Page 100 of Sins of the Orchid
Is he—I cut off my train of thought. He wouldn’t be thinking about marriage with me. There was no way he’d do a marriage contract for me. Despite my brain being reasonable, my heart fluttered with hope.How stupid!
Marrying someone of the Cosa Nostra had never crossed my mind.Until now. Damn it, I couldn’t think about that. Everyone knows you don’t marry your first boyfriend. Even if he was handsome, gave me the most amazing orgasms, was the most eligible bachelor of New York City, and women of all ages fawned over him.
“I am certain,” I finally said. There was no sense in getting myself worked up. Besides, I knew from Adriano that men of the Cosa Nostra didn’t really look at me the same way as daughters of other families. My upbringing and freedom made me unappealing to them, which was perfectly fine with me.
Except that thought didn’t sit well when it came to Santi. Maybe he didn’t see me as marriage material either?
Goddamn it, I didn’t need these thoughts. This was just dating a super-hot man that I loved… A soft groan left me. I was utterly, devastatingly in love with him.
“What?” Santi questioned me, his eyes on me.
I couldn’t tell him that it bothered me to think he wouldn’t find me marriage material. Besides, it was better I didn’t marry. Most men would want to marry me only for my fortune. But not Santi. He had enough money of his own.
I’d always said I wouldn’t marry into this world, and I wouldn’t die in it. It just wasn’t meant to be.
“I don’t want to talk about the nonsense of marriage contracts,” I admitted softly. Then remembering what we talked about right before this sore topic came up, I shifted the conversation. “Do you know where Dad’s family is from?” Santi’s dark eyes flashed with surprise. It was odd that I didn’t know, I’d give him that. I smiled sheepishly. “We never talk about it. I think he tries to keep all that stuff away from me.”
“I can see that,” he muttered. “You weren’t exactly born and bred in this world.”
There we go again. The reminder!
I frowned. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”
His hand took the nape of my neck and he pressed a hard, deep kiss on my lips that was over too quick, then hung his arm over my shoulder as we continued walking.
“It’s not a bad thing,” he continued like he didn’t just take my breath away with his kiss. “He probably didn’t want to scare you.” When I gave him a puzzled look, he explained, “Your upbringing was considerably different. Your mom and grandmother gave you more freedom in your thirteen years than women in our world have for their entire life.”
And anotherconfirmation. It wasn’t the first time he’d said this.
“Which is stupid and chauvinistic towards women in the underworld, if I may add.” His lip tugged up at my comment.
“I don’t disagree, but it is for their protection. We create enemies in our lifestyle, and those enemies limit the freedom for women born into our world.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one,” I muttered reluctantly, dragging another smile out of him. “But you could also teach women to defend themselves, you know. Instead of leaving them vulnerable.”
He threw his head back and laughed. I was almost tempted to show off one of the moves DeAngelo taught me to show him we could be just as fierce. Or tell him about one of our missions. But I didn’t. When he said nothing else, comfortable silence followed, and my thoughts drifted back to last week in Columbia.
DeAngelo booked us a house in Caracas. My nerves danced through my skin, making me antsy. I could practically taste the restlessness and excess energy colliding within me. I had to burn off some of it so I could keep a clear head when we left for our mission tomorrow.
Dressed in my tight black pants and a black tank top, I headed back downstairs to the gym. Earlier today, DeAngelo and I went over the plans and the map of the area we would target tomorrow.
I was doing this to avenge my mother's death. To make them pay. But this wasn’t me. Being a badass warrior woman just wasn’t part of my DNA. I somewhat enjoyed the physical part of the training, but that was where it ended for me.
Torture, blood, killings… it just wasn’t me.
“Where are you going?” DeAngelo’s voice startled me and sent my heart into overdrive.
“Jesus, DeAngelo,” I mumbled, holding my hand against my chest. “You scared the living daylights out of me.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my heart. Then another. “I was going to do another thirty minutes in the gym. I’m too worked up.”
He nodded in understanding. He had been around me for a long time. By now, he often understood me without any need for explanation.
Together, we continued to the gym.
“Hand-to-hand combat training?” he asked.
I groaned. It was my least favorite form of exercise and training, but I knew he was right. I had to work on it.
“Sure, why not?” I answered, though reluctantly.
