Page 16 of Daddy's Little Spy

“She was being nosy, and she knows it. Teresa will be fine. She’s used to the way things are run in the Rinaldi family.”

“And how is that, exactly?” Diana’s tone was an undeniable challenge, but there was a note of curiosity there as well.

“You’ll see.” Exposing her to her new way of life little by little was far more interesting than laying it all out on the table for her. And less likely to send her running for the hills.

She opened her mouth, most likely to call him some unflattering name, but she was saved by the arrival of their appetizer. When she reached for the plate, he lightly swatted at her hand.

“I don’t remember telling you that you could move, bambolina.”

“So I’m not allowed to eat?”

“You are.” Lifting a small slice of freshly toasted bread, he carefully spooned the cheese on top, then drizzled it with a bit of honey before presenting it to her. “Daddy is going to feed you.”

* * *

Daddy is going to feed you.

Her brain instantly rebelled at the idea. It was bad enough he’d disciplined her in public, basically forcing her to sit in timeout right at the dinner table, but now he wanted to feed her?

No. Uh-uh. Not happening.

“You can’t feed me. What if someone sees us?” The booth they were in wasn’t out in the open, but they weren’t completely hidden from sight, either.

“So? You care so much about the opinions of strangers?”

There was a challenge in his eyes, and the overly competitive side of her ached to meet it. And he had a point. She didn’t recognize anyone here, so did she really care what they thought of her?

Still, the idea of having him feed her like a child grated. And it was just one more thing to add to the list — no coffee, no wine, the punishments, ordering for her (and spaghetti with meatballs at that!) — all of it was making her feel sulky and pouty, like a little girl.

Was that his endgame? Was he trying to make her feel childish and silly to humiliate her? Was this all really some elaborate trick?

More to the point, was the humiliation worth a chance at getting inside the Rinaldi family?

“Fine,” she conceded with a huff. Great, now she was acting like a child, too.

For once, the smile playing at his lips actually met his eyes as he popped the sweet and salty concoction into her mouth. “Good girl.”

It pissed her off that her insides warmed instantly at the phrase. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with her?

“Why do you keep saying that? I’m not a dog,” she snarled when she’d swallowed.

“I’m just letting you know I’m pleased with your choices, bambolina.”

“And that. What does that even mean? I don’t speak Italian, so I don’t know if it’s offensive or not.”

“The literal translation of the term is ‘little doll’. It’s a common term of endearment.”

She tried to commit the word to memory so she could look it up later. It was killing her to not grab her phone from the table to do exactly that, but she had a gut feeling the punishment for more disobedience at this point would be as immediate as it was harsh.

Which was another thing her traitorous pussy shouldn’t find so damn appealing. Sure, she liked a little rough sex now and then. But actually being punished was a whole other level she’d never really considered, and it was more than a little shocking to realize how excited her body was by the prospect.

Holding up another bit of bread for her, Benito smiled. “So, how were things in the closet business today?”

Fuck. Her mind went blank, then into overdrive as she tried to think of something to say. Luckily, she was able to take her time chewing while her brain concocted an answer. “Boring,” she finally said with a jerk of her shoulder. “It’s closets.”

“And the traitor? The one you suspect of selling your secrets?”

“Still not enough evidence to bring him down. But I will. Everyone messes up eventually.”

Not so much as a flinch. Either Benito Rinaldi really was clueless as to her true identity, or he had the world’s best poker face.

“Indeed. Everyone gets careless. Makes mistakes.” His eyes darkened, but his expression never shifted. “Takes risks they shouldn’t.”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to keep her true emotions tucked beneath the confident businesswoman persona. It was a game of cat and mouse, only she couldn’t quite figure out which one she was. And she was worried she wouldn’t know for sure until the cage locked around one of them.

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