Page 18 of Impenitent Claim

Restored by the friendliness of the woman, I began to scrutinize the items on the shelf. I knew the moment I found the perfect candle. That scent had the power to send a bolt of heat straight to my groin. The wax was bright green, and the jar was textured glass. I grabbed the three I found on the shelf.

Retracing my steps, I was more successful at finding the other suggested items. A cozy blanket for her to wrap herself in. Goop for the face. Goop for the body. A clip for the hair—it had fake pearls, and I couldn’t stop brushing the pad of my finger over them.

Isabella would like this.

I could do this, find the perfect gifts to make her like me, to see that being my girl was a good thing. The waver of uncertainty ebbed. She would choose me.

“That’s the cutey I was telling you about,” Tana whispered to the woman behind the checkout counter.

I stopped, pawing through the mugs and other items set out to trap customers as they left the store. If our bratva ever opened a mercantile store, setting items like this at the end was genius. I added six more smaller trinkets to the cart.

“Oh, how adorable! A big thug like him trying to make something nice for his girl,” the other woman responded. “All I got from my man was a bunch of bills and lingerie on Valentine’s.”

“Mhhmm, I hear that,” Tana agreed. “It sure would be nice if more of our men folk took the time to curate the perfect fall basket as a gift. Look at everything he put in there!”

“Someone’s getting spoiled,” the clerk agreed.

A grin twitched on my lips. Their approval went a long way to settle the unease in the back of my mind. These gifts had to be perfect, exactly the kind of thing that would show Isabella that I wasn’t scary.

I set the basket on the counter, and Tana grinned at me as her coworker helped ring me up. “Did you find everything alright, hun?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did.” And then, I did something completely out of character. I smiled.

When I pushed the cart to the exit and lifted my bags, I heard the final verdict on my shopping adventure.

“Whoever she is, she sure lucked out.”

Tana sighed dreamily. “It’s nice when guys have a soft side. Isn’t that why we love The Beauty and The Beast? He makes an effort for her?”

“Well, speaking of beasts, I bet he’s got a monster hiding in his pants.” The other woman peered after me.

That was my cue to leave. While she seemed perfectly nice, there was only one woman for me.

Chapter 10 – Isabella

Two sleepless nights spent waiting, and here I was sipping more coffee. My nerves were fried, but the excitement coursing through me couldn’t be squashed.

He was going to come tonight. I couldfeelit.

It was time to prove once and for all that I wasn’t imagining the male intruder who walked in the shadows like some being of fiction. Once I did that, proved he was a flesh and blood male, I’d force myself to see the creep for what he really was: A danger. Having a stalker haunt me wasn’t safe, despite how thrilling it seemed.

“It’s never like he threatened me,” I argued, swirling the dregs of espresso in my cup.

Another sip of the black potion slipped past my lips. I needed to stay alert even once I hid under the covers if I was going to catch the person sneaking into my room.

Stupid, stupid girl!

I ignored that inner voice. It might be dumb to bargain with the ghost, but I had to make him understand the bribes were unacceptable. Whatever he wanted from me, it wasn’t his totake. I was a ship, caught in the current of the don’s agenda. On top of that, I was engaged, for chrissakes. There was already a twisted web of mob business that spun about my life, I didn’t need this complication.

Stretching out, my body ached in protest. To counter my stalled weight loss, Cecilia brought in a strict nutritionist and hired a trainer at the gym. We were in serious countdown mode to the big day, and I wasn’t perfect. The strega could scold, poke, and prod, but she would not make me feel bad about the way I looked. Thankfully, I had thick skin when it came to her. Because there were things about this wedding that I couldn’t fight, I submitted to her plots and schemes while promising myself small acts of rebellion.

The workout today had been nothing short of brutal.

“I hope it gets better,” I muttered.

While I wasn’t a fitness junkie, I enjoyed a good session in the gym. The trainer would see how hard I worked, how much I enjoyed the weights and Pilates, and she wouldn’t be such a drill sergeant. I had to believe that, or I might end up hating the gym.

But the new training regimen was the least of my concerns.

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