Page 15 of The Bonventi Rise
“Yes, the event next week at Enzo’s. I’ll see you there.”
I straighten my jacket as I walk away, already starting to feel the anticipation of Alina’s answer. Despite her protests and moral outrage, I saw the look in her eyes when I laid out my proposition.
She wants this next opportunity just as much as I do. She just needs a little push to admit it.
9
MARCO
Iwalk back into the room, and Alina’s still at the table, arms crossed, looking like she’s ready for a fight. Good.
I sit down, and for a moment, time seems to slow. For the first time, I really take her in. The light from the chandelier catches the tint of fire in her beautiful green eyes. Even angry—especially angry—she’s fucking magnificent. Her arms are crossed tight against her chest, but it only emphasizes the elegant line of her collarbones framed by her dress. Her black hair falls across her face, and a strong desire rises to brush it back, just to graze her cheek and see if it’s as soft as it looks.
She’s got her full lips pressed into a thin line, probably trying to hold back whatever biting comment she’s got ready.
Damn, those lips.
Divine and painted the deepest shade of red. Like fresh blood on snow. The kind of lips that could ruin a man. And I smile, because she’s the type of woman who knows it.
But it’s her eyes that really get to me. Green like I’ve never seen before. There’s a mix of intelligence and assessment, and underneath it all, a hint of fear she’s trying desperately to hide.
Her jaw clenches, highlighting her defined cheekbones. Shit, even her anger is controlled.
I have no idea why, but in this moment, she’s fascinating. The way she holds herself, spine straight as steel, shoulders back—she’s ready for war.
God help me, even knowing this is purely business, I can’t help but appreciate the elegant package before me.
Fuck.
The sudden rush of realization makes me lose my smile.
“It’s good you wiped that look off your face,” she says through gritted teeth. “This isn’t a happy moment.”
I take a sip of water and nod. I’m normally not the one lost for words.
There’s a moment of silence, so I open my mouth to speak, but she interjects.
“Fine, I’ll do it. But as soon as you win, I’m fucking done. I’m out. You give me a good recommendation, leave me alone, and never contact me again.”
I look at her, studying her face. I can see it in her eyes—she’s not done.
“And I’m not staying with you,” she continues, her chin lifted in defiance. “I’ll find my own place. I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself.”
I nod. “Won’t that look bad, husband and wife not living together?” I ask, teasing.
She blows air out of her nostrils as she uncrosses her arms and leans forward.
“No, because I’m not fucking marrying you. I’ve got enough shit to deal with in my life; I don’t need being a divorcée added to the list,” she says and leans back, taking a drink of water. “We’ll be engaged. Waiting until after the election to get married because the people are more important than us.”
I take a deep breath and shift my head from side to side, acting like I’m thinking it over. In truth, I knew this would be her route. She’s too smart to commit to marriage, but like in any negotiation, you’ve got to ask for more than what you really need to get exactly what you want.
“That’s fine,” I say smoothly. “Perfect, in fact.”
The speed of my agreement catches her off guard and seems to have knocked some of the wind from her sails. She wasn’t expecting me to cave so easily. Good. Let her wonder what other cards I’m holding.
I lean back in my chair, enjoying the moment. “I was thinking about our backstory?—”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” she snaps, cutting me off again. “I’ve thought of it.”
