Page 51 of The Viper's Wife

Nico strokes his fingers into my hair. Static electricity tingles down my spine.

“You don’t owe me a thing.”

My body is stiff as a board, but he’s perfectly at ease under me. How is he so relaxed all the time? He has family expectations too, a role to play—presumably—but he acts like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Like he has all the time in the world to play keep-away with me in a café.

“I don’t want to be in your debt,” I say.

“It’s too late, I already paid.” His eyes roam over my face, lingering on my mouth and throat. “But you can pay me back in a different way.”

I can’t help the greedy pulse between my legs. His tone hints at something wicked. I wish he’d just take me to another bathroom and fuck me—fill my thoughts and senses with him instead of the tough choices I always have to face alone.

“Just sit. Talk.” He releases me, and I settle back into my seat.

“Like a date?” I ask suspiciously.

Nico laughs. I feel silly for a moment, like a little girl who just asked if fairies were real. We don’t date. We fuck, and we fight.

“Exactly like a date.”

Warmth flutters in my chest. I swirl the remains of my coffee in my cup.

“That’s not a good idea.”

Underneath the table, Nico hooks his foot under mine.He leans back in his chair, but he keeps his hand on the back of mine. “Why, you scared?”

I scoff. “We need to be spending as little time together as possible. We aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, we’re… business partners.”

“Yeah, sure. Business partners who fuck each other and are also engaged.”

A couple old ladies from a nearby table give us dirty looks.

“Nico, can you keep your voice down?”

“Sure I can.” He lets the implication—but will I?—hang in the open air.

“We should be discussing which women have caught your eye. Did you like Giorgia?” I take a sip of coffee to swallow down the acid in my throat. “I still think there’s a chance between you two. You’d probably get along really well.”

Nico blows out a stream of air. “Giorgia just wants my last name, and maybe my sister’s affections?—”

“What? She’s not?—”

“She couldn’t stop talking about Alessia. I’m telling you. She’s not interested.”

I scrub my face. That couldn’t possibly be true, though a few rumors I’ve heard about her suddenly make a lot more sense.

“Have you ever been to New York?” he asks suddenly.

I used to make collages of all the places I thought I’d visit when I grew up. It always sounded so freeing to be able to go wherever my heart took me. But the reality is, travel is expensive. I could travel, or I could have a place of my own, so I’ve saved up for the second option, and now I make collages of other things. Simple pleasures.

I tried last night. I sat down at my desk with my artsupplies in front of me. I cut out a few haphazard shapes, but my heart wasn’t in it. I gave up and watchedFriday the 13thfor the hundredth time.

“No.”

“Would you want to?” His foot wriggles under mine. I try to jerk my leg away, but he hooks me again. “My sister wants to meet you. We could fly over on the weekend and be back in time for your little job.”

“It’s not alittlejob. I’ve been working to get this role for years now. I love what I do.”

“Oh, yeah? You justloveprocessing shit samples?”