Page 12 of Keeping My Bride

“I’ll order you new clothes,” I tell her. “Benito will show you to your room.” Then, I turn my back on her to head to my new office.

“What about Dante’s room?” she asks, causing me to turn back around quickly. “Dante is staying here, as my bodyguard,” she informs me.

“The fuck he is,” I hiss. I stare at the tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed man that I once knew as a boy. “That’s not part of the deal.”

“I’m making it part of the deal,” she says, jutting her chin out and up like she’s suddenly royalty in this house with a say in what goes and what doesn’t.

A dark chuckle releases from my mouth. “I won’t accept any kind of deal from a Moretti,” I tell her. “You’re staying. He’s going.”

“No.”

“No?” I test her.

“If he goes, then I go,” she says so stubbornly that I want to take her over my knee and beat the defiance out of her in that moment.

And just the thought of her bent over my knee has my cock jumping in my pants. I wonder what kind of panties she’s wearing under all those clothes? I wonder if she’s wearing innocent, white, cotton underwear…or a black, lacy thong that emphasizes her ass cheeks. Fuck, I want to find out.

“Do you have a bodyguard here for me?” she questions, effectively ruining my filthy musings.

“Not yet,” I answer. Honestly, the thought of protecting her hasn’t even crossed my mind, but she is right — she is my wife now, and protection is a must. Although, if anyone would take her from me, I wouldn’t give them a cent in return. They could keep her, for all I care. She would be out of my hair and the marriage contract would still be valid since it was something beyond my control.

“Then it’s settled,” she says. “Dante is staying.”

I walk over to her and stare her down. She’s so petite, especially without heels on now. At the church, she was a few inches taller, but now I tower over her little frame.

“He can stay until proper protection is hired,” I concede through gritted teeth.

A smile graces her pouty lips, and I hate to admit that I like seeing it on her pretty face. Turning and walking away from them before I do something stupid like smile back or try to kiss those bee-stung lips, I throw over my shoulder, “Benito will show you both to your rooms.”

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