“Oh.” I drop my arms and glance back over my shoulder. “I can change, but I don’t know what kind of place we’re going to.” Any place that has a dress code in Manhattan likely wouldn’t accept the floral sundresses I have for nicer nights out. I doubt that the one slinky black cocktail dress I own would be fit for a restaurant that doesn’t also double as a nightclub, either.
“Come.” I jerk my head around as Giulio holds his hand out for me. “I will take you shopping for appropriate clothing.”
I hesitate, staring at his outstretched palm. With a frustrated sound, Giulio steps closer. His hand comes out to grip my waist and keep me in place when I try to jump back. The heat of his touch sears through my clothes. He’s got big hands… I wonder what they would feel like holding me up as he pounded into me with his big, thick—Oh my God, Daisy! Get your mind out of the gutter.
The man at fault for my wayward fantasies speaks, distracting me. “So long as you follow my orders, you will come to no harm. I hope your… friend isn’t aware of certain things. I’m sureyou’re intelligent enough not to expose my profession.” Not that I know what profession that is—which reminds me, I should probably ask if he’s, like, a killer for the mafia or a poster boy for recruitment. He’s pretty enough to be one. “Whatever story you came up with to explain your sudden relationship with me, so long as it doesn’t threaten—”
“Wait!” I hold up a hand, pushing it between our faces as the spicy scent of mint hits my nostrils.Did he smell this good last night?The thought streaks past as I return my attention to the man now staring down at me expectantly. I give him my best withering stare—not that he seems to appreciate it, but it’s the attempt that counts, right? “You’rethe one who forcedmeto be your wife,buddy. AndIdon’t even know what you do, so how could I tell her anything?”
A snort from somewhere behind Giulio echoes back to me, and I lean around him to spy the same driver from the night before sitting in the car with the window rolled down.
“Alonzo.” Giulio practically growls the other man’s name with a voice so low and rough that I think there’s no way it could have come from an actual human’s throat. I glance around as if expecting a talking dog to be sitting on the sidewalk, but nope, it was totally him.
“Sorry, Signore,” Alonzo says, not sounding sorry at all.
Giulio’s hand cups my elbow and he half leads, half carries me toward the back door of the town car. “Get in,” he orders, snapping at me as he rips the door open and pushes me inside.
I fall onto the butter-soft leather seats and scoot over as he bends and gets into the vehicle behind me. I glance at the man in the driver’s seat. “What did I say?” I ask, curious.
Alonzo glances back, and though I can’t see his eyes through the aviators perched on his nose, I have the feeling that he’s quite handsome. His jaw isn’t as cut as Giulio’s, but it is shadowed by a beard that conforms to his face nicely. The long, straight nose on which the sunglasses sit wrinkles upward when he smiles.
“There are plenty of women who would kill to be Giulio’s wife, Mrs. La Rosa,” he says.
A hand reaches across my chest, and I sit back as Giulio buckles me into the seat. When he pulls his arm back, his fingers graze right over my breasts, and I barely withhold the urge to shiver. I focus on the driver instead. “So?” I prompt when Giulio’s back on his own side of the car.
Alonzo shakes his head, and the dark close-cut crop of curly brown hair on his head sways with the action. “It is just funny,” he says with a bemused grin, “that in the end, his new bride wasn’t arranged, but coerced.”
I open my mouth and then shut it. Slanting a look Giulio’s way as the car slowly pulls away from the sidewalk, I note that he’s already buckled into his own seat with a cell phone in his hand as if he’s finished with the whole conversation.
“It’s not that he’s not attractive,” I say lamely, responding to Alonzo. “It’s just—I mean, I didn’t plan to get married. You know? And she did ask questions—what best friend wouldn’t? I mean, had this all been planned, she would’ve been there and probably have met him before today and…” I trail off as Alonzo’s shoulders shake with renewed amusement.
I huff out a breath, crossing my arms and looking away from the douchebag currently directing the town car. Technically,Giulio’s secret is safe. I consider all of my promises kept. Michelle’s like my other half—my sister from another mister, if you will. She doesn’t count.
Giulio finishes typing out a text before finally setting his phone down and looking at me. “I conduct business on behalf of the Luciani family,” he states. “This includes enterprises concerning shipments, property, and loans.”
I sit there for a second, confused until I remember what I said—that I didn’t even know what his profession was. I guess that’s a start. Before I can say anything, though, he speaks again.
“And so long as you abide by the rules I set out for you, you and your friend will remain unharmed.”
My upper lip curls back. “Rules,” I deadpan. “Great. Sounds super-duper fun.”
He narrows his gaze, but I merely turn and look out at the passing scenery. That only seems to irritate him because I watch, in the reflection, as his face shifts, brows lowering over eyes the same color as a frost giant’s. Loki ain’t got nothing on this man.
“Don’t you wish to know what those rules are?” he inquires.
I shrug, forcing a casual disinterest just to see if it annoys him further. “Oh, uh, yeah, sure.” I pause, turning to face him again and tilting my head to the side. “Are you guys still considered mobsters today or is that an outdated term?”
“It…” A tick starts up in his jaw. “We arenotmobsters,” he finally states. “We’re businessmen who are part of a family-oriented organization.”
I give him a bland “oh, suuuuuuuuure” look. His men had guns last night, and instead of reporting a murder, they cleaned up the previous bride’s body and made it disappear. If thatdoesn’t scream mobster, I don’t know what does. I know I’m not a genius, but I’m also not so naive as to believe that this man won’t tie me to a pair of concrete blocks and sink me in the ocean if I become the least bit threatening to his “family-oriented organization.”
Giulio gives a very put-upon sigh. I don’t know why. It’s not like he’s the one who’s suddenly had his whole life flipped upside down. That would be me. Though, to be fair, I guess being married to someone outside of his world so abruptly when it was obvious he had other plans would kind of turn his life on its head, too.
I think about that for a moment and come to the annoying realization that we’re both in a hard place. My eyes latch on to the ring on my finger and I hold it up.
“Do you want this back, by the way?” I ask, reaching to pull it off.
Giulio grabs my hand and puts it on the seat. “Do notevertake this ring off.” He glares at me.
