Page 8 of Sinful Wrath

“A bucket list?”

“Yes. A list of things I want to do before I get married. Just FYI, they are fun and recklessness, which will put you out of your comfort zone but might loosen you up a little.”

Mikhail scoffs. “You can’t be serious.”

“I never joke about having fun.” I lick my spoon once more.

Mikhail only shakes his head, a few strands of his dark hair falling in his eyes.

My fingers twitch to brush them away, to learn what it feels like to run them through the dark strands…

Fuck, what am I thinking?

I need to lay off the champagne.

“No. This isn’t a fucking gameshow. This is an arranged marriage, which is going ahead whether you like it or not.”

“You’ve made that perfectly clear.” I scowl.

“Trust me,kisa, I’m about as happy as you are about this arrangement.”

“Fine.” I shrug. “I guess I’ll just have to tell my father that you’re refusing to marry me because I asked you to do one little thing for me. I’m sure he won’t be pleased to learn you’re backing out of the deal you’ve made…”

“Fine, go ahead. This deal is not my family’s idea, it’s your father’s. I’ll let him know how you are unwilling to go though it and are making unreasonable demands. Shall we see who he’ll be madder at?”

“But I’mnotrefusing. I already said yes. You are the one saying no. Besides, Papa always takes my side. Wanna call my bluff?”

I can practically see the wheels turning in Mikhail’s brain as he tries to weigh his options. “Fine. But we’re limiting this…listto one day.”

I can’t stop the smile from tugging at my lips as I get to my feet.

His eyes widen as I reach across the table for his hand.

“I think you’re going to want a little preview.”

“Lucia…”

The way he practically growls my name sends a shiver running down my spine.

“You made a deal with my father, Mikhail. If you want to make sure this goes ahead, I suggest you get your ass out of the chair.”

Mikhail’s nostrils flare, but he does as I ask.

My breath catches as he gets to his feet, and I can take in his full height.

Even in my ridiculous heels, he still towers over me, putting my eyes at the perfect level to admire the small amount of chest that peaks beneath the collar of his shirt.

“I hope you brought your car because we’re going on a little road trip.”

So far,Mikhail has quiet as he drives his ridiculously obnoxious G Wagon out of the city toward Coney Island bay.

I shoot my cousin a text to let her know that I won’t be making it to the club tonight. I know she’ll be pissed but when she learns the reason behind my bailing on her, she’ll forgive me.

After almost an entire bottle of champagne to myself, I’m suitably buzzed. I manage to link my phone up to the car and start blasting some of my favorite tunes through the speakers, much to Mikhail’s annoyance.

He might not say much, but that jaw of his certainly speaks volumes. It hasn’t stopped flexing as he keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead.

Let’s seeif I can change that…

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