Page 38 of Mafia Men Need Love Too
“And that asshole wasn’t even part of my world! He was just some lowlife off the street, for fuck’s sake! What was I supposed to do? Let him hurt you right in front of me? Would that make you happy?”
“No, that definitely would not make me happy.”
“I did not deserve to have you flinch away from me.”
“I agree.”
“There’s no…wait…what?”
The shift on his face from rage to confusion was adorable. She gave him a palms up gesture. “I agree with everything you’re saying. You haven’t done anything to make me react the way I did. I’m sorry.”
The apology seemed to take what remained of the starch out of his spine. “Then…why? Why did you flinch?”
She sighed. “Does it matter?”
“It does to me,” he said dryly.
Because of course it did. “I’d really rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at her in a way that set her teeth on edge. She didn’t need his judgement; she was for sure judging herself harshly enough for both of them. “Oh, I mind.”
Well, that sounded snarky, and she didn’t appreciate it. “Look, I said I was sorry. It won’t happen again. I don’t owe you more than that. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to have some secrets.”
He took a step closer. She stood her ground but had to crane her head back to maintain eye contact, which was just rude.
Stupid, tall, arrogant, snarky jerk.
“That’s exactly what it means,” he seethed. “Keep whatever secrets you want from other people. But, by God, you’ll tell me everything, because in my world, our lives depend on it.”
OK, now she was pissed. “I’m allowed to have feelings that I don’t share! There’s stuff I’m not exactly proud of, and I don’t owe you any explanations!”
“Feelings you’re not proud of,” he repeated. “That’s a start. What were you feeling tonight when you flinched?”
She growled—actually growled—like a rabid wolf. “Just leave it alone.”
He grabbed her shoulders when she tried to turn and walk away, yanking her up against him. “I won’t. Tell me what you were feeling, damn it!”
“It doesn’t matter! What I’m feeling is not something that lives depend on.”
His growl sounded way more threatening than hers. On a good day, she would’ve taken it as the warning it was. But this was not a good day. “Tell me,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
“And if I don’t?” She clamped her lips together dramatically.
That’s when he changed tactics. He let go of her arm to trail one of his fingertips lazily down her cheek. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “We’re not going anywhere until you answer me. I can stand here all night. Can you?”
His voice slid down her skin like silk. Good Lord, with that voice he should narrate audio books. He’d make way more money doing that than he did in the mafia. Less stress, too, she’d imagine.
Then he leaned back, shot a pointed glance down at her shoes, and gave her a very self-satisfied smirk.
Damn him! The stupid pointy shoes Tenley made her buy were pinching the holy hell out of her poor feet and had been all evening. She’d be lucky if she could tolerate another minute standing toe-to-toe with him, and he knew it.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, ignoring the screaming pain in her poor, beleaguered arches and toes. “I don’t know why you’re pushing this so hard.”
“I don’t know why you’re resisting telling me.” He crossed his arms over his chest again. “It’s immature, frankly.”
Later, if asked, she would swear this was the moment she had a little aneurysm burst in her brain. It was the only explanation she had for the red haze that descended over her as his words pricked her brain. It was the aneurysm that made her plant both her hands on his shoulders and shove him back with all her strength.
The fact that he barely budged only fueled her rage.
