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“Your brother is thirty-six, Sienna.
“That’s your future husband. Drago Popov. The head of the Serbian crime organization.” “Oh . . . so he’s not a lawyer.”
I turn back toward Sienna DeVille, take another sip of my whiskey, and wait to see what happens with the wolf man.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Sienna DeVille,” he says, and my eyes flare in surprise. “Call your don. Tell him Drago said yes.”
But more importantly, I want the bundle of joy that is Arturo’s sister in my possession as soon as possible.
“And what is your type, sis?” “A big, mean wolf-shifter alpha who hates everyone but me, and who’d make me the queen of his pack,”
Same
She reminds me of a baby chick on LSD.
“Oh, you are so pretty and . . .” Her eyes move down over my outfit. “Why are you wearing a chicken costume, sweetie?”
“No touching my wife,” Drago says in Serbian. His tone is calm, but the hold he has on the man’s wrist tightens. “Make sure everyone in the house knows that.”
“You have nothing to fear while you’re in my home, mila.”
Sienna DeVille is a surprise. And I hate surprises. With one last look at my stunning bride, I head into the en suite on the other side of the room to take a shower. Ten minutes later, I climb into bed and sprawl next to my wife. She’s turned away from me, and hell if I know why, but I don’t like it. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer until her back is plastered to my front. Then, I throw one leg over hers, entangling her body with mine, and close my eyes.
“If I catch any man touching you, even with just the tip of his finger, he’ll lose much more than his hand.” The hold he has on my arm tightens. “This marriage might have been arranged, but from this point forward, the only man allowed to look at you, touch you, or fuck you . . . is me.”
“If any man approaches my wife, take care of him,” I growl and lower my visor. Time to pay a visit to the snitch. “Take care of him?” Jovan asks. “In what way?” I meet his gaze through the tinted shield. “In any way that ends with requiring a spot at a cemetery, Jovan.”
“I need you to find me the most ridiculous-looking tracksuit you have in store.” The sales lady’s eyes widen in surprise. “The most . . . ridiculous?” “Yes. Something no sane woman would buy. Screaming fuchsia. Neon-orange. An idiotic animal pattern in a god-awful color. Or something that glitters. Shoes, as well.”
Yesterday morning, while Sienna was still sleeping, I snapped a quick shot of her in bed with my phone. I’m still not sure why I did that.
The question is, what should I do with my sparkling little Cosa Nostra spy? Should I kill her quickly, or should I make her suffer? As I look at her, I realize one extremely inconvenient thing. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to hurt her. And worse, the mere idea of anyone putting a finger on my wife elicits a murderous rage within me.
“I don’t like fish.” “I know.” Keva is already reaching for her phone. “Sienna was very excited about them, but I’ll tell Jovan to return the fish tank back to the store.” I clench my jaw. “Just leave the damn thing.” “Are you sure? I can have him do it right away.” “No one touches her fish,”
“Your coat doesn’t serve its purpose,” he whispers in Serbian, his voice is husky and glides over me like liquid honey, “because you’re fucking perfect, Sienna. More beautiful than anyone I’ve ever known.”
The turn is so sudden and sharp that I hit the side of my head on the window. “Shit!” Drago barks, and without looking away from the road, wraps his right arm around my shoulders and pulls me toward him. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He kisses my forehead and releases me.
But I’m not spending a night without her in my bed. Not a single night. I lower her onto the bed, then lie down behind her and wrap my arms around her sleeping form. She might be a sneaky, scheming little spy, but she’s my spy.
Contain your sunny attitude, it won't do any good around here.” Drago’s jaw is set in a tight line, and his nostrils are flaring. “Why?” He grabs the back of my chair and leans forward until his cheek brushes mine. “Because I’m the only man who’s going to bathe in your sunshine, Sienna,” he says next to my ear. “No one else.”
I anticipated that she would be an informant for her don. As Keva said, I would have contrived the same if I was in Ajello’s place, so her spying didn’t feel like treachery in the beginning. I wasn’t in love with her then. But I am now. So fucking in love that I couldn’t even handle spending a single night without her in my bed.
I should have sent her back to Cosa Nostra the moment I realized her deception, but I didn’t. I can’t imagine my life without her sunshine anymore.
“Drago?” She blinks at me in confusion as tears slide down her cheeks. I close my eyes for a second, trying to calm down. Whoever dared to say or do anything that made my wife cry will be leaving this house within ten minutes. In a fucking body bag. “What. Happened?” I ask through gritted teeth. “Um . . . I’m helping Keva prepare an onion sauce.”
And then, my sparkling, innocent, ray-of-sunshine wife raises her gun, aiming at the empty milk jug next to me on the counter. An epic boom echoes through the spacious kitchen as the container flies backward and ricochets off the pantry door.
How . . . how can you two be sleeping together when he knows what you’ve been doing?” “Very nicely, actually. The sex is amazing, and Drago likes to cuddle afterward.”
She’s mine, and anyone who dares to take her from me, her brother included, will meet a quick and painful death.
It’s a photo of my wife crouching on the grass in front of Zeus. She’s tying a big red bow around his neck. The other two dogs are sitting on either side of Zeus, wearing the same getup. 11:16 Drago: Tell her to take that crap off my dogs. Right now. 11:18 Keva: Why? They’re cute. 11:18 Drago: Those dogs are trained for fucking combat. They’re not poodles. 11:20 Keva: They don’t seem to mind. But if you do, feel free to tell her yourself. 11:21 Drago: I’m telling you to do it. 11:23 Keva: Because you can’t say “no” to your wife? I curse and put the phone back into my pocket.
“Tara needs to learn to show respect. She doesn’t have to like you, but she will remember that you’re my wife. Especially while she’s under our roof.”
The mere idea of her not existing makes me want to set the whole fucking world on fire. There is no world without her in it. Not for me.
“It’s okay, baby.” I lower my head until our foreheads touch as I slowly slide into her. “I’m in love with you, too.”
“I love every side of you, mila moya. I love you when you laugh, but I also love you when you’re sad. I love you angry—pissed off and determined.” Dipping my head even lower, I growl, “I even fucking adore when you threaten to shoot me.”
“You love sparkly things, just like I do.” “So, why give them to me?” “Because the most sparkling one is already in my possession, and her glow can’t compare to any rock.”
No one touches my family and remains breathing.” His hand travels along my jaw toward my chin and then back to squeeze my nape. “And no one gets to ogle my sparkling wife. Whoever dares, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing they’ll ever see.”
All the pretty rocks on which I built my empire are used to make a person shine on the outside. My Sienna lights up every corner of my soul.
“I love every single thing about you, my glittery little spy.”
“I fell in love with you the moment I saw you in that dreadful gold onesie.”
Yes, my sparkling wife is capable of so much, we’ve just scratched the surface. I can’t wait to spend a lifetime getting to know each of her graces.
“Yellow isn’t my favorite color,” I mumble into her lips as I assault them with vigor. “You are, mila moya.”
“You said you’d like us to crash another svadba,” he says. “So, here we are.” “But . . . but whose svadba is this?” Drago leans forward and places his palm on my cheek. “It’s ours, baby.”
“Jesus fuck. Can we just forget I said anything?” I shake my head. My husband narrows his eyes at me. “I haven’t forgotten a single word you’ve said to me from the moment we met, cara.”
