“So, trick the bait into helping,” he reasoned.
But I wasn’t going to do that. Amanda needed to be on our side. Manipulating her wasn’t going to build the trust we desperately needed.
“Unless I can convince her, this isn’t going to work, Alexei.”
The Russian snorted. “You going soft on me, V?”
“Never.” He didn’t understand. If he was ever blessed to have someone important come into his life, he might relent. But there was no explaining this beautiful, wonderful ache in my chest to someone who wasn’t driven by love.
“One week,” Alexei conceded. “Don’t fuck this up, guido.”
“Don’t plan on it.” I cut the call.
Going to the kitchen, I grabbed plates and utensils. The table and chairs were delivered while we were out. It was comical how just adding this furniture changed the landscape of the loft. When I bought this place, it was to create a fortress. A headquarters from which to operate. I never expected it to become a home. Once the table was set for dinner, I called for my bride.
Amanda poked her head out of the bedroom, where she’d been busy putting away her new clothes. She eyed me suspiciously, but the scent of food invited her to step out.
“The rack is full, and I haven’t even unloaded half the bags,” she commented as she went to the second chair.
“I’ll have someone build more racks.”
Amanda let out a short laugh. “It’s going to make the bedroom small.”
That was true. “I’ll knock an opening into the next apartment. It can be your closet.”
She gaped at me. “The next apartment?”
I nodded. “They’re all three empty up here. You can make it a girly suite. A vanity, whatever closet system you want. I’ll show you after dinner, and you can tell me how you want it fixed.”
“A whole apartment—Enzo! Are you insane?”
Probably. “Let’s eat.”
Rolling her eyes, she reached for the chair, but something inside me snapped. The idea of distance suddenly made my inner beasts claw to the surface. I wrapped an arm around her waist, plucked her off the floor, and despite her immediate protest, I sat.
With her on my lap.
“Enzo! What the hell?” she snapped.
Her ass rubbed against my thigh.
“We’re eating dinner. Together.” I picked up one of the forks and used the side to cut off a piece of chicken.
Amanda tried to move off my lap, but my arm around her waist became an iron bar. Stabbing a piece of chicken, I brought the fork to her lips.
“I’m not a child,” she protested.
I pressed the chicken against her lips. “You most certainly aren’t. But I enjoy feeding you. I’m just sorry that we haven’t had the chance until now.”
The feeling of her pressed against me was the sweetest torture. She felt so right, shimmying her bony ass on my leg. Dio! How could such a gorgeous ass, one that didn’t fit in the palm of my hand, feel so bony? It made me want to laugh. When she was a cheerleader, with a penchant for gymnastics and tumbling, I used to say the same thing.
That muscular backside hadn’t changed.
“I have all night,” I murmured, running my nose against her throat. “But I suggest you eat while it’s hot.”
Amanda huffed. Those berry red lips parted ever so slightly.
I pushed the food between them.
