He finishes cleaning me and drapes a blanket over the lower half of my body. Then he retrieves something from his trouser pocket and reaches for my right hand.
“This tracks your temperature and cycle.” He slides the silver ring onto my finger. “It will tell us which days are best for conception.”
When he releases my hand, I hold it up to examine the ring. I’ve heard of these, but I never imagined he’d buy one for me. Then again, we have a lot riding on this.
Two years for an heir.
I glance up at him, and I know he’s thinking about it too. I’m sure it weighs on his mind constantly.
“I also tossed your sleeping pills,” he says matter-of-factly. “You won’t need them when you’re in my bed. I have better options to keep the nightmares at bay.”
“That almost sounds sweet,” I tell him. “Except…you are the nightmare, darling.”
He gives me a dark look as if to say I have no idea.
Something flutters in my belly. It almost feels like we’re flirting, which is strange. I can tell he’s noticed the shift, too, because he’s itching to leave.
“Are you going somewhere?” I ask.
“I have work to do,” he says. “You should get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll leave the yacht for a while.”
“Leave where?”
“We have dinner in Monaco. A few associates.”
I don’t have to guess what that means. Europe is theCosa Nostra’sfavorite playground. I wouldn’t be surprised if half of our wedding guests are still here, sipping cocktails on a beach somewhere. And now that Angelo has returned, he’ll be invited to every event under the sun. As his wife, I’ll be expected to attend most of them. But that isn’t what’s bothering me right now or why I’m asking these inane questions.
“Is Genevieve staying with us the whole time?”
“Yes.” He holds my gaze, his face a mask of indifference. “She’s my assistant. She goes where I do.”
A long, uncomfortable silence follows. Something hot flickers in my chest, and I try to tamp it down. To nobody’s surprise, he doesn’t allay my concerns. I’m sure he thinks I have no right to say anything after what I’ve done to him. I can foresee this war between us spinning wildly out of control.
Maybe we only have thirty days, but that doesn’t mean I have to forfeit right now. So I just come right out and say it.
“I won’t tolerate cheating, Angelo.”
A low, humorless laugh echoes through him as he fixes me with a contemptuous look. “Ironic coming from you.”
“I never cheated.” The words nearly get caught in my throat, which doesn’t help my case.
Of course, he doesn’t believe me. He may have taken my virginity, but he still thinks I left him for Matteo. The reasons why don’t matter. Not to him. All that matters right now is retribution.
He drags a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “We’ll leave at six tomorrow. Don’t shower until I check your tattoos in the morning.”
He’s on his way to the door, and I don’t want him to go. Not on a bad note.
“What should I wear?”
He cuts me a sideways glance, eyes raking over me in one long, lingering sweep. “Wear something that sends a message.”
My heart thumps erratically. “Such as?”
His voice deepens, thickening with possession. “The Vitale Queen has arrived.”
Angelo Vitale.
He literally tattooed his name on the back of my thighs. As I observe the reflection in the mirror, a rush of heat zips down my spine. It’s such a feral, insane thing to do. How barbaric and degrading can he be, marking me like I’m his property?
