Page 39 of Daddy's Little Spy

Benito had told her that Amara was in “her room” if Diana wanted some company. Which meant she was in the strange room where they’d gotten her tiara. Curiosity pulled her towards the stairs, and before she knew it, she was slowly making her way up to the second floor.

Stopping in front of what she was pretty sure was the right room, she lifted her fist and rapped lightly on the wood.

“Come in.”

If she hadn’t known better, she would have assumed the voice belonged to a sullen teenager. And when she pushed the door open, that was exactly what Amara looked like, stretched out on the pretty bed with the ruffled comforter, staring at the ceiling. Even when she’d seen her around the house, Diana couldn’t ever remember seeing her in just a pair of leggings and oversized t-shirt she was currently wearing.

“Benito said you were up here. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

Amara barely glanced at her. “You’re not. Close the door behind you. If you leave it open, Emilio will think I’m talking to him again and I am not.”

Pushing the door shut behind her as she’d been asked, Diana hesitated in the center of the room, uncertain of what to do next. It was obvious Amara was upset about something. Should she comfort her? Ask what was wrong? Ignore it and just talk about something else?

In the end, she opted for climbing up on the bed with her friend and stretching out beside her. They lay in silence for a while, just watching the sunlight play across the vast white expanse above them before Amara finally spoke.

“We had a fight.”

More silence, this time prompting Diana to ask, “About?”

“You.”

“Me?” Diana’s heart slammed against her ribcage and nervous butterflies danced in her stomach. “What about me?”

Instead of answering, Amara rolled off the bed and crossed to the closet where all of her costumes were stored. She disappeared into the mass of clothes and emerged a few minutes later, holding up a bottle of wine and two glasses with a triumphant grin.

“We need drinks. Lots of drinks.”

Sitting up on the bed, Diana crossed her legs and waited while Amara poured them each a very generous glass of wine.

“This is from my father-in-law’s winery, in Italy. Emilio’s parents retired there a few years ago. They send us a few bottles from each batch.” Amara lifted her glass and took a deep pull of the ruby liquid. “Anyway. I’m grounded until I ‘fix my attitude’ as my husband says. All because I called him an arrogant asshole who doesn’t have the sense God gave a gnat.”

Diana choked on her wine, coughing as she swallowed. “Do you have a death wish, woman?”

Grinning widely, Amara climbed back onto the bed with her and took another sip of her wine. “Probably. He was too mad to do anything before he left, but I’m sure I have one hell of a spanking coming later.”

“Do you ever not have a spanking coming?”

Amara shrugged. “Usually only when I’ve just finished getting my ass busted. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. And the sex is spectacular, especially when I’ve just been punished.”

“I’ll say. Oh, god.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Diana slapped a hand over it and stared at her glass as if the two sips of wine she’d indulged in were to blame for her uncharacteristic openness.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Giggling like a tween at a sleepover, Amara tugged Diana’s hand away from her mouth. “Spill. I’ve barely gotten to see you since the wedding, and I want to know all about it.”

The part of her that was used to keeping her private life, well, private, warred with the part of her that rejoiced in having a girlfriend to share things with. Between more sips of wine, she ended up sharing details from her wedding night she never imagined she would have shared with anyone.

“On the one hand, I’m kind of grossed out because Benny is like an uncle to me and it’s weird to think of him that way, but… damn, girl.” Amara waved a hand in front of her face. “That was hot as hell.”

“It was. But enough about me. Why did you call your husband an arrogant asshole?”

“Who doesn’t have the sense God gave a gnat,” Amara reminded her, polishing off her first glass and pouring a second.

“Right. How could I forget?”

“It’s kind of embarrassing, really. He wanted me to do something, and I didn’t want to.”

Diana frowned, confused by the turn the conversation had taken. “I thought you said the fight was about me.”

“Well, it was really about me not doing what he told me to do. But I didn’t want to because I was worried you’d think differently of me.”

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