Page 71 of Sinful Bargains

A flicker of a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stepped closer, his eyes drinking me in. “With you on my arm, they’ll never stop looking, sweetheart.”

Heat curled low in my stomach, but I held his gaze, matching his grin with one of my own.

He placed the lotus on the kitchen counter beside us, hisfingers lingering on the petals. “Rosa picked this out for you down at the flower shop,” he said. “She says the lotus is a symbol of growth. Apparently, when it rises from the mud, it comes out untouched by the dirt. Still beautiful. Still strong.” His crystal eyes flickered back to mine. “Like you.”

My heart stumbled over itself. I swallowed, reaching out to brush my fingers over the smooth petals. “You sure about that?” I asked.

Joey tilted his head, stepping even closer. “Never been more sure of anything inallmy life.”

My eyes studied him. He held up the velvet box. “I got you something else, too.”

A slow smile tugged at my lips. I wasn’t used to being spoiled, to having someone go out of their way just to give me something beautiful. But I had a feeling this kind of treatment would become second nature with Joey. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t excite me.

With a man like him, I had a feeling gifts weren’t just about luxury—they were aboutpossession.Protection. A silent way of sayingyou’re mine.

“Oh?” I tilted my head, my gaze flicking to the box in his hand. “What is it?”

His lips curved into a knowing smirk. “Turn around,” he instructed.

I spun on my heels, lifting my hair to clear the nape of my neck. I felt the brush of his knuckles against my skin. His body pressed closer—close enough that his heat seeped into me. I was sure that was intentional, yet I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I let my hair fall, my fingers trailing over the cool pearls now resting against my skin. A smirk played at my lips as I turned to meet his gaze.

“Beautiful,” he hummed. His eyes roamed over me, and I couldn’t help but shiver under his approval. It was almost likehe was photographing me in his memory, so he’d never forget this moment.

“I love it,” I admitted, letting my fingers trace the delicate strand. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he said, smirking as he stepped closer, erasing the last bit of space between us. “It suits you—classy and beautiful, just like you.”

His words sent a warm rush through me. I met his gaze, my chest tightening at the intensity in his eyes. I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm beneath my lips, his scent—smoke and cologne—wrapping around me, dangerous and addictive.

I knew if we didn’t leave now, we wouldn’t leave at all. I grabbed his hand, lacing my fingers through his, and tugged him toward the door. “Come on,” I said, forcing a teasing smile. “If we don’t leave now, we never will.”

This was our second time on the Staten Island ferry. This time, I wasn’t running away from anywhere. I was heading to Manhattan with him. And this time, I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than this moment with him. The beauty of the ferry at nighttime struck me in a way it never had before—the dark water glistening under the moonlight, the city calling in the distance with its lights shimmering.

“It’s beautiful tonight,” I murmured, half to myself and half to Joey.

“Yeah,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at the skyline—he was looking at me. “Sure is.”

A smile tugged at my lips as I recalled, “Do you remember that night I saw you here?”

“I remember.” His eyes met mine, his hand pressing against my own. “But I don’t like to think about that version of you.” He exhaled, his gaze searching mine. “Look at you now. The woman you were that night—she’s just a shadow of who you are today. They’re not even the same person.”

I wanted to kiss him so badly. The need surged through me, fierce and overwhelming, shutting out every other thought in my mind. Every word he said, every glance my way, every smile that tugged on his lips pulled me closer to the edge of no return. And I didn’t care if anyone saw. I didn’t care what they thought of it. I wanted him to kiss me. My eyes linger on him—on the curve of his mouth, the way the moonlight softened his features, the intensity in his eyes that seemed to hold only me. His hand brushed mine, and I nearly forgot how to breathe. Every nerve in my body went taut, waiting, aching for more.

The ferry’s horn blared in the distance, snapping me back to reality. My eyes fluttered towards the glittery skyline of New York City ahead of us.

ADRIANA

Joey hailed a cab, and we sped through the streets until we reached the Theatre on 44th Street, where Look After Lulu lit up the marquee. “A Broadway show?” I asked, barely able to contain my excitement.

“Only the best for you,” he said, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He stood on the curb, helping me out of the back of the cab.

I pushed aside the nagging thought about how he never bothered to pay the driver, and how the cab driver didn’t even expect it. It was a detail I couldn’t ignore, yet I chose to. I silenced that voice in my head, refusing to see him for anything other than the man standing right in front of me—the one whose presence consumed my every thought.

He led the way into the building, as everyone we passed greeted him like he was some sort of celebrity, as if he were JFK himself. We settled into the plush, front-row seats. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Joey watching me instead of the show.

“Watch the show, Joey,” I whispered, nudging him with my elbow.

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