“Cab?”
He smirks. “Yeah. I assume my selfish fuck of a brother kicked you out of bed without making sure you got home safe.”
“Does he do that a lot?” My nails dig into my palms at the suggestion myfucking husbandhas a conveyor belt of women parading in and out of his bedroom. Then I give myself a reality check. We’re married in name only, after all.
A husky laugh makes my core clench. “My brother is an asshole. You should have picked me, cutie.”
“But this is the first time we’ve met.”
He smiles, and it’s like the sun just came out for the first time after weeks of rain. “Better late than never.”
I tilt my head to one side, curious despite myself. “Why should I choose you over him?” Not that I’m choosing that asshole over anyone.Ever. Not in a million years. Hell will freeze over first.
Angelo’s brother leans back and rests on his arms, showing off his muscled chest and abs. Am I drooling? Hopefully not.
“I’m better looking, way less selfish in bed, and amuchnicer guy.” He pauses while smirking. “And I love kittens.”
I snort. “You should probably add modest to that list.”
The asshole grins at me before standing up straighter and hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts, drawing my attention to the way his Adonis belt dips low.
“Oh, I forgot,” he adds with a wink. “My dick is bigger.”
My gaze drops to his impressive bulge.Yeah.He’s not lying about his dick.
The temperature in the room rises as a hot flush works its way up from my toes to my scalp. Overly confident guys usually leave me cold. The men in my stepmother’s circle are narcissists wearing designer suits. Handsome but self-involved. She loves to preen around them, but I’d rather read a good book.
The jury’s out on whether Luka Di Rossi is a raging narcissist trying to love bomb me into his bed.
I sigh. It’s time I explained who I am before he gets into trouble.
“I’m not your brother’s paid whore for the evening. As far as I can tell, he’s not here.”
Luka’s brows shoot up in surprise. “Then why areyouhere?”
“I’m Chiara. Angelo’s wife.” My words bleed venom. Every time I have to call myself his fucking wife, I want to stab the bastard with a sharp pointy object.
Luka nearly chokes. “The wife who left him a year ago?”
“Yeah. That’s me.” I throw jazz hands and grin, but it’s fake as fuck.
The surprise on his face says he wasn’t told Angelo had found me. Or rather, his enforcer did. I owe that fucker a dick punch. I still haven’t forgiven him for taking me down in a parking lot and forcing me to leave all my worldly goods behind. Not that I had much, but I do miss my books.
Luka rallies fast. “Since you’re not rushing to escape this fine establishment, fancy some snacks?” He pulls some cheese from the refrigerator and drops it on the counter. “I’m starving.”
“Pretty sure there’s some stew left over from dinner,” I point out, but he shakes his head.
“Nah. Too much effort.” I watch as he slices some cheese and adds olives and chunks of homemade bread to his plate. My stomach grumbles in appreciation. It’s been at least five hours since I ate, and I’m still reversing the calorie deficit of my year on the run.
“Make enough for me,” I say. He smirks and adds more of everything to the plate before grabbing two beers. “Let’s go sit by the pool and you can tell me what it was that first attracted you to my obscenely rich, obnoxiously handsome older brother.”
I chuckle despite myself.
Thank god this brother has a sense of humor.
Luka drops onto a recliner, and after a moment of hesitation, I choose the one beside him.
Warm air caresses my skin. I’ve not spent much time in the garden, mostly because the sight of heavily armed men is not conducive to relaxation, but they’re out of sight this evening, and I can appreciate the soft glowing lights and immaculate landscaping.
