.
He raises one dark, straight brow and just stares at me, probably waiting for me to explain.
“You look really… gorgeous,” I offer weakly. He does, he wears a tux like a boss, a perfectly fitted black suit that must be custom-made. Shoulders like his do not fit in an off-the-rack option.
“Thank you,” he steps in, taking the stubborn zipper of the dress that I’ve been struggling with and he easily pulls it up, fastening the tiny clasp at the top. Running his hands up and down my arms, he looks at me in the mirror. “You’re beautiful,Bellissima.This dress is perfect for you.”
The dress is glorious, one-shoulder black silk, with a slit that ran all the way up my right leg. I’m going to have to be careful how I walk in this to keep from flashing anyone. I smile, flushing under his clearly lascivious gaze. “Thank you, too. I’ve investigated being able to transfer credits from Brown to Harvard, but they haven’t gotten back to me yet.”
“Good,” he said, more focused on running his hands over my hips, my waist and spreading his long fingers over my ribcage.
“So- you reallydidmean it when you offered me the chance to get my degree, didn’t you?” I’m amazed by this. It seems so… not what I would expect from a crime lord.
He looks up at me in the mirror again. “Of course, I made you a promise.”
“Do you always keep your promises?” I watch his expression carefully.
“A man’s word is even more important in my world, Cora,” he said. “Does that surprise you?”
“Honestly? Yes,” I admit.
His head dips as he places a long, slow, sucking kiss on my bare shoulder. “Here’s another promise. I’m going to fuck the hell out of you tonight when we get home because I’m going to spend the entire evening readjusting my dick so my zipper doesn’t rub all the skin off it.Dannare,damn, just looking at you gets me hard.”
I stare at him, alarmed. He slid into me this morning when I was half asleep, stroking and toying with me until I came with him. This was after the introduction to his massive, multipurpose bed last night. He has no intention of letting me live. He’s just going to kill me with sex.
Dario…
I’m used to having a beautiful woman hanging off me. The money and power that comes with this way of life make that easy. But escorting my wife into the glittering museum is making me swagger. She’s easily the most gorgeous woman here, and while she may have hated the way she was raised, her training kicks in and she smiles regally, handling the flashing lights and the photographers like a pro.
I’m a fucking genius for marrying this woman.
“Anyone, in particular, you’re looking for tonight?” Cora keeps smiling pleasantly as she asks. “Aside from the good Senator?”
“Tonight is about rubbing it in your parent’s faces,” I said, nodding to the Attorney General, who nodded back with a tight smile. She has a drinking problem that leads her to hook up with hot young women, and I’m pretty sure her husband, who is nodding and smiling too, knows nothing about it.
"Dario Toscano, what an unpleasant surprise."
Wrapping my arm around my wife's waist, I turn to grin insolently at Lachlan Cox, head of the Irish Mafia here in Boston and a snotty little bitch.
"Well, look who's here. Hey, Cox, even an Armani can't make a delinquent from Southie look like a gentleman." I drawled, enjoying the slightest flinch crossing his chilly expression.
He ignores the taunt, absently twirling his glass of Redbreast whiskey. "Cora, it's a pleasure to see a good Irish girl such as yourself here. But why are you slumming withthisdago ijit?"
Her brows draw together. "My apologies, have we met?"
Oh, that hurts Lachlan's pride, I can tell.
"A couple of times," he said pleasantly. I can tell he's laying the Irish accent on thick, which is bullshit since I know he was born here in Boston. "I hosted your father's last Senate run fundraiser."
Her pleasant expression seems to feeze. "You're good friends with the Senator?"
The Irish bastard gives the slightest curl of his upper lip. "If I say yes, are you going to throw your drink in my face?"
That's it. I'm going to throat punch this motherfucker. He's flirting with mywife?
Cora seems to sense my fury, holding my arm tightly. "No, but it gives me a fairly accurate view of your character, Mr. Cox. So instead, we'll wish you a good evening. Honey..." She looks up at me, fluttering her eyelashes adoringly. "Shall we go take a look at the silent auction items? I know how important it is to you to donate tonight."
Grinning malevolently at Lachlan, I draw her hand through the crook of my arm. "Of course,Bellissima.Always a pleasure, Cox. It's a big city and plenty of room to grow without stepping on each other's toes."
