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He blinks at me, his eyes so dark I can barely see his pupils. Then his damn phone rings, snatching his attention. “I really need to take this,” he says.
“Of course you do,” I say with a heavy sigh before I stand up and walk out of the room. There are tears in my eyes, but I blink them away because I refuse to waste any more over that asshole.
* * *
Stepping out of the shower,I dry myself off with a soft towel before slipping into my new cotton pajamas. Joey helped me pick some out online and they were delivered this morning. I didn’t particularly feel comfortable spending Dante’s money, but what choice do I have if he insists on keeping me here and I have nothing to wear.
When I walk into the bedroom, I blink in surprise to see him standing beside the bed, shirtless and with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his suit pants.
“What are you doing up here so early?” I ask as I cross the room, averting my eyes from his toned body, because it makes me drop at least one hundred IQ points.
“You wanted to talk, right?”
“I think I said everything I had to say earlier,” I say coolly as I waft past him, but he grabs my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.
“So, maybe you can just listen?” he says in that low, growling tone that drips with both menace and sex appeal. I shiver at his touch as he yanks me close to him. “If you’re waiting for me to apologize for bringing you here that day, Kat, it is never going to happen.”
I should have known a man like him wouldn’t know the meaning of the word sorry.
“Because I don’t regret any of it. And I would do it again a million times over.”
“You would?” I whisper as heat blooms beneath my skin.
His brow furrows as his eyes burn into mine. “Yes. So I am never going to be sorry for taking you.”
“Well, at least I know that now,” I say, trying to sound calm and collected while my pulse is racing.
“But I am sorry for the way I’ve treated you, kitten,” he whispers as he brushes a damp strand of hair back from my face. “You deserve better. I will be better.”
I blink at him, floored by his admission and his honesty, but he’s not getting off that easily. “I do,” I agree. “So much better.”
“I want to do this with you, Kat. I want you here with me and not because my ego would be dented if you left, but because my life is better with you in it.”
“What about my future though, Dante? What does it look like for me? Forever your mistress, unable to leave this house?”
The fingers circling my wrist flex as he tightens his grip. “Not my mistress. You’ll be my wife.”
“Your wife?” I laugh out loud because this has to be some kind of practical joke.
“My wife,” he repeats, enunciating each word clearly.
“I’m not marrying you.”
“And I’m not having my child born anything but a Moretti in every sense of the word.”
“Jesus Christ.” I try to wrench my arm from his grip, but he refuses to let me. “You’re aware we’re no longer in living in the ’50’s, right?” I snap.
“This is non-negotiable, Kat. My family is built on tradition and legacy and I will not allow there to be any doubts about the first child born of the next generation. You will be my wife by the time our baby is born.”
I stare at him, open-mouthed. He’s serious. Dante Moretti intends to make me his wife — with or without my consent.
“You asked me for some answers about your future, so why do you still find a way to resist me?”
“Because this is being done to me, like I have no choice in the matter, Dante. I have no control at all.”
He sighs and releases my wrist, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. “You’re carrying my child, Kat. When you got pregnant, it changed our lives and there is no escaping that now.”
I know he has a point. Dante isn’t a guy you can have a kid with and expect to have a happy, separate co-parenting deal going on. Family is everything to him and there is no way he would allow his child to live anywhere but in the protection of his mansion. And I know that is the safest place for the son or daughter of the head of the Cosa Nostra, but it still stings that my fate is sealed.
