Page 42 of Ruined Vows
I grin, already opening my purse. “Charge it to hell.”
I scroll past the Ravella dress. I inserted my card and placed the order. Fucking hell. Like, I need an excuse to order more couture clothing.
But as I stare at the black screen, I catch my reflection. And something about the look in my own eyes makes my stomach twist. I’m enjoying this too much. Maybe I should be concerned about what Vukan has planned.
Maybe, but I shrug it off. I’m sure he thinks I’ll fall at his feet with a dinner date.
Joanne notices the concern in my eyes. Of course she does.
“What?” she asks, chin tilting. “You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you pretend you’re five steps ahead but you’re already halfway down the rabbit hole.”
I set my phone down and took a last sip of the drink. Then say it—softly, like I’m admitting to a crime.
“I don’t need to ruin him with lingerie.”
Joanne blinks. “Excuse me?”
“He’s already into me,” I say, the words tasting too sharp for comfort. “I see it. Ifeelit. Every time I look at him, it’s in his eyes and the way his mouth curves. But, I could be wrong.”
Joanne slams her hands on the table. “Shut the fuck up,” she grins. “You’re holding out on me.”
“I’m not—” I lie. However, it’s only when I look at Vukan that I see his eye soften with desire. I’ve learned over the years that honesty lies in what I don’t see, the type of things that can’t be faked.
It’s in how Ifeelhim lusting for me, the way the air stills, and how the silence speaks louder than words. It’s when I walk and feel his eyes checking out my ass.
“How do you know?” she asks, filled with curiosity.
I glance around, lean in, and lower my voice. “Because I landed a punch to his ribs during the boxing date… and the mansmiled.Like it turned him on.”
Joanne covers her mouth. “Stop it.”
“He called mePrincesswith a bruised rib and a hard-on, Jo.”
She’s practically vibrating in her chair. “You’re telling me he’s getting off on the idea of you trying to destroy him?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. He’s a man of mystery.” I don’t tell her that his eyes have layers of emotion that I’ve never seen anyone wear.“Tell me that’s not the most Borrelli-core romance ever,” I joke.
Joanne raises her eyebrows and gives me a knowing look. “You’ve met your match.”
“No. I’ve met my obsession.” I pause. “Which isexactlywhy I have to win.”
“You sure about that?” she asks, suddenly serious. “Because winning doesn’t always mean walking away.”
I don’t answer.
Because somewhere deep down, I already know?—
If Vukan keeps looking at me like I’m the only storm he’d walk into willingly…
I might not want to walk away at all.
I can’t tell Joanne that his kiss knocked my socks off. Itwas sexy, virile, hot, and so him.I definitely can’t tell her I was wet just sitting next to him in the car.
And that was before the boxing match.
