Page 97 of Wickedly Played
“Serena?”
With one last look in the mirror, I smile at my reflection. “I’m coming,” I call out.
“You will be saying that a lot tonight,” Max replies cheekily.
“Someone’s feeling a little cocky.”
He smirks while placing a hand on his heart as he circles me. We take each other in; he’s still wearing his sexy Armani black suit with the crisp, lake-blue button-down underneath, and it is open at the collar.
“Man, you can wear the hell out of a suit,” I compliment with a wink.
He whistles. “Sorry, I’m trying to catch my breath.”
“Such a charmer.”
Reaching into his suit coat, he pulls out a red jewelry box and opens it in front of me. Inside the infamous red box, a pair of gorgeous diamond earrings sits. They have to be at least a carat, if not a little more. My heart hammers in my chest as I look from the box to Max’s face.
“Baby, we didn’t get a chance to do this the right way. I don’t take back how we got together, but I wish I had the chance to date you like you deserved.”
My eyes blink several times as I process what he’s said. “Max… This is so sweet.” I take the box from him, quickly remove the earrings from the packaging, and fasten them into my ears. Then, I loop my arms around his neck. “Thank you, tough guy. You know, for a bodyguard, you’re pretty romantic.”
He throws his head back. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t tell anyone. No one would believe you.”
Twenty minutes later, we are sitting at The London Chop House. Max’s hand was possessively on the small of my back the whole way to the table, pulling out my chair, sliding it in, and then kissing my cheek.
“So, this is what it is like to be on a date with Max Fitzpatrick,” I giggle.
He winks. “I guess so. I don’t really date too much. After being on active duty, and then doing the stuff for the families, then all that bull shit with my brother, I never found the time actually to date.”
“Mr. Fitzpatrick.” I turn to see a small Italian man standing in front of our table, his face beaming with a generous smile. “Who is this lovely lady?”
“I’m Serena.” I hold out my hand, and he immediately flips it over to kiss the top of my hand. His lips linger a little longer than average over my skin.
Max growls from his seat across from me. I feel Max pulling me back away from the man with a possessiveyank. “Watch it, Iago. I don’t care if you’re Mario’s brother. That’s my woman.”
Iago drops my hand like I’m poisonous, steps back, and immediately starts to sputter an apology. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Fitzpatrick. Let me get your drinks and meals out for you and your lovely friend.”
As soon as he leaves, I lean in to arch an eyebrow at Max. “Your woman?”
He sits back in his chair with his ankle resting over his knee. The mafia persona is so much different than his bodyguard one. I’m beginning to see a combination of the two personalities intertwined together. “Yes, sweetness.”
“When was this decided?”
“The minute you hired me to be your bodyguard.”
Someone arrives with a bottle of wine, pours the sweet white wine into our glasses, delivers a cheese platter, and then leaves us to our little power struggle.
My lips twitch into a smile. “I didn’t even hire you, if you remember. Captain Chuckle Head… I think that’s what I called you?”
“Oh, yeah. Your assistant hired me.”
“Now look at us,” I giggle. Fluttering my eyelashes, I wrap my fingers around the stem of my glass to bring it to my lips.
Max’s lips are close to my ears as he whispers the next part. “Baby, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
He’s giving me some control.
“I want to.”
