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"Yes, Dad." She rolls her eyes.
"You sassing me,Stellina?"
"Like I would ever dare to do that."
"Oh, you would, all right. Other than my brothers, you’re the first person I’ve met who’s not afraid of me. It’s a fucking turn-on when you stand up to me, you know that?"
She swallows. "I wish you wouldn’t say things like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you mean it," she whispers.
"But I do, Via. I have, from the first moment I met you."
"Don’t." She jumps to her feet, and I lower my arms to my sides. She darts out from the front of her chair and begins to pace.
"Why do you always have to make everything so difficult? Why do you always have to say the right things?"
"Because I’m right?"
She spins around to face me and plants her palms on her hips. "See, that right there? That, I can take. I prefer you to be smug, and egoistical, and full-of-yourself, and difficult to like—"
"Because that would make it easy for you to rationalize turning me down?"
"I didn’t turn you down. I married you," she points out.
"In name only."
"That was our deal," she huffs.
"That was your understanding of the deal." I close the distance between us, and she doesn’t move back.
She tips up her chin. "You got what you wanted. Why are you still bothering me? Why did you have to come with me? Why couldn’t you have let me leave and pursue my career on my own?"
"Because I take my vows seriously." I lower my face to hers, until our noses bump. "I swore to protect you, to cherish you, to take care of you, and nothing will stop me from delivering on my promises."
Her pupils dilate. "Are you always this conscientious?"
"Only when it comes to you." I twine my fingers with hers so our rings brush against each other’s. "Are you done with work today?"
She holds my gaze, a slightly dazed look in her eyes. Good. As long as I can keep her off-kilter, I might be able to convince her to unbend enough to give me a chance. A-n-d, I can’t believe I’m here, coaxing my wife to take a chance on me, when I’ve never in my life had to coax a woman for anything. Normally, I’m the one saying no. I admit, I’m enjoying this challenge of trying to get her to do my bidding.
"Via?" I ask again.
She blinks. "Eh, what did you say?"
I suppress my chuckle. "I asked if you were done with your work for the day?"
"I am."
"Good, I have a surprise for you."
Forty-five minutes later, we walk into a restaurant on the top floor ofThe Heron. The hostess leads us to a table at the far end. Halfway across the floor, Via tugs her hand from my grasp. She walks over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and glances out. "This view is incredible."
"This is the highest restaurant in London," I confirm.
"It’s mind-blowing," she murmurs.
