Page 70 of Reckless Vow

“And you’re banned from here.” Baldo shakes off his hand and cracks his neck.

“You can’t do that,” Miguel protests as the two security guards crowd him.

“I can, asshole. Nobody touches my wife, or talks to her like you just did.”

A few whistles and a moment of silence is all that happens before Baldo faces me, and everyone resumes what they were doing before the interruption.

“Was that really necessary?” I try to disregard the butterflies in my stomach.

I can’t condone his behavior. However hot it was. Wait? What? Not hot.

Inappropriate. Aggressive. Panty-melting. Jesus. What was in that drink?

I don’t know how to cope with the tug of war inside me. What the actual fuck just happened? And why is it equally hot and infuriating?

Baldo steps closer. I can’t read his face. It’s full of something.

Raw. Primal and kind of scary. “Where is your ring?”

Chapter20

Brook

“What?”

He lowers his mouth to my ear. “You heard me, but just in case. Where. Is. My. Ring?”

I swallow and, fuck, he’s intimidating, and why does it make me feel all giddy?

“Myring is in my purse.”

He says nothing, just breathes near the side of my face for a moment, and I almost cower and tell him I didn’t want to lose it, but fuck him and his Neanderthal ways.

After what feels like an obscenely long time, he straightens up, looming over me. “Put it on.”

“Jesus.” I’m relieved, and bereft at the loss of his closeness at the same time, and he is still very much in my face.

Rolling my eyes—to ascertain how above this I am, which is a fat lie—I unzip my mini purse and fish out the ring.

I take my time, while trying to ignore the warm feeling spreading through my chest and stomach.

This is fucked-up, but terrific. Terrifically terrifying.

He watches me like a hawk as I slide the ruby on my finger.

“Good. Now everyone knows.” He nods, and he’s about to turn.

I grab his arm. “Knows what?”

We stand in a silent, glowering duel for a moment, completely still, while the rest of the world dances, laughs, talks and drinks around us. But it all fades as my hand trembles, squeezing his biceps.

Somehow, this moment feels significant. I don’t understand how or why it’s this particular one, but I equally enjoy it and dread it.

Some deranged, insecure part of me really, really, really wants him to commit. As if right here, right now, it would even mean anything.

As if it would ever mean anything.

And yet if I was to choose between living my life before this moment, and being destroyed again by Baldo Cassinetti, I would choose the latter.

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