Page 24 of Mafia Men Need Love Too
It fit like it had been custom-made for her. Like it had been waiting here for her to find it.
The precious.
“We’ll take it,” he said to Stanley.
That snapped her out of her emerald-induced stupor. “Oh, no, I’m sure it’s way too much.”
“Anything that puts this look on your face is highly worth it, fiorellino,” he murmured.
She made the mistake of looking him in the eye then. He was beautiful all the time. But when he was looking at her like he wanted to devour her whole?
Next level, otherworldly STUNNING.
With this ring on her finger and that look on his face, the odds of her being able to come out of this marriage with her heart intact were getting…uncomfortable.
How did things just keep getting more and more complicated for her? Was there a rock bottom to this situation at any point?
All signs were pointing to giant, sparkly, expensive, emerald-colored no.
Chapter 14
Nico had never touched drugs. His need for control simply wouldn’t allow it.
But the joy on River’s face when she saw that ring was a drug he could easily become addicted to. Especially if she ever looked at him like that.
Realistically, he probably didn’t have to worry about that. Not after everything she’d been through. Wouldn’t stop him from trying, though. Which made him, what? A masochist?
“So, what now?”
Nico glanced down at River to find her smiling up at him. “Wherever you’d like to shop.”
A frown line crossed her smooth brow. “Shop for what?”
Well, hell. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Clothes, handbags, accessories…anything you’d need to convince anyone you’re marrying into the mafia.”
“Oh. You mean my clothes aren’t good enough for you?”
His heart skipped a beat. Damn it! This is exactly what he’d been afraid of. He’d hurt her feelings, and he didn’t even give a shit what she wore! He was going to beat the fuck out of Van when he saw him next for even putting this stupid fucking idea in his head to begin with. First, he was going to rip the bastard’s arm off. Then, he was going to?—
River barked out a laugh that ended in a snort, then elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m just kidding. You should see your face! Seriously, though, I get it. If this ring is my new style bar, my current clothes are just not there.”
Nico let out a gusty sigh. Jesus. The emotional whiplash this woman gave him was going to kill him. Although he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy this more playful side of her. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, fiorellino.”
“Sorry.” But she didn’t sound sorry at all, which made him smile. “So, where should I shop? What should I buy?”
That wiped the smile right off his face. “I actually have no idea.”
She glanced down at her athletic pants and hooded sweater jacket. “Well, we might have a problem then, because obviously, neither do I.” She shrugged. “Clothes have never been that important to me.”
“You’re beautiful in whatever you decide to wear,” he said. “But if we need to put on a show…”
She waved him off. “It’s fine. Really. I’m just not sure how to proceed. I mean, it’s not like I can Google ‘how to dress like a mafia wife’ and get any appreciable results.” Her gaze shifted over him. “You have good style. Where do you shop?”
He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had to go in search of his own clothes. “I don’t shop. The tailor just shows up at my house, but he only does menswear.”
“Well…are there, like, rich people consultants or something?”
It occurred to him then that he did know someone who could blend into any situation and always knew the right things to say. Someone who had the kind of expensive taste any mafia wife would appreciate. Someone who could lie like it was a paid job and pull off any con, no matter how crazy or Mission Impossible-like.
