Quinn stalks away from me, leaving me gasping.
Gasping and shaken to my core.
I can count on the fingers of my left hand the times Iâve experienced true attraction in my life. None of them were anything like this.
My nipples are hard, my hands are shaking, and my damn clitoris is tingling.
To match all the fireworks going on inside my uterus. I never imagined Iâd one day actually feel my ovaries throb and pulse like they were hooked up to electrodes, but here we are.
I have to get off the carousel before I throw a leg over this pony and start grinding against the poor thing.
I slide off the horse, landing awkwardly on the metal platform with a thud. I have to take a moment to allow my quaking knees to settle down. Then I take a deep breath, put my shoulders back, and shakily retrace my steps to where I discarded my heels.
I grab them and jump off the merry-go-round.
Barefoot, I make my way to the entry gate to wait for it to stop.
I stand there with my dry mouth and my pounding heart and my utter confusion, which is only slightly less severe than my guilt.
I groan, covering my eyes with a hand, glowing with shame that what I really wanted was so much more than that.
I wanted his mouth on every inch of my skin.
And I know in my bones heâd know exactly what to do with that mouth of his, too. Heâd know exactly how to make me moan and beg, how to make me delirious with pleasure.
Heâd let his big, rough hands roam all over my body while he lavished my pussy with his tongue, then heâd flip me on my belly and pull my hair and growl filthy things into my ear as he fucked me.
Fucked me hard and deep, because that Irishman is nothing if not powerful.
If I wasnât already going to hell for all my other sins, Iâm definitely going for this.
The carousel eventually slows, then stops. Lili and Quinn get off along with everyone else. They make their way to me as I try to look anywhere but at Quinnâs face.
He walks Lili past without glancing at me once.
Thank God. I prefer his silences and scowls over the other side of his personality. The swaggering, smiling, flirtatious one.
The one that constantly makes me flush with anger.
Except now that my sad and lonely vagina started howling like a wolf when he touched me on the carousel, I have a terrible suspicion that it wasnât anger that made me flush before.
I think maybe my anger has been covering up something else.
Something unimaginable. Inexcusable.
Insane.
â
â
I whirl around at the sound of Liliâs call. Sheâs being dragged along by the hand by Quinn, looking back over her shoulder and waving frantically at me.
Shoving my heels back onto my feet, I lurch away from the gate and follow them. Quinn is moving so fast, itâs impossible to catch up, but I keep them within sight as they walk straight through the crowd, forcing people to skitter out of their path or risk crashing into them.
Weâre headed back to the parking lot. Gianniâs guards follow me, two behind and two ahead, spread out at a short distance. In their dark suits and mirrored sunglasses, they stand out from the casual summer crowd, but not as much as Quinn does. With his height and his golden-god good looks, heâs winning lustful stares from left and right.
And not only from the women.
By the time we reach the Escalade, Iâm sweating and out of breath.
Quinn opens the front passenger door for Lili and helps her in. He closes her door and reaches for the back passenger door handle just as I do.
Our hands touch.
A crackle of electricity snaps white hot over my fingertips.
Gasping, I snatch my hand away from his.
Heâs staring at me with hard eyes, a hard jaw, and an expression of pure fury.
Instead of angering or scaring me, that look sets every nerve ending in my body on fire.
My insides go liquid. My nipples harden as if he pinched them. My heart starts to pound, and I break out in a cold sweat. Iâm so turned on, Iâm breathless.
Clearly, I can never go near a carousel again.
He opens the door. Through gritted teeth, he commands, âGet in.â
It takes a great deal of effort to keep my voice steady when I speak. âI donât know why youâre acting so strange today, but Iâve already told you I donât take orders.â
Leaning close to me, his jaw still clenched, he stares into my eyes.
âGet your arse in this car. No questions. No sass. You donât speak again unless I give you permission to. Which I wonât. Understood?â
His voice is low and gruff. His body heat burns me. I can smell him, the warm, masculine scent of his skin, and count every fleck of gold in his gorgeous hazel eyes.
