Page 76 of Ruthless God

I bit my lip. “No?”

His eyes twinkled as he shook his head. “No. I like easy access to you all day.”

“All day?” I asked, feeling excited. “You mean you’ll be here all day? With me?”

“Yup. What would you like to do today?”

There were just so many things I wanted to do with Massimo. “Can we just stay in?”

I selfishly didn’t want to share him with the world. His eyes softened as he nodded, grabbing the dress. He put it on me and pulled me up until I was standing in front of him. I tilted my head back to look at him.

That unreadable expression was back on his face. The effect it had on me was the same. My heart raced.

“Let’s go eat breakfast.”

“Are you going to cook?” I asked, unable to stop the look of surprise on my face.

He seemed amused. “You don’t think I can?”

I looked down at his hands. Capable hands at that. But cooking?

He tapped the tip of my nose. “I cooked for my siblings growing up when my dad went through one of his fits and—got rid of all the house staff.”

I blinked, unsure if I really heard that odd note in his voice when he said “got rid” of the house staff. Perhaps I did. I had heard rumors of the late Amadeo De Luca. There wasn’t anything good about the rumors, but then, Massimo’s reputation had far surpassed his father’s ruthlessness, and here I was, wanting to get as close to him as possible.

“You don’t really talk about your parents or your childhood often, do you?” I asked.

“There’s not much to say,” he answered carefully.

Now it was my turn to shoot him the same look he shot me. “I wouldn’t say not much. I’m sure both of those things had impacted you and made you the man you are today.”

He grabbed my hand and led me out of the bedroom. “And what man is that?”

“A kind one,” I said softly.

He stopped in the middle of the stairs and turned to me. In this position, we were almost at eye level. “There’s that word again.Kind.You really think I’m kind?”

“Maybe not kind to other people,” I said quietly. And I knew that to be true. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe my husband didn’t more than earn that reputation of his as the King of Las Vegas. “But you’re kind to me. No one has ever been kind to me like you before.”

Something like pain and anger moved through his eyes. He wrapped his arms around my waist and twisted me around until I was carried up in his arms. I clung to him. “It kills me that you even say that,” he said gruffly.

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize, baby. But you might want to hold me while I calm down and try to think of a goodreason I shouldn’t fly straight to Chicago and kill Andre with my bare hands.”

I blinked. “Youcan’tkill Andre.”

“Can’t I?” he challenged.

“I know you can,” I said as he walked us down the stairs. I tightened my hold around him as he walked to the kitchen and placed me on top of the island, moving in between my legs. “You shouldn’t though.”

He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, there was still that dark shadow there that told me he was still thinking about killing Andre.

“Thank you,” I said.

He frowned. “For what?”

“For being angry on my behalf.”

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