Page 347 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

“I want you to know whether you want me in your life or not, I will take care of you and our baby. You'll never want for anything if I can provide it. I don't want you to feel trapped—like you have to be with me because you can't afford to take care of her alone.”

She shook her head. “No. It's not like that. I want you. Not your money.”

The look of hope in Dom's face lifted the clamp she'd been holding around her heart. In a rush, she felt all the love and warmth she'd locked up spill out of her. She threw herself into his arms and he cradled her there in his lap, kissing her head and stroking her, murmuring softly in Italian.

After a while, he stood, lifting her easily in his arms, and carried her into her bedroom, where he lay her down and covered her body with his own, making love to her with a care that made it feel like a sacred ritual. Or a solemn promise.

“Ti amo, piccola mia,” he whispered. “I love you, little one.”

Chapter Thirteen

He woke to the feel of hot skin and hissed, realizing he had fallen asleep at Kate's and now the pre-dawn light was coming through the shades. He dematerialized immediately back to his place. A few moments later his phone rang.

“Good morning, bambina,” he said.

“Are you okay?” her voice was threaded with worry.

“Yes, I accidentally fell asleep at your place, but I'm safely home now.”

“Good,” she said with relief.

“What do you have going on today? May I take you to dinner tonight?”

“I don't have anything planned. Yeah. I'd like that.”

“Great. I'll pick you up at eight. Get some more sleep, okay?”

“Okay, you too.”

“Sweet dreams,” he said and hung up. Before he went and climbed in his own bed, he got online and ordered flowers to be delivered to her by noon with the note, “I'm sorry I hurt you.” He had plans for her that night, and he wanted to do his best to make amends before then.

After an hour or so of dozing, he found he couldn't sleep any more, anyway. He felt invigorated and a little nervous. After he showered, dressed and ate, he opened the safe in his office and picked out a big rectangular sapphire ring with diamonds around the band. If she didn't like it, they could go shopping for something else, but he didn't want to walk in empty handed.

Next, he called a local salon/spa and made an appointment for her to get the full treatment—facial, manicure/pedicure and cut and color. He decided she might be less likely to turn it down if he had them call her with the news, so he left it that way, with the instructions for them to call him back if she canceled or refused the appointments.

His final arrangement was with the restaurant, so he called there and asked to speak to a manager, cooking up a plan for their evening. He received the first text from Kate at 12:45 pm, that said, “Flowers made me cry. Thx.”

At 1:25 pm, after she would have heard from the salon, she texted, “I like when you take charge of me.” He was an absolute nancy because that nearly made him cry.

When he picked her up, she looked stunning. She had dyed her hair back to its natural whisky color, with several bold platinum chunks in the front for sass. It was cut shorter with an angle toward her chin, which emphasized her fine bone structure. She was wearing a retro sheath dress with wide, colored stripes. He felt little flutters of nervous energy coming from her. He drew her in for a kiss to calm her down. She rewarded him with one of her big smiles. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Hi.”

“You look amazing.”

She blushed. “Thanks. Do you like it?” she asked, turning her head to show off her new style.

“Of course I do. I always like it,” he smiled at her and she blushed even more. He held out his arm. “Shall we?”

He escorted her to the Mercedes, and held the door open for her, handing her in like a gentleman. It was a short drive, filled with quiet tension.

“Thank you for the flowers,” she murmured.

He tried to figure out if the tension was just related to the formality of the date following their recent estrangement, or whether she had rethought their relationship. He gave her a sidelong look, but she was just looking at her hands, examining her new manicure.

“Your nails look nice,” he said.

Okay, this was getting worse by the minute. He found he was sweating a bit from nerves himself. He found a place in the parking garage and escorted Kate into Poca Cosa, the site of their first dinner date.

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