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Fuck. I can’t tell if he’s just some kind of cold, sick bastard or if he’s playing with me.

“That should make it all easier,” I say.

“I don’t really do repeat performances, not unless the girl’s got talent.”

He’s so disgusting. My pulse spikes. “What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything.”

“Fuck whoever I want?” he asks softly, a deadly note sliding through his voice.

For a moment, I’m nonplussed. I’ve met men who are like that. I’ve seen what they do to the women they use. I swallow. I’m no fucking whore. I grit my teeth. This is just so fitting with the picture in my head of the Murphy men.

“Is that something you want?”

His mouth lifts at the corner, but there’s not a drop of warmth there. “I’mnot interested in fucking men.”

I press my lips together. “I really don’t care what you do. In fact?—”

“I meant, would you do that for me?”

“Yes,” I say. “I understood what you meant.”

“And?”

“If we were married, then… I guess we’d have to see.”

“I guess we would,” he says.

Trying to work out the answer he wants is almost impossible. I try and see through the no-shits-given expression, the casual stance that seems to vibrate, and then it clicks.

Mafia men are mafia men, no matter where they come from.

They like to own. To possess.

Some love sharing but… there’s something there, in those green eyes that gives me hope.

This man doesn’t like sharing. At least, I don’t think he does.

But I bet he’d demand all the marital joys.

I can stomach sleeping with him. I don’t think I can stomach being his personal whore. The man doesn’t have to like me and I don’t have to like him, but a fucked-up marriage of convenience, one with a definite use-by date is still a marriage, and to sell it we’d have to be it.

Married.

Miserable.

Sex. No sex. I’d prefer the latter, no matter what that throb and lick of heat in my pussy says. But I’ll do what I have to do.

I’m going to be Pakhan.

That means something.

Of course, that’s if I can change his mind.

“The thing is, I don’t think I’d want to sleep with the men you want me to sleep with. Or women, for that matter.”

That makes him smile.

“But the marriage needs to appear real. We have to look like a couple in love.”