Maybe I should.
Even if it’s not a good idea.
I place my hand on her cheek, aware that everyone’s still watching us, but I don’t care.
I pull her closer.
Her eyes are on mine, and I lean closer, my lips hovering over hers.
I wait for her to pull away, but she doesn’t.
Instead, our lips collide.
Our kiss is hard and deep and hungry.
Wanting more.
When I touch her, it’s like I can’t remember anything else.
Nothing else exists.
She overtakes everything.
And I don’t know how she’s doing it.
When we break apart, confusion flickers through her eyes, her lips still parted.
I tell myself this is all for show.
How else are we going to get a shot at winning?
We need to do something that makes us more entertaining than the rest. The fact that she’s my wife and not my mistress or a slave should be a potentially interesting factor, but I don’t know if it’ll be enough.
But maybe it doesn’t matter.
Paola and I will have fun anyway, and even if we don’t win, we’ll still move up and get closer and closer to Gianni.