Page 92 of The Mountain Man's Mail-Order Mafia Princess
My fingers trembled once against her shoulder.
She sat on her heels and wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb. “Was that enough following?”
I pulled her up and kissed her. “You can lead whenever you want.”
“That’s an excellent policy.”
Steam clouded the mirror.
I wrapped a towel around Talia and used another on myself. She picked up the red dress as we left the bathroom and hung it from the bedroom door.
“You need water,” she said.
“So do you.”
“I already drank mine.”
“You drank it before the shower.”
“You’re learning.”
Talia put on one of my clean shirts while I dragged on lounge pants and brought two glasses of water from the kitchenette.
She sat against the headboard with her curls damp and tangled, bare legs stretched across the sheet.
Her diamonds remained in the handbag on the table. The red dress hung from the bedroom door again.
I handed her a glass.
Talia drank half, then rested it on the nightstand.
“Daddy is going to call tomorrow,” she said.
“Probably.”
“He may call tonight.”
“Will you answer?”
“If I’m awake.”
“He won’t like that.”
“He’ll survive.”
She studied me. “You aren’t worried?”
“I’m worried about several things.”
“Which ones?”
“Money, school applications, winter roads, internet, and how much closet space you think exists in this room.”
Talia glanced toward the dresser. “One drawer isn’t a sustainable arrangement.”
“Agreed.”
“You said you wanted a partner.”
