Page 61 of The Proposal

I audibly gasp, but my husband throws back his head and cracks up laughing.

When I exit the bathroom, dressed and ready for bed, my eyes flicker towards my husband, who’s lying on top of the sheets, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. He’s been quiet all evening, seemingly lost in thought.

Something is troubling him, but I have no idea what. The Cosa Nostra is fraught with secrets, especially to anyone on the outside, so if it’s a business matter, I wouldn’t expect him to answer even if I asked the question.

Since coming to Australia, I’ve noticed how much Dante Mancini cares about the people in his life … his men, me, and even my sister. He’s a protector; it just comes naturally to him, and I gravitate towards that. It’s something I didn’t have growing up.

I move around to my side of the bed and pick up the hand cream from the bedside table, squeezing a small amount into the palm of my hand as I continue to observe my husband. He still hasn’t acknowledged my presence.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“Huh?” he replies, snapping out of his haze and turning his confused face in my direction.

“You seemed troubled by something.”

A small smile tugs at his lips as his arms reach for me. “Come here,” he murmurs.

It doesn’t go unnoticed that he brushed off my concern, but I know not to push the subject.

The moment I place one knee on the mattress, he grasps my waist, and I release a small squeak when he tugs me down on top of him.

“How are you feeling,Bellezza?” he asks.

“Fine … a little concerned about you, though.”

“I meant down there.” He juts his chin in that direction.

“Oh … umm … good.”

When I used the bathroom after we had sex, I experienced a little discomfort; it stung, but everything seems back to normal now.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says, flipping us over so he’s now on top. “I need to lose myself in my wife.”

Although his words have me smiling, they also confirm that there’s something else going on … something he’s not prepared to talk about. It is one of the pitfalls of his world. It could be anything, including pending danger, and that thought knots my stomach.

My eyes scan over his face as he stares down at me, and I’m surprised by the level of concern I’m feeling for this man and his safety. It proves that I care about him more than I’d ever admit.

“Are you ready for another lesson?” he asks, arching one of his brows.

“Lesson?”

“Yes, in the art of how to please your husband. I can teach you far better than those books Lucia is reading.”

I feel heat flame my cheeks. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

“Do you wanna lick my salami stick, Arabella?”

“Oh, God,” I groan, burying my face in the crook of his neck.

I feel his chest rumble with laughter as he draws back to make eye contact. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

“I should’ve clued on that something was going on because she’s been comparing the size of men’s anatomy since she arrived. Specifically, putting them into either thesalsiccia piccola o grande(Small or large sausage) category.

That has him chuckling again. “I definitely fall into thesalsiccia grande(Large sausage)category.”

“Lucia has already established that.”

His eyebrows rise in surprise. “Have you been bragging about me to her?”

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