Page 38 of Bossy Ex's Brother

“Shame,” I said, smiling lightly. “I’ve always wanted a pretty woman to spend all my money.”

She laughed a little, and then her eyes glowed with gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said a little shyly. I knew she wasn’t thanking me for the money but more so for the trust.

“You’re welcome,” I responded, squeezing my hands around the table to keep from grabbing her. God, she looked so sweet when she smiled like that. It made me want to do very dirty and very bad things to her.

But I held myself back, and she left. I had to sit and take deep breaths until the desire subsided. Except I didn’t think it would ever completely subside. And while I said what I said as a joke, there was some truth to the statement. I didn’t care if she spent thousands of dollars on frivolous things. I wanted her to. It gave me a strange sort of satisfaction knowing that she was spending my money, that I was the one providing it for her.

Yeah, I didn’t get it, either. It was part of the possessive shit, I guess.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

Another thing was that Jane’s plan actually seemed to be working because I started to see a real difference in the clients that stepped into the bar. One evening, I came in to see a group of men in tailored suits and cashmere loafers sitting at a table. Jane was sitting with them and talking, smiling, and laughing as she entertained them with whatever story she was telling.

They were staring at her, seemingly enraptured.

I couldn’t stop the burst of jealousy that spiraled through me.Why the fuck were they looking at her? Who gave them the fucking right?

I wanted to throw them out instantly, but then she looked up, caught my eyes, and smiled even wider.

She got up and headed over to where I was standing by the doorway. “Hey. These guys are from the investment firm downtown. You should come and meet them.”

“I’d rather eat coal,” I muttered, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me over to them. I didn’t stop her—I was still concentrating on the feeling of her skin against mine.

“Hi, guys,” she said. “This is the owner of this fine establishment, Luca Rossi.”

They looked up at me with friendliness and not recognition, which meant that none of them were involved in the mafia. Good.

I nodded at them. “How are you, gentlemen?”

“This is excellent Chambolle-Musigny,” one of them said, holding up his glass of wine. “I haven’t been able to find one that has aged quite this well. Where did you get it from?”

“Not sure.” I had no fucking clue what that even was.

I glanced at Jane. It was her doing.

“I gotta say your manager here is doing an excellent job,” the man said, and he, too, gazed admiringly at her.

I nearly growled again. To keep from punching the man’s face in, I gave him a tight smile and then walked away.

She’s a beautiful woman,I told myself as I stomped to the office, the fire building inside me.Of course, men will look at her. It doesn’t mean anything.

But it didn’t make me feel any better or any calmer. She’s mine.

A few seconds later, Jane threw open my office door and demanded, “What was that back there?”

I was still standing up, trying to calm the fire in my blood, so I turned to regard her. “What was what?”

“That,” she spoke up, stepping to me challengingly. “The way you just took off. It was rude. I had to convince them that you had an emergency or something.”

I did. The emergency was letting them live.

I stalked toward her slowly. My entire body was tight with the need to kiss her, and her eyes widened when she realized. Her pulse beat faster, and her tongue came out to moisten her lips. Fuck. My body tightened to the point of pain, and Ihadto kiss her. I had to, or my body would simply splinter apart.

But I didn’t.

I stepped back instead.

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