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I look at Roxanne, her cheerful smile as she takes in the glittering and glamorous surroundings. Her strength of character and commitment is astounding. She is by far the strongest woman I’ve ever met. If I were a good man, I’d protect her from Popov and set her free. She deserves a normal life with a safe, dependable man. Even as I think it, I know that over my dead body does anyone take Roxanne from me.
She finishes her champagne and swaps it with a passing waiter.
“Do you want to meet with De Luca when I speak with him?”
She ponders my question, sipping on her champagne. “I’m torn. I want to be there, but I’m not sure how I would be received, being an outsider. I don’t want to weaken your position because of my curiosity.”
As usual, I’m impressed with her observation. “You’re not wrong; the Italians are also a bit old-fashioned on the women in the business concept. Want me to meet with him now, and bring you in as you get more familiar with, and known by, the other families?” I pause for a minute. “That’s if you want to be involved. You’d said so before, but if you changed your mind it would make perfect sense. I’d still keep you up to date and involved on our end of it all.”
“No. I’m all in. This is my baby and I’m going to see it through.” Her eyes flash more green than hazel, a sure sign that she’s fired up.
I grab her around the waist and pull her to me. I whisper to her, “You’re sexy as hell when you’re bloodthirsty, baby.” I let her feel the hard press of my cock.
She smiles. “You’re going to soak my panties before we even get home. And there isn’t much to them.”
Fuck me.
“Fuck this party, I’m taking you home.” I mean it, but she plants her heels and laughs.
“Gangster, you have business here. Handshakes, politics, PR, the works.” Her smirk is mischievous.
“Fine,” I growl, “but I’m ripping those panties off you the second you get in the car.”
“Sold.”
We make a few more leisurely laps around the ball. Roxanne is a natural. She strikes up conversation with the wives. Her jokes are polite and well timed. She’s a force of nature. A passing waiter collects her empty glass and I pull her onto the dance floor.
“You’re magnificent, baby. I don’t know how I made it through these without you before.”
“Thank you.”
I give her a gentle twirl. I watch her lush hips sway to the music. She’s in front of me, back to my front, when I lean down to whisper to her.
“It occurs to me, little one,” I smile when she sticks her tongue out at the nickname, “you never asked for birth control pills.” I think of the times I’ve come deep within her over the last several days. Irrationally, my hand moves to splay over her flat abdomen, and a sudden desire to see her growing with my child inside her overwhelms me. I’m shocked by the idea, and my reaction to it. I kiss her neck and spin her again to face me. I want to look into her eyes when she speaks.
She’s blushing a deep red. “Oh, umm, yeah. I have the implant in my arm.”
I’m oddly disappointed.
“Do you want children, Sean?” She’s searching my eyes when she asks.
I answer honestly. “I hadn’t considered it until recently. Until you.”
She blinks, surprised. If it’s at what I said or my blunt honesty, I’m not sure which. “Hypothetically, if I was on the pills, would you have gotten them for me?”
“Knowing what I know now? How we would feel, this…” I gesture back and forth between us when I can’t find the right words.
She nods.
“In this hypothetical, would you need them to treat any other condition or improve your cycle?”
She shakes her head.
“Then no.”
She gasps. Her mouth opens and closes. I can feel her heart speed up.
“So then you would wear—”
