Page 22 of Borrowed Bride

My father steps back and reveals the absolute vision of Gianna as she walks into the study. My mouth drops open and I don’t even try to hide it.

She pauses at the door and curls her hand on her hip, a light smile playing across her shining peach lips. She’s dressed in asatin, white floor-length dress with a single thigh-high slit up one leg. As she poses, she stretches one long leg out to the side and the fabric pours around her like liquid. Each breath makes the fabric shimmer like the ripples of a rock pool. Sparkling blue beads decorate the neckline and the hem of the slit, and her thick, auburn curls flow around her gorgeous face like some kind of copper halo.

Her eyes, lined with black, lock on to mine, and her smile widens. “Since no one saw the wedding dress, I suppose this will have to do.”

Oh. She’s good.

Diamonds sparkle at her neck and dangle from her ears, a gift I left her earlier this afternoon when informing her of the dinner. I’m pleased to see she’s wearing them.

“You lookamazing.” No word of a lie. I approach her, still aware that my father is watching and never have I been more excited to kiss her than in this moment. However, as I take her hand and lean in, she holds up one hand and presses her fingertips to my lips.

“Nu-uh. Ijustfinished my makeup,” she says with a sly smile. “Later.”

Oh, she’s killing me.

The muscles of my abdomen tighten and my cock twitches faintly in my suit. It takes every ounce of my control to smile and kiss against her fingertips instead.

“Of course, dear.”

“Father.” Gianna’s eyes slide away from me and lock on to Dante. “You look devastatingly handsome.”

Dante straightens up slightly at the unexpected compliment and clears his throat. “Yes, well. Tonight it is called for.” With that, he strides out of the room and Gianna instantly relaxes slightly.

“Is tonight really that important?” she asks.

“Yes. Tonight we have to ensure peace with the other families. As you’re aware, many were pretty unhappy when they learned I married out of the blue. Some took it as a personal insult against their daughters that I chose someone not from any of the top families.”

“These people really value unions, huh?”

“It’s how things are done,” I say, unable to take my eyes off her. “Going against the norm is unheard of.”

Gianna looks back at me, pinning me in place with those gorgeous eyes of hers. “But some people are worth it.”

Emilia darts into my thoughts and I nod. “Exactly.”

“It’s better this way,” she continues. “Maybe they will learn not to treat their daughters like livestock.”

“If that was the case, I wouldn’t need to go to such lengths,” I murmur as she slides her hand around my elbow. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

The dinner starts welland to my relief, many of the family delegates love Gianna. Whether it’s because of her upbringing or her ability to read people, she gets on like a house on fire with almost everyone. Those with something to say about my sudden wedding clam up the moment they see her and eat their words the moment they talk to her.

She’s kind and courteous, humorous, and above all, respectful. She bows her head, shakes the hands of the right people, and delivers such tasteful compliments that any of the women jealous of her instantly become her friend. I stay by her side for an hour, but business pulls us apart. Anton and Ben follow her closely, and I watch her from across the room as talkof drug deals, territory, and a new shipment of fake guns from Mexico washes over me.

Gianna is a distraction I never want to lose.

I listen to one man detail the struggles of keeping one of his businesses afloat since ratting out a mole in his organization—turns out the man skimming off the top was also the man keeping things running. Another complaint is that the Triad are getting too bold in their deals and asking for too much money. They ask my opinion and I give it as abruptly as I can. We spend an hour talking back and forth about the benefits and consequences of welcoming the Triads into a serious deal—I think it would benefit us, but some Italians refuse to look beyond their own borders.

I refuse to care. I won’t secure the Barrone legacy by relying on families that fall apart after rooting out traitors. The conversation bores me and I cast my attention back to the main room, seeking out Gianna.

I find her within a few seconds, then anger grips my heart. She’s across the room, laughing alongside a man who puts his hand on her bare arm and leans in close as if they are sharing a private joke.

My world turns red.

She’s not just with any man.

She’s with Leonardo Simone.

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