My mouth goes dry. I canât manage an answer, so I simply climb up into the car and sit.
He gazes at me for a beat, then his gaze drops to my mouth. He exhales, nostrils flaring.
Then he withdraws and slams the door so hard, the whole car is rocked by it.
â
â whispers Lili from the front seat, terrified.
âI donât know whatâs wrong, but if he does anything dangerous, Iâll handle it.â
Quinn leaps into the car, slams his door, and guns the engine. He sits there in blistering silence, breathing hard and staring straight out the windshield. He closes his eyes for a moment.
When he opens them again, he seems more in control of himself. He drives out of the carnivalâs parking lot and back onto the highway at a reasonable speed. But his hands are gripped so hard around the steering wheel, his knuckles are white.
By the time we arrive back at the house, Iâm wrung out from all the tension in the car.
Quinn pulls to a stop in the driveway, kills the engine, and hops out. Ignoring me, he helps Lili out, holding her hand. Then he leads her into the courtyard without glancing back.
I slouch down in the seat, cover my face with my hands, and exhale.
Iâm still in the same position when Quinn returns ten minutes later.
He opens the door and stands there silently until I drop my hands and look at him.
âWhat?â
âWhat are you doing?â
âMaybe Iâm meditating.â
âAre you?â
âNo. Go away.â
He shifts his weight from foot to foot. He still seems agitated, but not as furious as before. âI have something to say.â
I lift my brows, waiting.
He clears his throat and glances at the boxwood hedge around the driveway. He tugs on the knot in his tie, then drags a hand roughly through his hair. A muscle flexes in his jaw. âI owe you an apology.â
âAre you talking to that shrub or to me?â
His gaze slices back to meet mine. âIâm talking to you, smartarse.â
âAnd Iâm allowed to speak to you now? Because I distinctly remember something about getting permission. I wouldnât want to get in trouble or anything.â
His lids drift lower. His eyes grow hot. He says gruffly, âAye, viper, you have my permission.â
That sounded so sexual, I have to swallow before speaking again.
âWhat exactly are you apologizing for?â
âThe same thing I just apologized to Lili for. Losing my temper.â
I say tartly, âYes, I remember asking you about that the day we met. Do you remember what you told me?â
âThat I wasnât your dead husband.â
We stare at each other. I could fall into those gorgeous hazel eyes and drown.
This is a fucking disaster.
My voice low, I say, âNo one could be as bad as him. And I can handle your little tantrums, but I wonât allow you to frighten Lili.â
âIt wasnât a tantrum,â he snaps, insulted.
Ignoring that, I continue. âAnd if you frightening her by acting rude, inconsistent, and aggressive, there will be consequences for you.â
He laughs abruptly. âAre you threatening me, viper?â
âYes.â
His laughter dies. He huffs in disbelief. Then he runs a hand over his beard, studying me intently.
The way heâs looking at me makes my entire pelvic floor clench like Iâm doing Kegels.
I should call my gynecologist first thing in the morning and schedule a hysterectomy. My reproductive organs have gone insane.
âNow itâs my turn to apologize to you.â
He cocks a brow. âChanged your mind on that threat so soon, have you?â
âNo. The threat stands. What I need to apologize for is not giving you a chance. I was a bitch to you from the minute you first walked in the door.â I pause, a smile hovering at the corners of my lips. âI shouldâve waited until I knew what a you are first.â
â
means handsome warrior, right?â
My smile grows wider. âRiiight.â
He grins. We stare at each other until our grins slowly fade and weâre somber.
He says gruffly, âYou have my word I wonât lose my temper around Lili again. Youâre another story, butâ¦Iâll try.â
I glance away, unable to look at his face one second longer. âThank you. May I ask why you did?â
His pause is short, but charged. âNo. Now come inside. Your brother promised me youâre going to make me dinner.â
âMy brother has the IQ of a tadpole.â
âYou will, viper,â he says softly. âYouâll feed me.â
I look back at him and find him gazing at me with burning intensity.
