Page 12 of The Don's Proposal

The woman I met tonight was sexy.

This woman is angelic, and makes it hard to breathe.

Gorgeous, in short.

The fear dancing around those eyes are the same, however. Fear of what is to come for her going against my order. Despite looking different, I’m sure of it. This woman is my little bird.

Taking in a breath, I prepare my words. I try to unscramble the mess brewing in my head, but I only become more jumbled when the betrayal of nature goes against my better judgment and causes her hair to sweep against her cheeks and her trembling lips.

“Leave.” The word comes out too soft for my liking. “Both of you. Escort my mother to her room.”

Her smile slips away and she sighs. “Santino, we just wanted a pleasant view with a meal.” My mother may be the woman who nurtured and raised me, but I am still the one who leads this family. Who shoulders everything that comes with the title of it all.

It’s my job to make sure my family doesn’t get comfortable with one who craves our downfall.

Camellia moves to stand, but freezes when I lift my hand.

“Not you. You need to finish your meal. You must’ve been starving to go out of your way.” I flick my wrist as Tommy quickly nods and urges my mother to follow him.

Once we’re left alone, I circle around the bench and take the seat next to her. Parting my knees, I sit back and fight the urge to look her way. If I do, I’ll slip and lose myself in staring.

I’ve lost myself enough times today when it comes to this woman. I can’t keep allowing her to affect me as much as she does.

Camellia doesn’t take another bite of her sandwich. Instead, she cradles it in her hands, hunching her shoulders like she’s a wild animal cornered.

Silence fills the air, and I can’t find the words I want to say. Anything that forms on my tongue makes me feel weak and even more unlike myself.

“Are you really going to use me as bait to get my brother here?” Her lips press together and she plucks at the crust before nibbling on a small piece. “He usually goes to bed early. He’s more of arise-with-the-sunkind of guy.”

Tilting my head back, I can hear her limbs shifting. These are not the sorts of secrets I want her to spill. I don’t give a fuck about his sleeping schedule.

“He’s not going to come. Maybe he’d rather give me away to his greatest enemy than deal with me himself. He’s cruel enough to think that would be funny.” Murmuring the words, she finally takes a bite big enough to make speaking impossible.

Against my better judgment, my eyes drift in her direction. I see her frown and the pain behind those pale eyes. Once more, I don’t like the way I feel when I look at her. Like I’m weak.

Unable to help myself, I let her gasp fuel me as I get my hands on her. Grabbing her, I drag her onto my lap. The last of her sandwich slips from her fingers and bounces off my knee to feed some critter overnight.

As bad as this is for me, my body screams to make her pain disappear. To transform her sadness into something else. Be it agitation, or discomfort, or whatever the hell I can bring out of her. Anything is better than this pitiful view of abandonment.

“Santino!” She hisses my name and steadies herself with my arm. As if knowing there’s no point in struggling, she settles against my chest. For once, her limbs aren’t stiff like a corpse.

No, Camellia is too warm for all that. Soft, too. As I wrap an arm securely around her waist, I tuck my nose into the crook of her neck and take in a lungful. It’s hard to smell the wildflowers when my soap is clinging to her skin.

First my clothes, and now my shampoo. My mother is up to something, I’m not blind. One little change and now I’m imagining myself rubbing all over her so nothing but my scent lingers on her body. I don’t want to think about her plans to make my life hell. I’d rather enjoy this moment while it lasts. Give myself a minute to show even the slightest of weaknesses.

The rage burning in my chest smolders to nothing but hot embers. Instead of taking away the heat entirely, she leaves my limbs growing warm and my cock throbbing. Even now, with her ass pressed perfectly against my lap, I’m sure she’ll notice it sooner or later.

What has happened to me? I hardly recognize myself.

If Rocco Parada saw me right now, he’d be a smart man to try and take Camellia back. He’d spot the vulnerability a mile away and use it against me. That’s what I’d do if I were in his shoes.

Instead, I’m in mine. My arm tightens against her, and I try to imagine letting her go. Not just from this bench, but from my home.

I don’t want to let her go. As a matter of fact, I won’t let someone take her away from me.

“Your brother is a dumb fuck.” Her throat vibrates with a snort, and it’s nothing shy of music to my ears. “That won’t change. His downfall won’t, either. Once I get my hands on him, I will make him hurt.” Her body grows a little taut at the promise in my voice. My thumb strokes her stomach. “Not just because he’s been a pain in my ass for years now, but because he’s kept you away from the world.”

The words in my head become less jumbled; my thoughts are clear now that I have a goal in mind.

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