Page 76 of Devil's Tulip

“Can I kiss my bride?” he asks. When my gaze lifts again, his is solely on my lips.

I lick them nervously. “I–I don’t know, I–”

His mouth captures mine, soft at first, like he’s giving me a chance to pull away.

I don’t.

So he tilts his head andreallykisses me, his tongue parting my lips with effortless dominance.

A moan slips out, my hands flying to his lapels as the room spins sweetly around me. I kiss him back with all the pent-up frustration, desire, and anger I’ve been trying to suppress, and he groans, the vibration traveling through my body, unzipping my spine.

His left hand curls up from my face to my hair, tugging at the band holding it up until the strands are free and spilling down my back. “I prefer your hair down,” he murmurs against my lips before stepping back and offering me his hand.

“Are you ready for dinner, Mrs. Hart?”

The name sends a dangerous flutter through my chest. Damn him for always knowing exactly how to slip under my skin, for making my walls shake when I swore they’d never crack again.

But no, I can’t open up to him. Not after what happened the last time.

I force a smirk. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Placing my hand into his, we walk out the room and down the stairs—where to my surprise, our guests are already waiting. I shoot Michael a sharp side-eye. Seriously? He should have fucking told me they were here instead of distracting me for an extra few minutes upstairs.

What if they think we’re rude hosts? Worse—what if they thinkI’mthe rude one?

Before my thoughts can spiral, Michael gently nudges me forward and announces, “Everyone, this is my wife.”

I brace myself for a long, awkward silence, but Elira comes up to me almost immediately with a warm smile, grasping my left hand.

“Your rings are stunning,” she coos, then pulls me into a quick hug, her voice dropping to a whisper against my ear. “You’re going to be fine.”

I didn’t think I could smile tonight with how nervous I’ve been, but I give her a genuine one as I squeeze her hands. “Thank you. Yours is very pretty too. Very… big.” The damn thing is so huge, it almost feels like it could cut me if I’m not careful. The diamond snags a little as our fingers part, drawing her twinkling laugh.

I really like her.

Maximo steps forward next, nodding at me gruffly before shaking Michael’s hand and leading his wife back to their seats.

The next contender is a stranger.

A very tall one.

He stands a few inches above the other men, his muscular build matching his height. His dark, inky hair is slicked back with gel, and his eyes—brilliant green, as vivid as moss—are almost unnerving in their intensity.

Not exactly cold, but calculating.

And though there’s a charming smile on his lips, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hello, beauty. I’m Romero.”

I eye him warily.Romero Lombardi. The famed criminal lawyer. I’ve never met him, but I know of him.

Aldo used to curse his name on a regular basis, and back when I was still in school, I’d overhear people talking about him—about how ridiculously good he is at his profession. Which is getting criminals who deserve to rot in jail off the hook.

Fitting that he’s a Nightshade member.

His smile becomes genuine, eyes glistening with amusement—like he can read my thoughts—as he lifts my hand to his lips for a lingering kiss. Michael shifts beside me. A second later, his arm snakes possessively around my waist, dragging me into him, and I can feel the tension radiating off him. Romero chuckles.

“Oh, I see how it is, Romero,” Elira teases. “Now that there's another female in the group, I’m no longer your beauty? You’re trying to slither your way into her heart now?”

Maximo’s eyes darken as he murmurs something into his wife’s ear, and whatever he says makes her giggle. But the lightness in the air dims when Romero takes a step back, revealing the last man. He’s still seated in his chair, not bothering to get up to greet us like the others.

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