Page 68 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
“Still.” Luca’s voice turned sly. “Maybe I should go downstairs and warn him not to try anything funny tonight.”
I groaned. “Luca—”
But it was too late. He was already heading out the door. By the time I stepped outside, Lorenzo was leaning casually against his car, looking like he was made to fit into everything damn thing he ever wore.
Luca crossed his arms. “Bianchi, don’t try anything funny tonight.”
Lorenzo smirked. “I’ll try.”
Luca squinted. “What do you mean try?”
Lorenzo grinned wider.
“Luca, stop insinuating things!” My face burned as I grabbed Lorenzo’s wrist and pulled him toward the car. “And Lorenzo, stop feeding his thoughts.”
Lorenzo laughed. “What? I didn’t say anything!”
“You didn’t have to!”
He grinned at me in a way that felt both sinful and pleasurable before he got into the driver’s seat. My pulse was beating way too fast because now, thanks to Luca, all I could think about was Lorenzo “trying” something. And the fact was that I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted him to stop. I wanted him to “Try.”
The drive to the outskirts of town passed in a blur of headlights and the quiet hum of the engine. We passed a few landmarks, which I pointed out to Lorenzo like he didn’t know the city as well as I did, or even more.
Lorenzo wasn’t much for conversation. It was almost like he was in his head throughout the drive, but I didn’t mind. My thoughts kept me busy enough, mostly about the fact that we were spending the night at a hotel.
Of course, in any romance novel, this would be the part where we arrived at the front desk, and the receptionist, looking apologetic but secretly pleased, would say, “I’m so sorry, but we only have one room left.”
Then, Lorenzo and I would be forced to share.
There’d be some awkward but undeniable longing to be with each other. There would be some moment when he’d watch me from across the room as I got ready for bed. Maybe there would be a moment when we’d end up too close, neither of us moving away. There’d be a moment where I would agree he gets into the bed with me and…
I had read enough books to know how this scenario usually played out. But thankfully, reality had a different script.
We checked in. Two rooms. No drama. Perfect.
Lorenzo handed me my key. “Freshen up. We’re leaving in an hour.”
I gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
He smirked but walked off toward his room.
The second my door shut behind me, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. He didn’t say so much during the ride, but there were a lot of unspoken words that I could deduce from the way he glanced at me for split seconds before putting his eyes back on the road.
The gala was just another performance. Smile, pose for the cameras, and pretend my stomach didn’t still flip when I thought about our kiss. Easy.
I undressed and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water calm my nerves. But it wasn’t until I got out, towel-drying my hair, that I realized something was very, very wrong.
My dress. I had picked a sleek, backless gown that tied at the nape of my neck, elegant and stunning. But there was just one problem. I couldn’t tie it myself. Panic set in fast.
“No. No, no, no,” I muttered, twisting my arms behind me, trying to somehow grab the delicate fabric. My fingers fumbled, slipping, failing miserably.
“Why does shit like this always happen to me?” I let out a frustrated groan.
I had two options.
One: Rip the dress off, pretend it never existed, and show up in pajamas, effectively ending my social life. Two: Ask for help.
I shut my eyes. I hated this. I hated the thought of knocking on Lorenzo’s door like some helpless damsel in distress, asking him to tie my dress like some blushing heroine in a period drama. But I had no choice.
