Page 105 of Mafia Bride
Watching his body flow and move while half clothed is something like an awakening. Every. Single. Day. At this point, I’m convinced he’s doing it on purpose.
We go to the markets for fresh croissants and espresso. While there, he picks out a tiny, strappy red bathing suit from a stall that screams “for tourists.”
Red. Just like the clothes he bought me. I put it on at the house and can’t shake the feeling this is exactly what I’d want to wear in Greece while catching the attention of cute frat boys.
I watch Santino outside, stretching and collecting towels for our trip to the beach. He’s better than a frat boy. He’s everything a frat boy would want to be—powerful, sexy, commanding. He’s given me the attention all the other girls would want.
He’s mine.
The words feel strange. Not quite a lie, but an unbelievable truth.
I focus on twisting my hair up into something that looks effortless and cute, which is more difficult than making it look as if it took all afternoon.
Rosetta was the one who would do my hair, my whole life growing up, until she was gone.
“Rosetta, what would you do?” I whisper, still watching the king outside. He doesn’t pace, only scrolls through his phone, like waiting for me doesn’t bother him. “Why does he care so much about me? Why aren’t you here to help me figure this out?”
Because she’s dead, like everyone else.
Except Santino, for now.
A tight knot creases in my chest, and I leave the room in the hopes it’ll loosen with a change of scenery.
Downstairs, Santino smiles when I walk outside. It immediately slides off his face and is replaced with concern. Because, for some fucked reason, he cares about me.
“What’s the matter?”
“Just thinking.” I try to wave it off.
He frowns with disbelief. I’m going to have to work harder than this.
“Do you like it?” I open the robe to show him the red bikini. His eyes go from incredulous to ravenous, and I close it up before I become a meal.
Without a word, he throws his arm across my shoulders and escorts me down to the private beach. Immaculate blue water rolls across the postcard-pristine sand.
There’s a cabana set up in the center with two comfortable loungers around a table full of drinks and snacks.
We settle into the armless loungers set close together, and it only takes a minute before my body almost instinctively rolls into him. We haven’t shared a bed yet, but the night before, we spent it curled up on the couch watching old TV shows and now I gravitate back to that position.
I hear his heartbeat and the crash of ocean waves. Everything smells salty and musky. A cool breeze dances through the spaces between us.
“How long can you be away from work?” I ask, suddenly feeling guilty.
“You want to go home?”
“No, no.” I shake my head slightly against him. “I just wish...” The words feel stuck in my throat but I fight to unstick them. “I wish we could be alone like this forever.”
“Pretend this moment is forever.”
I wish I could see his face. Do I make him feel the same way? Does he get flustered around me? Do I make him feel strange things he must fight? Or does the king never get flustered? “Memorize it,” he continues. “Because it could end any time.”
He lifts my chin and captures my lips with his own. It’s a beautiful kiss, one that leaves every inch of skin in tingles. My body tries to crawl up his and force it back down, just to enjoy this moment for as long as possible.
Because it could end at any time.
“Why?” I ask. “How about you quit doing whatever it is you do.”
“You think it’s so easy?”
