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“Why are you hanging out down here? Playing prison guard?” she fumed.
I took her in, in all her glory. I bet many outside her family had no idea of her beauty. Mafia princesses didn’t make the society pages, and the underworld hardly hosted mixers. I was blindsided by the perfect, furious beauty of my bride.
“Practicing for after the wedding,” I said coolly, giving my brain a quick kick back into motion. Christ, I had to keep my wits about this one.
She killed her last fiancé.The lone voice in my head reminded me as the blood in my body rushed southward.
Suna folded slender golden arms across her chest and surveyed me with as much intensity as I had her. A gentle blush rose in her cheeks, and she scowled as if the force of her disapproval could scare it into submission.
I wondered if she liked what she saw? I towered over her, but then, who wouldn’t at her diminutive height? Her sky-high heels seemed testament to her dislike of the height gap, but she wasn’t confident in them. She didn’t usually wear them. I longed to know what she wore when she was comfortable at home. Her outfit tonight was battle armor.
She was young. I’d known that, of course, twenty-three to my thirty-five. But I wasn’t prepared for the world-weary look in her eyes, which were a decade older than the rest of her face. It was an interesting juxtaposition.
“I hear you’re a hard woman to keep hold of,” I observed.
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” Suna said, stepping closer to me. Her face was level with my sternum. She had to tilt her head back to keep those dark eyes fixed on mine. “I’m impossible to keep hold of, not hard.” Her lip curved sweetly.
I heard a bark of laughter leave my chest, surprising me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed with a woman. In the admittedly misogynistic world of the cosa nostra, women were wives, mothers, or side-pieces. They were seldom allowed into the inner circles of the men they lived with. It was the sad truth. The only exception I’d seen was Elena, Rafe’s new bride, but he wasn’t a standard made man himself.
I enjoyed this tussle with Suna.“That sounds like a challenge.” I raised a lazy eyebrow and surveyed her.
“Rumor would suggest it sounded like a death sentence,” she quipped.
I rested a hand on the wall behind her, realizing how easily I could crowd her back and taste the golden skin that looked so enticing. No one would stop me. I was going to be her husband in a mere week. For the first time, the thought of my impending nuptials filled me with something other than dread.
Suna’s inky black hair was poker straight and reached her waist. A vivid, unbidden image of the long, black rope wrapped around my hand flashed through my head. Her Korean features were undeniable and stunning, from her dark eyes to her full lips and heart-shaped face. The intelligence in her gaze held my interest more than anything. She had an appeal I’d never found in any woman before. Could it be because she didn’t want me? Because she’d risk her neck jumping out a window to escape me? My gut wasn’t convinced that was the only draw.
“I don’t scare easily, Suna. You’ll realize that once we get to know each other better,” I told her.
Her breath rose and fell rapidly, and her pupils were blown, eating up the dark brown of her iris.
“I plan on making it to the altar, if you’re wondering,” I finished.
Her lip quirked, but the casual ease with which she faced the reminder of her violent tendencies was at odds with the look in her eyes. Something dark moved in those brown, mysterious depths.“Why are you out here? I’m not the only one wishing they could back out of this, am I?”
At that moment, I knew she saw the truth on my face. Her eyebrow raised as if she’d figured out something damaging to me. Little did she realize that the idea of marrying her had suddenly become much more appealing. It wasn’t an opportunity I would’ve had without the deal with her father. Romeo and Juliet were enough of a lesson for most families of New York, and inter-family relationships weren’t encouraged unless they were arranged.
“I was getting some air,” I said vaguely.
She smirked and glanced at the cigarette discarded at my foot. She brought a hand to my suit pocket and slipped it inside, feeling for my smokes. Either that or she was going to shoot me with my gun. She felt around and tried the other while I watched her with amusement.
“Try the pants,” I suggested.
Her lips pursed, and a beat pounded in her neck.“You think I won’t?”
“I have no idea, but I’m hoping you will,” I shared as her hand intrepidly made its way to my pant pocket. The material was tighter than usual, thanks to the hard-on I was sporting. Suna kept her eyes on me as her fingers slipped inside the bespoke slacks and closed on the pack of cigarettes. I closed my hand firmly around her wrist before she could pull them free.
“What? Maybe I need some fresh air, too?” she said.
This girl was funny. I hadn’t expected that, and I liked it. I liked it a lot.“Too bad. No wife of mine is going to smoke,” I said, holding her hand in place. Two fucking inches over, and her small palm would cup me. I’d probably come in my boxers like a schoolboy. Something about this woman was having a powerful effect on my body. I wanted to school her smart mouth and tame her fiery gaze. I wanted to pick her up, crush her to the wall, and find out what her tongue felt like against mine.
Suna laughed, half annoyed, half disbelieving.“You think you can dictate how I live?”
“Once I’m your husband, yes,” I told her calmly.
“My father won’t like me being on a tight leash,” she warned, but her tone wasn’t convincing.
She was bitter, I realized. Tired of being controlled by the men in her life. Too bad for her that marrying me came with its own rules. Living as a Luciano was dangerous, and I wouldn’t have my wife used as a bargaining chip in power struggles against me.
