“You weren’t that drunk.”
We stared at each other, and I knew there was no winning if I went down this road. We both knew how much I’d enjoyed myself. There was no faking that kind of enthusiasm.
I tugged my hair out of the knotted mess on top of my head for something to do, feeling his gaze on me the entire time. “Tell me the rules of my imprisonment, then. I know a man like you will have many for his new wife.”
He strolled back over. “Do you want rules to follow,Ribelle? Or rules to break?”
“After last night, I’ve learned my lesson.”
He raised an eyebrow, leaning his huge, veiny hands on the back of a dining chair. I darted my gaze away as the reminder of what they did last night flashed in my mind.
“I have only one rule for you. You always tell me where you are and who you are with. If you plan to leave this apartment, it’s with me or at least one of my men every time. You never go anywhere alone.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up his hand. “Actually…two rules. You attempt to get to know me.”
I wasn’t expecting that, and I hated how my heart fluttered a little at the thought of getting to know this man better. That felt… detrimental to my mission. I’d just have to keep my questions light and superficial. He’d want out of this marriage soon enough when he realised what a headache he’d married.
“Fine,” I agreed. “But I want two rules as well.”
“I’m a fair man.”
My mind worked frantically to think of things men would hate. “When you’re not with me, I also want to know where you are and what you’re doing.”
He chuckled, leaning his arms on the table. “Okay. And the second?”
“We’re married, and you’re super rich. So I get to buy pretty things, right?”
He smiled, but I could tell from the slight twitch of his left eye that it surprised him. He didn’t have me down as a gold digger because I wasn’t. I worked hard to earn my money, and I couldn’t give a crap about material things, but I wasn’t trying to be me. Quite the opposite.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black credit card, sliding it towards me. “Already had this for you. What’s mine is yours, wife.”
“Grazie,” I said with a wide smile, twisting the card between my fingers. Agenda for today: an online shopping spree for the girliest shit he’s ever seen.
“So, ask me anything.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Where did you sleep last night?”
“I didn’t,” he answered, which made me frown. “I had work to do. Being in Verona for the past four days and focusing on ruining your sham of a wedding and planning our real one meant I’d neglected a lot of my responsibilities. Why?” One side of his lip curled into a teasing smirk. “Did you miss me?”
I was about to roll my eyes, but then I remembered that’s how the real Aria would react.
“Actually, you really hurt my feelings. It was our wedding night, and you didn’t even cuddle me,” I whined and pouted.
He caught himself before he laughed. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I like being cuddled to sleep, especially after an orgasm.”
A flicker of possessiveness crossed his features as he realised we’d never done that, so I'd just suggested that’s what I likedwith past lovers.
“Noted,” he husked.
“Why do I need a bodyguard? You were the person my father was trying to protect me from, and my last one had a rather grim track record. I think I’d be better off fending for myself.”
He frowned. “These questions aren’t about me.”
“But they are questions. And believe it or not,SignorBuccini, the world does not revolve around you.”
“Really? It doesn’t?” he teased. “My name carries a lot of weight in Italy. Mostly, it means no one will dare to fuck with you. But enemies lurk everywhere. You’re important to me, so I need to keep you safe. Think of the bodyguard as an extension of me when I can’t be there to do it myself.”
