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But what upsets me more than anything is the way she now looks at me.
Like she doesn’t know me.
It hurts.
She is the one person who knows me more than anyone now my mom has passed.
Will being a mafia princess and marrying one of the most powerful men in America—unexpectedly—make me so unrelatable now?
Fine, it sounds ridiculous to me as well.
Six months and then this will be over. I just need everything to go to plan. Engagement. Marriage. Inheritance.
Then divorce and I’ll have my freedom.
I slide the cards into my purse. “How much is on them?”
“Don’t worry, you won’t run out of money,” Connor responds. The corner of his lips twitch. “Give it your best shot, though.”
“I could buy an island,” I challenge him. Playful Connor is sexy as hell, so I am totally encouraging it. I mean, if I have to spend months with the man, it is worth having fun with him.
Maybe we can be friends as well as lovers.
“Not sure they take American Express at the Buy an Island Shop. But you can try.” Connor grabs his jacket back off the hanger and slips it on, his eyes sliding down my body.
I’m wearing a Gucci sleeveless black jumpsuit clinched with a silver belt, my long dark hair straightened and lips a glossy rose pink. My lashes are dark and long after three coats, and I chose my stupidly expensive Chanel pumps for the occasion.
Classy and stylish.
The media will have to dig deep to find anything at fault with this outfit.
“What?” I ask, jutting out a hip when Connor keeps staring.
He closes the distance and pulls me to him. “I never told you how ravishing you look today, my beautiful fiancé.”
Huh?
What is he up to?
Those dark chocolate eyes of his lock me in place, and suddenly, I’m wishing this gorgeous man truly wanted me.
Stupid.
But the way he holds me, touches me, watches me...He’s intoxicating. I challenge any woman to ignore this man’s brazen sexual masculinity.
“Well, then, maybe you should kiss me,” I say.
We stare at each other for a long moment, and when I think he’s going to finally drop his mouth to mine, he steps away.
“Come,” Connor says, leading me out of the room.
Damn this man.
CONNOR
––––––––
“HOW LONG HAVE you beendating Ms. Mancini?” the reporter from theNew York Timesasks.
