Page 73 of Vicious Vows

His encouragement did nothing for me.

“Hurry up and get me that drink,” I said. The room spun and my legs wobbled when I got up and joined him by the window. “I’m going to need it.”

“You might have had enough.” He emptied the last of the bottle into my flute. “You drank it all.”

“It’s been a long day, and it’s about to get longer.” I pushed the rim of the glass to my lips as Marchello entered the room.

He was as impeccable as he had been when we left the penthouse this morning. Even though he had removed his jacket and tie, he still looked every bit the meticulous businessman slash gangster.

I, on the other hand, didn’t hold up as well. I had cried most of my eye makeup off at the dealership and lost the rest of it during my afternoon drinking binge.

“Ricardo.” Marchello thumbed toward the hallway. “I’ll take it from here.”

Ricardo set the empty bottle on the bar and came out from behind it.

“You don’t have to go.” I chugged the rest of my drink. “We’re not done shopping.”

“We can pick up where we left off tomorrow.” He kissed my cheek. “Please try to keep yourself in check.”

“You mean try to behave?” I glanced at Marchello. “Not even he can make me do that.”

“Ricardo.” Marchello nodded toward the hallway. “Now.”

“Good night.” Ricardo scurried out of the room like a nervous church mouse.

“Why are you so mean to him?” I asked Marchello.

“That was me being polite.”

I went around the bar and checked the mini-refrigerator. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“We’re out of champagne.” I leaned against the bar, steadying myself against the chilled granite.

“You don’t need any more champagne.”

“I don’t need a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want them.”Why did I say that?“Not that I want you.”

“I’m going to order us dinner,” he said.

“I’m not hungry.” I pushed past him, swayed over to the couch, and plopped down next to the laptop. “I need your credit card.”

Without arguing or hesitating, he reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He opened it and slipped out a black credit card.

I’m about to exceed your limit.

He strutted toward me, unbothered by my request.

Why isn’t he fighting with me?

He held the card in front of me. “Have at it.”

“I don’t think you can afford me.”

“I guess that depends on what you mean.”

Snatching the card from him, I rolled my eyes. “It’s me who can’t afford you, considering I lost my inheritance today.”

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