"Bravo."
"Beautiful."
"Congratulations."
"Well done!"
Confetti rains down on us. I blink, "Oh."
"Surprised?" he whispers.
"I wasn’t expecting…" What? Nothing. Anything. I try to find the words to explain, but my brain cells have all turned to mush. "I… I don’t know what to say."
"Enjoy it." He brings me in closer, and I can't stop myself from melting into his side. "Today is your day, Gigi."
He flattens his big hand over my hip. His grasp is warm, possessive. When he's like this... I can almost believe he means the tender words he's just said.
"You...you confuse me, Saint." I turn to him. "One moment, you're the most heartless bastard I’ve ever met... The next..." I shake my head.
"The next?" He prompts.
"You seem human, almost vulnerable." I search his features. "I think you hate yourself for not being able to conceal your feelings from me."
"Do you?" His gaze falters... Those blue eyes lighten, and for an instant I am sure I can see right through that façade he loves to wear like armor.
"You don't fool me," I declare.
"Good." His lips curve in a smile that's genuine, and predatory, and so... Saint. Filled with secrets, as if he senses what I am thinking, as if he knows what I want before I do... As if he can anticipate my every move before I make it.
"That will make the upcoming days more of a challenge."
"What?" I squint up at him.
"Enjoy it, dear wife," his features harden, "for things are about to change."
I stiffen, peer into his face.
He’s wearing the same smile... But already, that hint of sensitivity that I'd spotted is gone. He jerks his chin, nods toward his friends, his expression still open, his handsome profile every bit as gorgeous, as genuine as he’d seemed a moment ago. But his eyes... Those blue eyes are dark...almost black. Was everything he'd done today an act? Had he been leading me on? And I'd wanted to believe him. For a few minutes there, I had dared to hope.
His lips curl.
He’d taken me to the edge, pretended to care, then he’d pushed me over and watched me fall.
"You bastard," I try to pull away.
His hand around my waist is solid though. He keeps me pinned to his side. He lowers his chin, nuzzles my temple, "Keep that smile, Gigi. You don’t want them to know that something is wrong, do you?"
I swallow.
"Do you, pet?"
"No… No."
"Good." He kisses my temple, his breath hot like a lover’s touch, "Store up the happy memories, for soon you’ll wish that you never set eyes on me."
"Newsflash, asshole," I keep the smile plastered to my face, "I already wish I’d never met you, that I had never agreed to come to England, that I’d never posed as Adam’s wife, that—" I stop to take a breath.
He grins down at me, "Go on, don’t let me stop you."
I grit my teeth, hold his burning gaze. How had I thought there was passion in his eyes? It’s a need to get even. To get revenge. That’s all this is about. Retribution. I am a pawn caught between two opposing forces, and by the time this charade is over, there may be nothing left of me—nothing but this burning need to avenge myself. With Saint. With the Mafia. With Antonio… With everyone who has taken advantage of me. I’ve had enough of being backed into a corner, of being underestimated. I am going to make sure this brute realizes it too, by the time I am done.
I direct my next words at him with deadly intent, "I wish that I had asked someone else to be my Dom."
His gaze sharpens and his fingers dig into the curve of my hip.
"You dare say that to my face?" His nostrils flare. Color sears his cheeks, and damn it, but my sex clenches instantly. Goosebumps flare on my skin and a shiver runs down my back. This...this is what I want. Saint—angry, blinded with jealousy, coming for me, taking me with no quarter. This language I understand. This passion is what we have in common and I am going to make the most of it.
"Why, worried you won’t measure up to Adam Rhodes?’
A vein pops at his temple. "You know how to push me over the edge, don’t you?"
"Maybe I should have asked one of your friends." I glance past him to where Damian is watching us. He raises the bouquet of flowers. I smile, shake my head, "Yeah, who better than a rock star god to take my virgin ass?"
"You cunt," he bares his teeth, and a little thrill shudders down my spine. This is it. I’ve done it now. I’ve broken through his control. What is he going to do next?
Saint doesn’t disappoint.
He bends his knees, peers into my eyes, "I think it’s time we consummated this marriage, don’t you?"
27
Saint
"Turn around and hug the post."
She tips up her head and glares at me.
I'd rushed her up here to my suite in the penthouse of the hotel, without bothering to say goodbye to my friends. If they thought I was in a hurry to get her alone in a room, well, that’s too bad. I don't give a fuck what kind of impression I left behind. All that matters is getting her to obey. To bend her to my will, to lean her over the bed and teach her a lesson. But first— "Do it," I growl from my position near the doorway.
She hesitates, twists her fingers. The emerald of her ring catches the light from above and sparkles. Fucking hell. I’d given her the ring that had belonged to my mother. The one she had given to me
