Page 91 of Roman

I lifted my head and met my own gaze. He said he wanted me.

I thought of his declarations that he didn’t love. I disagreed. I didn’t have much experience with men, but the way he looked at me sometimes said more than simply caring. I pulled at the neckline on my shirt, exposing the tiny marks he’d left behind. Love bites, sucking kisses to my skin. Those weren’t from a man only interested in protecting me.

Were they?

He loved his nonna. That was undeniable. He spoke of his brother with affection. His new sister-in-law. Even Aldo and Vi. Surely a man who felt fondness for that many people was capable of romantic love?

He certainly enjoyed the physical aspects of our relationship. He admitted to needing me in a way he’d never needed another person. He said I calmed him.

That had to mean something?

My own feelings for him were complex and unsettling. I had never wanted another man. Never needed to feel anyone’s touch the way I craved his. Despite the fact that he was a dangerous man, he made me feel safe and protected. I knew, without a doubt, he would never hurt me. He went out of his way to make me comfortable. I loved how he teased me when we were alone. When he could just be Roman. Part of me wondered if he felt that way with anyone else. He wasn’t the powerful mob man with me. The business tycoon. The lethal enemy. The brother who had to be strong. The grandson who had to be vigilant. The friend who couldn’t give all of himself to the relationship because he couldn’t show any weakness. With me, he was simply Roman.

I tossed my hair and pinched some color back into my cheeks. I could do that for him. Be that soft spot I thought he needed, even if he didn’t or couldn’t see it.

Together, we could find our path and make this work. Build a life on what we offered each other—something the rest of the world knew nothing about.

I shut my eyes and nodded, my decision made.

I could do this.

Roman was at his desk, staring at something in his hand. He looked up as I came in, and for a moment, we regarded each other in silence. He stood, rounding the desk and leaning on the wood. He held out his hand, and I let him take mine and pull me close.

“It has to be this way, Little Tiger. There is no other solution.”

“I know.”

“So you will marry me?”

“Yes.”

He touched my cheek. “Good girl. I will arrange it all.”

I frowned then nodded.

“What?” he asked.

“I don’t get a say at all?”

“You can have anything you want, you only have to ask.”

“I would just like something pretty about it to remember. Some flowers or something,” I replied.

He frowned. “I will make sure of it.” Then he pressed a box into my hand. “We can start with this.”

I traced my finger over the faded velvet, almost afraid of what was inside. I peered up to see Roman watching me, a smile on his lips. “Never what I expect,” he murmured and took the box from my hands. “Why are you shaking?” he asked.

“Because what is in here will change everything.”

“Oh, Little Tiger, everything already has.” Then he opened the box.

I gasped at the beautiful ring, the brilliant diamond catching the sunlight, the beautiful green of the emeralds setting off the unique setting.

“My great-grandmother wore this ring. She was Irish, and my great-grandfather made this to match her eyes. My nonna wore it as well. My mother wore it on occasion, although my father insisted on buying her a different wedding ring. It goes to the child with the green eyes. Or if there are none, the firstborn.” He slipped the ring onto my finger, the metal feeling cold and heavy on my skin. “A perfect fit.”

I stared down at the stunning piece of jewelry. I had never in my wildest dreams thought I would wear a piece so beautiful.

“Roman,” I breathed out. “It’s—” I shook my head, at a loss for words.