"Sophia—"
"Or I could go alone," I whisper to him, already knowing his answer. "I'm sure Dante wouldn't mind accompanying me while you wait here."
His eyes darken at the suggestion of another man, even Dante, going lingerie shopping with me.
"We'll both go," he says through clenched teeth.
"Perfect." I beam at him, then turn to the manager. "Could you have those sent to the Sartori compound?"
"Of course Miss."
"Soon to be Mrs. Sartori," Lorenzo corrects, his hand finding the small of my back possessively.
The manager's eyes widen slightly at his tone, and she nods quickly.
As we leave the boutique, Lorenzo's hand stays on my back. I lean into him slightly, playing the happy fiancée for anyone watching.
"You're enjoying this," he murmurs close to my ear.
"Maybe a little," I admit. "Aren't you?"
His fingers press harder against my spine, and I have my answer.
The lingerie store is all soft lighting and aesthetic displays. Lorenzo stops just inside the entrance, his hand still on my back.
"You get what you need," he says, his voice clipped. "Then we leave."
I nod, starting to move away, but his grip tightens. He pulls me against him in what must look like an embrace. His lips brush my ear, and his voice drops to that dangerous whisper that that causes me goosebumps.
"The next male name that comes from your lips that isn't mine," he says slowly, "will cause me to make that man dead. Do you understand me, Sophia?"
Oh.
I try not to laugh.
I slide my hand up to the back of his head, my fingers threading through his dark hair.
"If you keep rejecting having sex with me," I whisper back, my lips barely moving against his ear, "the next male name I speak will be whoever I fuck instead."
His hand at my back becomes a fist in my sweater, and I feel the sharp intake of his breath.
I pull back just enough to see his face.
Then I spin away from him before he can answer and walk into the lingerie section, leaving him standing there.
My hands shake slightly as I browse through lace and silk. I can feel his eyes on me, tracking my every movement from where he stands near the entrance like a guard dog. Or maybe more like a wolf, waiting to pounce.
A saleswoman approaches, her smile professional but curious. She's definitely noticed Lorenzo.
"Can I help you find anything?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lorenzo
The water scalds my skin, but I don't adjust the temperature. I need the burn right now, need something to cut through the haze that's been clouding my brain for three days.
Since she threatened to find someone else.
