35. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Maximo
Mia’s eyes are riveted to the black album in my hand. I’ve never seen her look so horrified.
She takes a startled step back.
She knows exactly what this is. Good, that saves time.
“Give me that,” she hisses, reaching for it.
I lift it higher. She’d have to come closer and jump, risking a collision with me to get it. But she’s too dignified to do that.
“No.”
Her eyes shoot daggers at me. If stubborn Sicilian women could kill through force of will alone, I’d already be a cautionary tale.
“This clearly doesn’t belong to you.”
I purse my lips as if considering her words, then shake my head.
“That’s debatable.”
She just stares at me.
“How could this possibly be debatable?” She lets out a long, strangled breath. “It has my name written right across the cover.”
“It has, but as my future wife, this belongs to me.”
She blinks a few times as if to make sure she heard me correctly. Then she throws back her head, staring at the ceiling and letting out a long, tortured groan.
Some small part of me is satisfied by her reaction. The rest remains thoroughly irritated.
“Oh God, please give me strength,” she mutters toward the ceiling.
For what? Patience?
Judging by the look she levels at me a second later, she’s asking for the restraint not to commit murder.
“You are completely insane, insufferable, infuriating, and I genuinely don’t know how you’ve survived this long.”
She rubs her temples as though I’m personally responsible for the headache forming behind her eyes. Looks like I’m not the only one suffering.
“How can I make this any clearer?” She flings her hands into the air. “I have no intention, desire, or inclination whatsoever to marry you. None. Zero.”
She points emphatically at the floor between us.
“I would rather go swimming in Lake Michigan in the middle of winter than spend the rest of my life bound to someone as controlling, overbearing, and tyrannical as you.”
Her eyes flash. “Frankly, hypothermia sounds preferable.”
The denial should irritate me. Instead, it sharpens my determination. Because if Mia felt nothing, she wouldn’t react to me with such intensity.
Every time she insists she wants nothing to do with me, she somehow manages to convince me of the opposite.
I sit down in an armchair, setting the album on the small table beside me and placing my hand on top of it. Mia’s eyes follow my movement.
“Who is Lee Roberts?” I ask, my attention fixed on her face. I want to know exactly what that name means to her.
Mia looks genuinely surprised. Then a devious smile spreads across her face. I immediately distrust it.
Holding my gaze, she crosses the room and lowers herself onto the sofa opposite me with infuriating deliberation.
Apparently, we’re settling in for a siege.
“Are you going to give me back my book if I tell you?”
What an absurd question.
“You could ask a hundred more times. The answer isn’t changing.”
She presses her lips together, unimpressed. My gaze drops to her mouth, and unfortunately, I’m immediately reminded of one particular photograph.
Mia lying on her back, her head hanging over the edge of the bed, her long dark hair fanning onto the floor. As if that image wasn’t distracting enough, she had to draw her finger between those plump lips I’m staring at right now while looking directly at the camera.
The memory of that image is enough to make my blood rush south in a frenzy, my cock hardening again.
One day soon, I’ll have her in that position. But she won’t be sucking on her finger.
Christ, I really need to shut down that image and the future it keeps tempting me with. Mia’s sharp tone certainly helps bring me back to the here and now.
“You have no right to keep it,” she declares.
Her protest pours fresh fuel onto my still-simmering irritation.
“And you had no right to parade around half-naked in front of some stranger.”
Her mouth falls open. Then she closes it again, seemingly lost for words. I enjoy the sight. Sadly, it doesn’t last long.
“I can do whatever the hell I want.”
My teeth grind together.
“We covered that only yesterday. Not while you’re in my city and under my protection.”
The sound she makes is somewhere between a groan and a strangled cry. She throws her hands into the air.
“Now answer the question,” I order.
“No.”
Her refusal hits me like gasoline on an open flame.
“No?”
“Your hearing is remarkably good for a man your age,” she taunts.
Her gaze drifts to the album beside me. A faint flush creeps into her cheeks before she quickly looks away again.
“You realize it won’t be hard for me to find out who that man is.”
“I do. But you want to know right now, don’t you?”
I stare at her, willing her to tell me. But she remains silent, holding my gaze without flinching. It feels like minutes pass in this quiet standoff, neither of us willing to give in first.
I shrug and stand, picking up the book and turning to leave. If she isn’t going to tell me who Lee Roberts is, I’ll find out myself.
“Merda, Maximo,” she curses behind me, jumping to her feet too.
“You can’t just take it. It’s mine.”
I don’t answer and continue toward the door.
“Maximo,” she yells this time, sounding furious.
I don’t look back and call over my shoulder, “I’m going to put this book into my safe where no man can accidentally stumble across it.”
“Are you kidding me? This is theft. It’s bad enough you invaded my privacy.”
I laugh. It comes out as a short, humorless sound.
“Privacy?” I turn to face her, my anger resurfacing.
“Yes, privacy.”
“There’s no privacy in our world. You and I are always going to be under the microscope.”
Her cheeks turn even redder than before.
Is it rage? Embarrassment? I can’t tell.
“You still had no right to look through it!”
Somehow we’re standing nose to nose again, both fuming and refusing to back down. The room suddenly feels much smaller than it did five minutes ago.
“You hired a man to photograph you wearing next to nothing.”
“I did not hire Lee Roberts.”
“Let me guess, he did it for free?” I snarl.
“Correct, no money was exchanged. I had a deal with Lee.”
Now she’s taunting me. I know she is. I loosen my tie further. It’s far too tight around my neck.
“What was that deal?” I grit out through clenched teeth.
And there it is, her devilish smile. “That’s none of your business.”
“Everything about you is my business.”
How many more times do I have to explain this to her?
“I can’t have semi-nude pictures of you out there for anyone to see.” I wave the envelope in front of her eyes. “And you can’t spend hours alone with a man while you’re dressed like that.”
Outrage, disbelief, and mortification chase each other across her face. Then her expression hardens and all three disappear beneath anger.
“You do not get to decide that.”
“I do.”
“You are not my husband.”
The words hit harder than they should, and before I can respond, she pokes a finger into my chest.
“And don’t you dare say, ‘Not yet’.”
I press my lips together, closing my eyes briefly to contain the fury this woman unleashes in me. Every instinct I possess is demanding that I reassert control of this conversation. Of her.
Neither impulse is likely to end well.
When I open my eyes again, Mia is still glaring at me, every bit as furious as I am.
If I don’t leave now, I’ll put her over my knee and give her a damn good spanking for challenging me. And today is not the day to test where that impulse leads.
Clutching the album beneath my arm, I turn and walk out.