Page 5 of Their Princess

Therefore, I schooled my features to remove all traces of emotion.

“Something funny, princess?” He tilted his head, and what he didn’t say screamed louder than what he did: something about crazy chicks being more fun and wilder in bed.

Rubbing his jaw, Sas ran his tongue over his lower lip, making me shudder.

As if Rafe could sense it too, he stepped forward. The coolness of his patchless leather jacket brushed against my bare arm. I finally swallowed my laughs with a deep breath and didn’t laugh again, but I didn’t duck my head.

I wouldn’t show weakness. They didn’t blink so neither would I.

The president of the MC worked his jaw and finally said, “Sasquatch, your bride, Adelina Parisi.” He dulled my name by not using the Italian lilt, made it sound flat.

Sas kept his unnatural gaze fixed on me, beating down on me. Instead of his fists, he used his eyes to throw a gut punch. But I wasn’t about to back down. I rolled my shoulders, comingto my full height and relishing the extra few inches my heels afforded me. I was still short compared to anyone present, but it felt extreme next to this man.

“Are you going to introduce the rest of the club?” I asked.

“Mia figlia,” Papa warned.

“Please forgive me.” I painted a smile on my lips and infused a more amicable tone into my words. “It would honor me for you to introduce your friends?”

A vein in Sas’s jaw fluttered. He didn’t like that—why? But I pressed, “Or I could guess their names?” They couldn’t have been as ridiculous as Sasquatch.

“Adelina,” warned Rafe.

“Oh, right, uncle...” I gestured toward the line of bikers. “You’re one of them. Introduce us.”

If I was going down, I would take him with me.

Instead, the president answered, “Graff, Ghost, Pippin, Merry, Jackyl.” He placed a hand on his chest. “Wilde,” he introduced himself but didn’t say who the woman at the bench was.

“And her?”

“Bou,” answered Wilde.

I wasn’t here to become an MC bitch and join their old ladies. This would be no slumber party. We wouldn’t braid each other’s hair or share stories about our first kisses. Gross.

“Why Sas?” I asked, almost laughing again about his name.

He narrowed his gaze at me. “Why not me?”

“There are more handsome men here.” I glanced at Ghost and then Graff. He was cute. Both of them had better names than Sasquatch, even if the name did fit him.

“Nothin’ to do with looks, princess,” said Sas.

“Because you know you wouldn’t be chosen?” I asked.

“You’ve got a mouth,” he spat.

“Physically, yep.” I popped my lips. “Obviously. Don’t take it personally.”

“Your mouth?” He curled his lips.

I glowered at him. “Marrying you. Or any of you. I won’t be a docile mail-order bride.”

“Adelina,” hissed my father.

“What?” I demanded. “It’s what I am. They may not be paying for me with cash, but it’s nothing more than a business deal. I do know my own worth, thank you very much.” I had seen his books, unbeknownst to him, and knew exactly how much money his capos laundered after it came back from Mexico.

Papà simpered, his nostrils flaring.

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