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They slid over me like sun-warmed honey—rich and sensual, with a faint Italian accent that made every nerve ending tingle with pleasure.
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“Yes, I am. Better get used to it, mia cara, because I’m also your future husband.
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But I know there’s a heart in there somewhere, ragazzo mio. Use it and treat your future wife with respect.”
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The sight of a laughing, unguarded Dante was utterly catastrophic for my ovaries.
Dante’s voice and use of the term mia cara should be outlawed. They were too lethal to unleash on an unsuspecting female population.
“Yes, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” She ran the last dirty dish under the water. “It’s not about business.” She was wrong, but that didn’t stop my pulse from spiking with anticipation. “How does he look at me?” Janis smiled. “Like he never wants to look away.”
I’m not trying to make you feel bad, amore mio, but you don’t have to put up with their bullshit.
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Her body fit mine the way the ocean hugged the shore—naturally, effortlessly, perfectly.
Emotion told me to fuck logic and tell it to shove its reason up its ass.

