Page 93 of Urgent Vows
"I wasn't playing for an audience." That was supposed to be private. I'd waited to go to the piano until I knew none of the rest of the family was in the house.
"I know." He's got his don face on, all stoic and unfeeling, but I know he's furious.
That rage is vibrating between us.
If I can know him like this, after such a short time, and he's about as revealing as a smoke bomb, why doesn't he know me better? I opened a vein for him and it's like he just stepped right through the blood without noticing.
How had the recording been taken? One of the staff? One of my father's men? And why post it online? What did they have to gain from it?
"Over a million people have seen this." They saw my pain, my attempt at emotional healing because that's what playing the piano that day was for me. A chance to release feelings too heavy to carry, to let go of pain I had no other outlet for.
"But none of them know you."
I look up at him. "What do you mean?"
"It's not in context,mi dolce bellezza. They don't know you're working through your hurt, that you're finding the one small bit of peace you can in a home that is filled with torment for you."
How can he understand me so well? "You said you don't know me."
"I lied. It's an interrogation technique."
Smart ass. I don't say it out loud this time. I already got away with calling him an asshole; I'm not going to push my luck. "You said you only know that you like having sex with me."
"If you believed me maybe I'm not the onlygeniusin this marriage."
So, he heard the sarcasm when I called him genius. And somehow, I got away with that too.
"You let me call you an asshole." I need to know why.
"I am aware." And he doesn't sound happy about it.
"You didn't yell at me or go all Don of New York on me. Why?"
"Because you are you."
He didn't say because I was his wife. He said it was because I was myself. Catalina De Luca. What does that mean?
"In case you are wondering, I don't want you to do it again."
"I wasn't." That's a given.
"I've cut men's fingers off for less."
I shiver at the visual although taking a finger is a don's prerogative when punishing his men. "I'm not one of your enemies, or your made men."
"Neither are my sister or mother, but they would never disrespect me that way." His tone implies he would deal with it if they did.
I don't know how, but I'm sure it's not the same way my father would have.
I can't say I didn't mean to disrespect him. I did. He hurt me and my heart is still smarting. "Not even if you were being a hurtful, untrusting jerk?"
Oops. There I go again.
Am I still pushing him, still trying to see if he'll retaliate with his fists?I am. And I don't like what that says about where my mind is at.
"They would not consider me doing my job as don in those terms," he says through gritted teeth.
So not so calm about the name calling after all. "Lucky them." I just keep pushing. I need to shut up.
