Page 95 of Velvet Cruelty

“So are you.” She taps my chest. “You’re nicer than you pretend to be.”

I tug the split a little wider, exposing more porcelain thigh. “Is that right?”

“I think so.” She swallows. “Will the others be okay? Doc and Bobby and… and Adriano?”

“Are you worried about them? Have you changed your mind about us?”

“No. I mean, you’re the ones who want to get rid of me.”

I laugh. She’s sassy tonight. Maybe it’s her natural state, emerging with wine and a sense of safety. I slide my palm between her thighs. “I could have changed my mind, now I know you can cook?”

She inhales. “I was so nervous. I’ve never cooked for men before.”

I like that she was nervous. “What else can you cook?”

“A bit of everything. Pasta mostly.”

“You mean boiling water and throwing it in?”

“No. I can make potato gnocchi and tortellini and ravioli. Lots of things. Although I’d need a rolling machine.”

I kiss her neck, so she won’t see me smile. “What a delightful little girl you’re turning out to be.”

“T-thank you.”

Whether she’s aware of it or not, she’s spreading her legs, practically daring me to dip a hand between her folds.

“Is that what you want in a wife?” she asks. “A woman who cooks pasta?”

“My wife will not cook.”

“Because she’ll be too fancy to get her hands dirty?”

Here it is again. The teasing sass. “Exactly, bella. My mistress, on the other hand…”

“So, you want a woman who cooks, but not as a wife or mother to your children?”

I sigh. “I couldn’t explain to an Americano like you.”

“Didn’t you grow up in America?”

“I did, but that doesn’t make me American. Italians bring their homeland wherever they travel, as the Romans did.”

She smiles. “Did the Romans have mistresses?”

I nip the side of her neck. “Yes.”

She giggles. “Ah, I see.”

“Having a mistress is not a shameful thing. Marriage is an arrangement between two families. Your wife is your business partner. A mistress is a person you chose for pleasure.”

January considers this. “Is that what your father did?”

“My parents married for love.”

“Really?”

“You’re confusing that statement for a happy one, bella. My parents were miserable.”

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