His dark gaze met mine. “Si.For four hours. There was a lot to discuss.”
“Yeah, right. Do you take me for a fool?” I narrowed my eyes, channelling my jealous, bunny-boiler character. “You were with another woman, weren’t you? Who is she? Or is there more than one? I bet you have a bunch on speed dial youcan hit up when your wife refuses to give you a blowjob. Don’t lie to me. I can smell her on you.” He smelled unusually sweet, and I wondered if he’d found my cocktail blend in his crystal decanter.
His expression darkened, the silence stretching between us. It wasn’t what I’d expected. I thought he’d laugh, tell me I was acting bat-shit crazy (because I was), or brush me off. Maybe he really was with another woman and was about to admit it. A man like him, in his position and with his looks and charisma, must have to ward off women’s advances every minute of the day. Just because he’d married me to blackmail my father didn’t mean he’d stop indulging in meaningless sex. I hated the stab of unexpected, real jealousy at the thought and pushed it away. If he were unfaithful, that would be the quickest way to a legal divorce.
“I'll take your silence as a sign of guilt,” I accused, holding his fiery gaze as if it didn’t intimidate me at all. Inside, I was squirming.
He pulled his real phone (not one of his burners) from his pocket, let his face recognition unlock it, and tossed it onto my lap. My face twisted in confusion.
“Open my contacts.”
I didn’t feel comfortable going through people’s phones. Unlike someone, I believed in boundaries and privacy.
You are not trying to be you. Be psycho.
I glared at him, picked up his phone, and opened his contacts list. I started scrolling, not really sure what I was supposed to be looking for.
“There isn’t a single woman in my contacts except for family members.”
He was right. There wasn’t.
“I blocked and deleted every woman’s phone number before I married you.”
I glanced up from the screen.
“You can check my messages as well if you like. Check whatever you like.”
I threw the phone back towards him and folded my arms again, this time to create a protective barrier between us. “That doesn’t mean anything. Messages can be deleted. You proved that when you kept deleting our conversations frommyphone.”
He exhaled through his nose, staring me down. “I’d never cheat on you, Aria.”
I snorted again, this time on purpose, and looked away.
“That’s what they all say until they see a sexy red thong they can’t resist.” Fuck, I was supposed to be acting. But that hurt was real, and I wasn’t supposed to show him.
His fingers gripped my chin, and he turned my face back to his. His eyes searched mine, and I fell into the dark depths of brown, almost reddish flames dancing in his gaze.
“I don’t know what type of men you’ve dated in the past, nor do I want to know, because I am trying to be less… murderous for you. But know this. I am not like them. A man who cheats is weak. I am anything but that. There are only three things you need to remember about me. I don’t share. I don’t cheat. And I don’t lie. So when I say I will never cheat on you, you better fucking believe it.”
He let go of my chin and sat back, holding up his left hand and pointing at his wedding band.
“There’s only one woman I’ll ever touch, and I wear her wedding ring to prove it.”
I gawked at him as he climbed off the bed and casually headed for the door, as if he hadn’t just left me breathless. How did he manage to make me feel like the only woman in the world and mend a tiny thread of faith in men’s ability to say words and mean them?
“Dinner’s nearly ready. Let’s eat.”
I pressed my lips together as I watched him walk away. I needed a minute. I wasn’t supposed to be falling for this. If he really meant every word, I was dealing with a seriously dangerous man. Not because of what he did for a living, but because of the potential threat he could have on my heart if I let him.
Men like Santino Buccini were well aware of how charming they were. I’d been lied to before, made to believe I was the only woman they were interested in when, in reality, they were sexting three others while I snored beside them.
But there was a voice daring me to believe him. It wasn’t just what he said, but the way he said it, with such calm certainty, as if he were telling me the sky was blue rather than that I was the only woman he’d ever touch again.
I grabbed my phone to text Allegra.
He's wearing grey joggers.
Oh shit.
