Page 29 of Not Mine to Keep

“Secondly, I don’t think we have to play pretend that we had some love-at-first-sight thing.” She ran her hands through her wild, messy hair. “We only need to ensure he believes you’re the better choice than Rocco, right?”

Fair enough. Plus playing pretend will lead to sex.I could feel it in my bones, and I couldn’t let that happen.You’re an assignment.“So that means we don’t need to swap details about ourselves, then.”

She waved her finger like I was her student. Fuck if I’d ever had a teacher like her growing up. “I still want details.”

“Fine,” I relented. Giving in to a woman wasn’t my normal go-to reaction. “What do you want to know about my family?” I didn’t talk about myself, not unless I was paying my therapist $400 an hour to do it. Even then, she did most of the talking. I had issues. What could I say?

“Well.” Dropping both feet to the floor, she gripped her thighs. “I’m worried I’ll scare you off with any too-forward questions.”

“Yeah, I might jump from the jet without a chute if you try and dig too deeply. I do frighten easily.”

The smile she gave me was worth every second of my smartassery.Fuck my life. I will not have sex with you.

“Have you ever jumped from a plane?” No lip-chewing this time. Just a kill-me-now swipe of her tongue along the seam of her mouth. “Wait. Army Ranger. You probably did.”

I nodded. “Back to my family.” I’d rather talk about them than myself, including my time in the military.

“Okay.” She unbuttoned her jean jacket and removed it.

Yes, great idea.Because so help me, this woman in a tank top with tits like hers would destroy my focus.

“You okay?” she whispered, reading me perfectly.

“Not even a little bit,” I snapped out, which was not what I’d wanted to say, dammit. “I’m just not a fan of ... sharing.”

“Listen, if you don’t want to—”

“It’s fine.” My shoulders drew together, my back muscles tense. “I have an older brother. Constantine. Well, not much older. I’ll be forty next month, and he’s just north of that number.” I looked out the little window; we were well above the clouds now. “Even though our father is very much in our life, Constantine still takes on that role. He’s a good man.” I swallowed. “And my younger brother, Enzo, is a chef in Charlotte. He’s married to the love of his life. Adopted his wife’s daughter, Chiara. And they have twins on the way.” My eyes fell closed when I thought about the fact I now only had one sister. “Isabella, although everyone but Hudson calls her Izzy, is the youngest. She’s spunky, opinionated, has horrible taste in men, and now works with us at our side gig.”

“And who’s Hudson?”

I hadn’t realized I’d even dropped his name. “Navy SEAL. Best friend to Constantine. Former FBI. Now owns a bar and also works with us.” I went ahead and finished the painful part before she could ask. “And you already know about Bianca, Enzo’s twin sister. She was murdered, and it was connected to my mother’s side of the family.”And here’s a little bit of news you won’t like.“My mother’s family ... they’re mafia. But no connection to the DiMaggios.” I’d made sure. Not thatI would have sex with Callie, but I had to ensure there was zero chance we were even remotely related before this plan went through.

“That’s—”

“Why I don’t like sharing.” I filled my cheeks with air, giving her a clear sign I was frustrated and not able to hide it, then let the breath go. “Your turn. How’d you wind up growing up in Nashville?”

“Well.” She squirmed in her seat again, when what she needed to do was squirm on my lap, get my cock hard again to distract me from my dark past with sex.

Maybe I’m the problem, not her.I was the one running hot and cold when it came to her, and she simply mirrored my behavior. And now my therapist had to be taking over my thoughts, because I couldn’t possibly have psychoanalyzed myself like that, given my current state.

“My aunt was living in Nashville at the time I was born, so I grew up there,” she finally went on, as if knowing my simmering thoughts needed a moment to settle first.

“You don’t call your aunt Mom.” I wasn’t sure why I’d pointed that out, but ...

“My mother told Tia she didn’t want me to call Tia that. She said Tia could raise me, but she still saw herself as my mother, even though I never did.”

“Did your mother visit?”

She held up her palm and wiggled her fingers. “Maybe five times since I was born. Never long enough for me to get to know her, which probably made it easier when she’d take off again.”

“Oh.” Yeah, that was my brilliant response. I was a work in progress on the showing-emotions thing when it came to anyone outside my family. Not that this woman ever needed a front-row seat to my emotions or the chaos in my mind.Assignment. A job. The marriage would be a means to an end.Why in the hell did I need to keep reminding myself of that?

Her hand went to her lap, and she fidgeted with the silver ring on her right hand, spinning it around. “When my mother died in anaccident last year, my aunt took me to the funeral in Stockholm. It was my first time out of the country, but my grandparents were born and raised in Sweden, and Christie—my, uh, mother—had said when it was her time, she wanted to be buried in the same cemetery as her parents.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

She surrendered a little shrug. “Armani recognized my aunt, then he looked at me, and it was game over. He remembered when my mother left him as his mistress thirty years ago. She wasn’t going to have me, but Aunt Tia couldn’t have kids and begged her to let her raise me. And after I was born, she ran right back into that man’s arms. Well, she was with him whenever her band wasn’t traveling Europe. She was a singer.”

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