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Doesn’t seem like “nothing” to me. His body is rigid and there is a strain in the tone of his voice. I stroke the furrows in his brow, trailing the lines that aren’t usually there.
“You look like you’re in pain, Drago. What’s going on?”
“I’m fine, Sienna.”
A few hundred guests belt out the chorus of the song, each refrain louder than the last. Drago lets out a nasty Serbian curse and pinches the bridge of his nose, tightly squeezing his eyes shut.
“Drago?”
He curses again and lowers his hand, but the strain is plainly visible on his face.
“Is it the music?”
“Yes,” he says through grinding teeth. “It’s too fucking loud.”
His hair is so soft as I rake my fingers through the dark strands. I haven’t even realized that I’ve been stroking it. “Let’s go home.”
My husband tilts his head to the side and looks at me as if he’s trying to parse me out. “I thought you were having fun.”
“I was. Not anymore.”
“Why not?”
Because you’re obviously in pain and I can’t have fun knowing you are hurting. But I don’t say it, of course.
“I promised Asya I’d phone her at five tonight,” I lie. “We should get going right away so I don’t miss making that call on time.”
The corner of Drago’s lips lifts just a smidge. “But you have your phone with you. You can make a call from here. Or while we’re driving back.”
“Um . . . I prefer making my phone calls in private.” I shoot him a beaming smile. “It’s about girls’ stuff.”
“Mm-hmm. Or maybe it’s not your sister you need to call?”
My hand stills midstroke. Had someone overheard me calling the don yesterday and told Drago? I always make sure I call Ajello only when I’m alone in the bedroom or strolling through the grounds where no one is around. No, it’s not possible. “Of course not. Why would I lie?”
Drago keeps his eyes glued to mine, a dangerous glint sparks within them, as if he can see right through my lies and defenses, down to my soul. My heartbeat picks up while I stare into those two pools of green with brown flecks.Run!Screams the part of me that’s terrified of baring my secrets to anyone.Run, now, while you still can.
He takes hold of my chin, tilting it up as he slowly caresses my lower lip with his thumb. “Tako lepa usta, ? toliko laži.”
I blink and try to concentrate on what he said amid all the distractions, but there is too much noise and activity around us so I only understand half of the sentence. I think he said he likes my mouth. My lips part, anticipating a kiss, but Drago releases my chin and leans away.
“Let’s head home.”
Swallowing the disappointment, I smile and get down off his lap. “Sure.”
Chapter 12
I wave at the waiter to bring me another cup of coffee and resume watching Sienna and her brother.
Saying that Arturo DeVille isn’t happy with his sister being married to me is an understatement. He’s also livid as hell because I wouldn’t let Sienna meet with him without my supervision. I told Arturo it's a security precaution, but the truth is, I’m afraid he might tell her things I don’t want my wife to know.
There are a lot of skeletons in my closet, and Arturo is aware of a few. These past weeks, I’ve gotten to know my wife rather well. Sienna might have been born into a Mafia Family, but she has no love for violence or bloodshed. She’d fool you with her bravado, but my wife is much more sensitive than she lets people around her believe. She’s like a lone dandelion flower in a sea of thorned roses. It would take only a single gust of wind to hurt her delicate seeds. So, I'm not risking Arturio telling Sienna anything that would make her fearful of me.
They are sitting on the other side of the restaurant. Arturo’s meal is getting cold on his plate. He hasn’t even touched it because he’s too busy listing all of my deplorable qualities to my wife.
“—scheming son of a bitch who won’t even let me see you without him present!”
I don’t see Sienna’s reply since she’s sitting with her back to me, but Arturo’s part of the conversation is enough for me to get the gist.
