Page 185 of Forced Vows

"And I'm positive it would have only made me want you more." His erection growing between us is undeniable proof of his words.

"Sheesh, Miceli! Sex doesn't solve everything. I'm not sure it solves anything."

He gets the weirdest expression on his face when I say that.

"I should have controlled my need for you long enough to tell you what was going on. I'm sorry I didn't."

"You're sorry?" That's not a word I've ever heard from the men in my family.

Not my grandfather for sure, but not my uncle either and not even my dad.

"Yes. I used to think the words were useless, but you deserve to hear them. I'm not sorry I moved you in. It had to be done."

That's the Miceli I know…and yes, love, darn it!

"I am very sorry you were hurt by the way I did it though."

Heaven help me for being a fool, but I believe him.

Chapter 63: MICELI

Róise doesn't respond to my apology, but something inside me settles after saying the words. Maybe they have power after all.

Not that I believe an apology without actions to back it up is worth the air it took to utter the words, but saying the words and then proving their sincerity with actions? Róise deserves it all.

Which is why I text one of my men to get us another cat bed for Pusheen and move the current one into our bedroom.

Our cat does not like being woken for the transfer and swipes her claws lightly across my forearm to let me know. I take the shallow scratches as a win.

I'm finishing up a plate of street tacos for Róise when she walks into the room. She's wearing my shirt, the top three buttons undone. On her shorter frame that leaves the entire valley between her breasts exposed.

The hem hits her mid-thigh, but the white silk is all but transparent, her pink nipples and areolas easy to make out. The only thing that adds a tiny bit of modesty is the pleating down the middle that is more opaque over her pussy.

She looks at the plate greedily. "Are those for me?"

"Yes." I almost ask if that's for me, meaning her body, but I know the discussion we started in the closet isn't over.

This time, I'm not letting my libido derail me.

Róise takes the plate and wanders into the living room. This part of the penthouse is total open concept. So the living room, dining room and kitchen are all in one big space. There's a sunroom off the kitchen with a smaller table that opens onto the terrace.

I usually do what Róise is and eat on one of the sofas, if I'm not eating standing up by the sink.

Her gaze is fixed on the spectacular view out the window. "What is this place?"

"It's my apartment." I sit down beside her and steal one of her tacos.

"Hey, those are mine. You said."

"Didn't your parents teach you to share?" I tease.

I know my girl. She's not eating six street tacos in one sitting. Four maybe. But not six.

"Fine, you can have two," she says like she's making a big concession.

Did I call it, or what? "Thank you, mi dolce fiore. Your generosity touches me deeply."

With a defiant look, she takes a bite of taco and chews aggressively. "I thought you lived with your family at the De Luca building?"

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