My heart skips a beat, but I keep my voice light. âAnd why would I do that, Mr. Quinn?â
âBecause itâs suppertime. Because youâre a good hostess.â His pause is almost too brief to notice, but the drop in his voice isnât. âAnd because Iâm ordering you to.â
My heartbeat goes from skipping like a silly schoolgirlâs to pounding with anger. I say coldly, âYou seem to be under the mistaken impression that when you tell me to jump, Iâm supposed to ask how high.â
He smirks. âYou are.â
âOh, look. The man who thinks heâs Main Character of Earth is back.â
âSoâs the woman who could freeze off my balls with one look.â
âTiny things freeze so easily, donât they? And thank you for disabusing me of the silly notion that you can sometimes act human. Now get out of my space. Youâre sucking up the oxygen with all that mouth breathing you do.â
I grab the door handle and try to pull the door closed, but he blocks it, stepping closer.
âIâm not done with you yet,â he snaps.
âThen let me borrow your gun. Iâll only need one bullet.â
âYou want to shoot me now?â
âThe bulletâs for me.â
When he growls, I canât help but send him the kind of smug, shit-eating smile heâs always sending me. âCareful. Youâre dangerously close to breaking your promise about your temper already.â
âThatâs because you could turn Father Christmas into the Grinch, woman.â
âWhat did I tell you about using the word âwomanâ as a pejorative?â
âSomething I couldnât hear over how loud your resting bitch face was screaming.â
My smile dies. Breathing hard, we glare at each other in blistering silence.
After a pause that feels endless, he says tightly, âYou donât have to like me, Reyna. But you do have to show me respect.â
âRight back at you, Quinn. And let me make it perfectly clear for you in case it already isnât: I like you. And I especially donât trust you.â
âAnd why is that?â
I answer without thinking, saying the first thing that comes to mind.
Itâs something I believe absolutely.
âBecause a man whoâd marry a woman for any reason other than love has the soul of a monster.â
He clenches his jaw. He stares at me, visibly restraining himself from speaking, until finally he says from between gritted teeth, âYou ever consider youâre not the only person on this fucking planet whoâs been hurt before?â
âOf course I know that.â
âAye? Because youâve got a stick shoved so far up your arse about how bad marriage is that itâs blinded you.â
Exasperated, I say, âBlinded me to ?â
After a long, blistering pause, he growls, âForget it. Itâd be a waste of my fucking breath.â
âNo. No way, Quinn. Iâm not letting you off the hook so easily. If you think Iâve got a stick up my ass about marriage, youâre right. You know why? Because a man gains everything when he takes a wife. A maid, a cook, a housekeeper, a social manager, and a toy he can fuck whenever it suits his convenience. But for a woman, a wedding is where her life ends.â
âIf you really believe that, youâve been hanging out with the wrong women.â
I scoff. âI was raised in the Cosa Nostra. All the women are in the same situation I was. That Lili is. Weâre auctioned off like assets to men who donât know how to love.â
âOr ones who just canât bear to be broken again.â
He lets that hang in the air between us, crackling like a live wire.
I stare at him, speechless. I simply canât find any words.
Not only because of the raw vulnerability of itâsomething I never would have believed him possible ofâbut also because I know in my heart of hearts that what he said is the truth.
truth.
Heâs not like Enzo, or any of the other made men I know who take young brides in exchange for power, money, or family gain without a second thought to the girlsâ feelings about it.
For Quinn, marriage isnât part of a bigger game. Itâs not about positioning his pawn on a chessboard like it is to my brother, or to have someone weaker to rule over with an iron fist like my husband did.
Itâs about escape.
He wants to escape marriage with the same longing I wanted to escape it.
For me, marriage vows were the beginning of a long, horrible tumble into the dark.
For Quinn, theyâre the end of it.
Heâs been hurt so badly, he doesnât think he can survive it again.
Everything I thought I knew about him was wrong.
