Page 70 of Forced Vows

Along with the jumpsuit, I'm wearing pink tennis shoes and a matching wrap style headband holding my curls back. It's a lot of pink.

Which I'm starting to like for more reasons than bedeviling Miceli.

Pink is a cheerful color and I find myself smiling more when I get dressed to go out.

"Hi, Miceli," Fiona says from behind me.

His gaze slides past me to take in my cousin. She's wearing an olive green t-shirt and beat up black Converse with the velour tracksuit.

"Hello, Fiona." Miceli's voice always gentles when he talks to my cousin. "I take it from the pink outfit that you are coming with us?"

"Why do you say that?" I ask.

"Am I wrong?" he counters.

"No."

"It's a good thing I brought the Beamer and not my McLaren."

"A McLaren Speedtail has three seats," Fiona says.

Miceli nods and smiles. "Which would leave no room for the kitten carrier and you. Besides, I never allow passengers in the seat to my right."

Security reasons, I bet, but I don't ask.

"I still want to know why you think Fiona wearing pink indicates she's coming with us. She likes pink."

"I'm sure you do too, but you wearing so much of it is a dig at me."

"That's pretty conceited." If true.

"Deny it."

"My styling choices are my business," I sidestep.

"That's what I thought. You didn't wear any pink in Portland, or that day in Sev's office." He makes it sound like an accusation.

"You two met in Portland?" Fiona asks before I can reply. "When? How?"

"Those are excellent questions, and your cousin can answer them all in the car," Miceli says.

My glare could singe paint but it doesn't even make Miceli blink. "I'm not answering any questions."

The look he gives me says, "Want to bet?"

From the look of rabid curiosity on Fiona's face, I don't like my odds.

"For your information, I was playing a part both in Portland and in Don De Luca's office—"

Miceli cuts me off. "Call him Severu." He opens the front passenger door for me.

"You call him Sev." I climb into the BMW, settling on the butter soft leather seat.

Miceli leans down, his face so close I can feel his breath and he winks. "My cousin and I do it to annoy him. Sev's never liked having his name shortened."

I don't have a response. I'm too busy trying not to close the distance between our mouths.

With a smirk, Miceli straightens, steps back and closes the door.

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