Page 12 of Heartless Sinner

“What do you expect between you and I, intimately,” I asked, as our next round of the tasting menu was brought to us.

“We’ll discuss that later.” Vincent’s voice was a purr. “Enjoy the meal.”

I knew in that moment that Vincent didn’t care as much about the food—he cared more about watching me enjoy it.

Part of me wanted to be stubborn. To eat my meal in silence with a blank face. But God, the food was just so good. I couldn’t keep myself from making noises of appreciation with each new bite I took. I felt like I was melting into my chair as I sampled the most delicious, exquisite food I’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

The wine was perfect too. Honestly, everything was perfect. This was like a dream date. The kind I’d foolishly hoped to find when I left the mafia life.

That would never happen now, I reminded myself. Instead I was going to be with exactly the kind of man that I’d always warned myself to never fall for.

Not that I was falling for him. I’d known him for less than twenty-four hours. That would be ridiculous. But I was attracted to him, and that seemed just as dangerous.

By the time we finished our meal, I was feeling pleasantly full, with a subtle buzz in my body from the alcohol. I hadn’t had a nice meal at a pleasant restaurant in ages, and I’d certainly never had a meal as amazing as this one. This was going to stick in my mind for the rest of my life.

Vincent smiled at me. It was… dare I say fond? “Enjoyable?”

“Very,” I admitted. “Probably the best meal I’ve had in my life.”

Vincent nodded, looking satisfied, but not in a smug way. It was in a quiet kind of way that I found I liked. It was the satisfaction of a job well done.

He paid, of course, and even wrote the server a little thank you note on the check. “They don’t accept tips or any kind of gratuity here,” he explained. “Following Japanese hospitality custom.”

Then he stood and offered me his arm. “Shall we walk off the meal and finish our talk?”

Our talk. Oh my God, like an idiot in all the course of the meal I’d forgotten what the purpose of this whole thing was. This wasn’t a date, and I’d asked him about the intimate aspect of our marriage.

I took his arm and allowed him to walk me out. “There’s one thing I’d like to address. Heirs. You’ll need them. Are you expecting… I mean…”

I stumbled over my words and felt my face heat up. I felt like an idiot schoolgirl all over again.

Vincent stopped walking before we reached the valet. “I would never force a woman to be with me against her will. I will never be cruel or hurt you. But I don’t think sex between us is going to be a problem.”

I swallowed hard. “You can’t possibly know that,” I retorted.

Vincent tugged on my arm and pressed me against him, his other arm coming around my waist. My hand landed on his chest and I could feel every bit of firm muscle underneath his sleek, dark gray suit. Jesus, he was firm everywhere, and I doubted that if I squeezed I’d get any give.

“If you think that I haven’t noticed how you look at me…” Vincent’s voice was low and heated, dripping with sex, and I could feel that lightning up my spine again.

“I…” I couldn’t complete the sentence. I didn’t even know what I was going to say.

Vincent’s free hand came up under my chin, tipping it up, up, up until his gaze locked on mine. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“Why don’t I take you home, and we’ll find out just how that part of our relationship will go?”

I should say no. I should tell him that I wasn’t interested—not until it was my duty as his wife. I was already planning to sell my soul for revenge, giving up my life to be with this dangerous, powerful man that I barely knew. I shouldn’t complicate the situation by having sex with him this quickly. It was the height of stupidity.

“Perhaps a little taste,” Vincent said—and then his mouth was on mine.

And I melted completely.

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Chapter Seven

Vincent

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