Iâm about to make another apology when he snaps, âDo us both a favor and get someone else to be Liliâs chaperone from now on. Youâre too bitter a pill for me to swallow.â
He turns and walks away, shaking his head.
âWait. Quinn, wait!â
I hop out of the SUV and hurry after him. He ignores me, striding quickly through the courtyard toward the front door. He throws it open, barging inside. I catch up to him in the foyer and grab his arm.
âFor fuckâs sake, you stubborn Irishman, hold on! I want to tell you something!â
He whirls around, takes me by the shoulders, and pulls me against his chest. Staring down into my eyes with burning intensity, he growls, âListen to me, viper. Iâm marrying Lili, whether you like it or not. Iâll be good to her, whether you believe it or not. And Iâll thank you to keep your fucking opinions to yourself from now on.â
He pauses, nostrils flared and jaw clenched. He gazes at me with such searing intensity, itâs as if heâs trying to commit my face to memory.
âIn fact, this is the last time I want to see you, ever again.â
âYouâre overreacting.â
âIncorrect. If I were overreacting, Iâd have Gianni throw you out of this house and onto your arse in the street for being so fucking disrespectful to me.â
My cheeks flame with heat. âMy brother would never do that.â
âNo? You want to bet on it?â
Iâm about to say yes, but rethink it. Thereâs a good possibility Gianni would do anything Quinn asked. No matter how afraid of me he might be, heâs far more afraid of the Mob.
âThatâs what I thought.â
I blurt, âIâm sorry. Thatâs what I wanted to tell you. I shouldnât haveââ
âSave your apologies. I donât believe you, anyway.â
My hands are pressed flat against his chest. Underneath my palms, his heart pounds wildly. Instead of giving me the hard shake I know heâd like to give, he holds me captive against his body, glaring at me with the burning heat of a thousand suns.
And here I am once again, melting under his pure masculine beauty and wishing with all my heart this macho, swaggering idiot would kiss me.
But he just gave me an out from this madness. An out I canât pass up, unless I want to make myself miserable and betray my niece in the meantime.
Lusting after another womanâs husband is unforgivable.
Especially if the woman is a blood relative.
Gazing up into his eyes, I say, âIf you really donât want to see me again, Iâll respect that. But at least let me attend the wedding. Lili will need me there. After that, Iâll be gone.â
Inhaling slowly, he stares at me in silence.
âPlease, Quinn. Sheâs the only thing in the world that means anything to me. I know you donât care about what I want, but I believe you do care about what she wants. And if she finds out you banned me from the wedding, sheâll be devastated. Sheâd never forgive you.â
âThe only way sheâd find out is if you told her.â
I snap, âShe knows very well the only reason I wouldnât be with her on her wedding day is if I were in a coma!â
âThat can be arranged.â
I know it isnât a threat, because the corners of his mouth turned up.
Heâs teasing me.
Relieved, I roll my eyes. âSo weâre agreed?â
His gaze drops to my mouth. His hands tighten around my shoulders. My heartbeat goes haywire.
Then, in a weary voice that sounds like heâs a thousand years old, he says, âAye, viper. Weâre agreed. The wedding is the last time weâll see each other.â
âOkay. Ohâ¦wait.â
âWhat?â he growls, aggravated.
âWhat should I tell her about all the rest of the times?â
âWhat times?â
âBirthdays. Anniversaries. Holidays.â I gasp in horror. â
Oh, God, Quinn, what am I supposed to tell her about why I can never come visit her for Christmas?â
âMaybe you shouldâve thought of that before you unleashed your demon tongue on me.â
âButââ
âYouâll think of something!â he interrupts loudly. âJesus Christ on a fucking crutch, youâre enough to drive a man to drink!â
He releases me, drags both hands through his hair, emits a sound a rabid bear might make, and turns to head in the direction of the kitchen.
Halfway down the corridor, he turns back abruptly and shouts, âDonât forget about my bloody supper, woman!â
He turns around and continues down the hall, leaving me seething.
Glaring with narrowed eyes at his retreating back, I mutter, âI hope you like spider stew.â