Page 52 of Debt to the Mafia King
Instantly, Leah’s face closed down. There was nothing in her face, not even nerves. I was an asshole.
“Ok.” Reaching for her, I touched her cheek. Wiping off the smudge of flour and examining it. “I was joking.”
Leah stared at me for a second, her eyes wide. “Ok.” She drew out the word, her eyes darting every which way before landing on mine again. “I didn’t know you did that.”
Behind her, Cathy cackled out a laugh, and I realized Leah had made a joke at my expense. It should have made me mad, but for some reason, it warmed my heart a little.
“So what are you making?” Turning, I surveyed the damage and right there, black, smoking, and no doubt as hard as a brick was a loaf of bread.
The corners of my mouth twitched. “Luckily, we won’t have to eat that with dinner.”
“I’m sure Cathy has another one waiting. We won’t go hungry.”
“Not tonight, she won’t. We are going out. Did you not see my note?”
Leah’s face went tight with confusion. “Note?”
Again, I reached for her cheek, even though there was nothing on it. Not even makeup. My fingers slid down her cheek.
God, her skin was soft. I’d missed the feel of her skin under mine. I’d missed it more than I realized. Gently, I drew her to me, and out of the corner of my eyes, I watched as Cathy and the younger cook scuttled out of the smoky kitchen to give us some privacy.
“I didn’t get a note.” For a second, Leah closed her eyes. Everyone was right, this is what she needed, softness and kindness. A gentle touch, and I’d been trying to be a better man for her. The kind of man who made her happy, even if it was just for a year.
Sliding my hand under her ponytail, Iyanked her into my body. Leah’s breath left her lungs in a whoosh. She tilted her face up to mine.
“I can see that. I sent it up with the flowers. Or didn’t you get those either?”
A line appeared between her eyebrows. “You sent the flowers? They just appeared in a vase, I thought—”
I mumbled something under my breath. The staff had put them in a vase before Leah had even seen that they were specifically for her. It was my fault because I should have told them. But it did make me wonder if Leah had gotten the other small gifts I had sent her. Or had the staff just put them away before she could see them?
“It looks like there has been some mix-ups. I’ve been trying to make it up to you.” My eyes scanned her face and glued themselves to her half-parted lips.
God, they were kissable.
“I’ve been trying to say I’m sorry with gifts, things I thought you would like.”
“I don’t need gifts, Viktor.”
“I know, but isn’t a husband allowed to spoil his wife?”
Her face twisted. “I didn’t think—”
My fingers grew more forceful as I turned her back to me and tightened my grip on her waist.
“You didn’t think I wanted you to be my wife.” Flexing my hips into her, I heard her gasp. “Why would you think that?”
She didn’t answer me at first. “You haven’t come to my room in weeks.”
It was my turn to gasp. “I know I’ve been neglecting you, but I have honestly been busy, and then I had to start—” shaking my head, I fell silent. I had been about to say that I wanted things to change between us. But it sounded too much like I was making excuses, and I wasn’t that type of man.
Never apologize. Never back down.
I might want our relationship to be less combative, but that didn’t meanI would say it out loud.
“Leah, will you accompany me to a party tonight at my father’s house?”
“A party? You want to be seen in public with me?”
