Page 152 of Claimed At First Sight

“Work on what?” she asks.

“The eye-rolling. It’s becoming excessive.”

She scowls at me. “It’s necessary with you.”

The corner of my mouth twitches, but I suppress it, aiming for a stern expression.

“Once we’re married, I’ll expect improvements.”

A groan escapes her, loud enough that several nearby customers look over.

“There it is,” she mumbles.

“What?” I ask, lifting a brow.

“The thing where we’re having a perfectly pleasant afternoon and you insist on ruining it.”

I lean back in my chair. “Discussing our future isn’t ruining it.”

“For you, maybe.”

“It’s an important topic.”

“How is eye-rolling important?”

“It shows disrespect. I can’t have that in my wife.”

She points the remainder of her pastry at me. “Good thing then I’m not going to be your wife, Don Maximo.”

I smile, and she immediately looks suspicious again.

“I’ll spare you my optimistic response then,” I reply.

“Good.” She pops the last bite of pastry into her mouth. “They’re getting boring.”

I take a sip of my espresso, but never take my eyes off her. Mia glances out the window. People move along the sidewalk as the snow falls harder now.

Then her gaze catches on something and her eyes sparkle. Whatever has caught her attention, she’s already committed to.

Following her line of sight, I suppress an inward groan. It isn’t difficult to guess what’s coming next.

She pushes back her chair and stands. The guards at the next table rise as well, but I wave them off. There are enough men outside to keep an eye on her.

The bell above the café door chimes as Mia steps onto the sidewalk. She heads straight for a stand of tourist brochures, studies them for all of three seconds, then plucks one free with an expression of unmistakable triumph before hurrying back inside.

She places it between us on the table. When I finally lower my gaze, the cover confirms what I expected.

Navy Pier, the Ferris wheel dominating the front.

“No,” I say immediately.

Her eyes widen with exaggerated innocence.

“You haven’t even heard my suggestion.”

I slide the brochure back across the table. “It’s the Ferris wheel, and you want to go on it.”

“Yes, I do.”