Page 178 of Sins of Arrogance

“You didn’t keep any­thing back from me this time.” Her eyes glis­ten. “You were all here.”

“I’m al­ways all here when I’m with you.”

“But you don’t al­ways let me see that all. In fact, you never have be­fore.”

Is that why she was so happy she or­gasmed a sec­ond time with al­most no stim­u­la­tion? Hell, the first time she came didn’t take any time at all ei­ther.

Is she that turned on by the real Michael Fitzger­ald?

For the first time in my life, shock has my tongue com­pletely tied.

One truth re­ver­ber­ates through my mind. If I want to keep my wife, I have to give her my true self, not the one I think won’t scare her.

Bleedin’ hell. I’m not sure mo stór is afraid of any­thing.

Who would have guessed the key to her will­ing­ness to stay with me would be me giv­ing her full ac­cess to the so­ciopath she’s mar­ried to?

Chap­ter 44: Con­fes­sions of a Mob­ster & His Mob Princess

KARA

I’m still reel­ing from what hap­pened on the he­li­copter ride into the City when the ar­mored SUV glides to a halt in front of a build­ing near the Meat­pack­ing Dis­trict down­town.

What I in­sti­gated.

And I’m not em­bar­rassed. Not that the men know what we did. Not that I was so hot for my hus­band, I came twice and close to­gether.

None of it.

Be­cause Mick didn’t hold any­thing back and I loved ev­ery sec­ond of it.

I glance up and see a Hisashi above open dou­ble doors. There are three styl­ized let­ters in all cap­i­tals on the wooden awning: TAO.

“I’ve heard about this place.” But I never thought I’d get a chance to eat here.

It’s huge and even I know se­cu­rity is a lo­gis­ti­cal night­mare in a restau­rant of this size and as busy as it is. But it’s one of the top Asian fu­sion places to eat in the City.

I blink up at Mick. “You’re tak­ing me here?”

“Aye.” He doesn’t tease me for ask­ing, since where else would he be tak­ing me?

But I’m still hav­ing trou­ble tak­ing it in.

“You don’t even like Asian fu­sion.” I take his hand.

He laces our fin­gers and holds my hand tight. My heart goes kathump.

“Nah. I pre­fer a good Irish stew any day,” he says. “But you like it and this is a date.”

I think I maybe men­tioned how much I like this style of food once in his hear­ing. And he re­mem­bered.

Be­cause he’s ob­sessed with me.

Heck, he’s prob­a­bly aware of ev­ery sin­gle time I’ve or­dered food from my fa­vorite Asian fu­sion restau­rant on Long Is­land for lunch.

“I guess be­ing stalked by my hus­band isn’t all bad,” I tease.

He leans down and kisses me. Right there on the side­walk in front of the passers-by.