His Stolen Bride - MINK Page 0,13
with a temper and a mouth, along with the widest hips I’ve ever—”
I raise my hand to strike him.
His men pull their weapons.
I still. “Speak of her again like that, and I swear on the blood I’ve spilled here tonight that you will be next.”
His graying eyebrows rise. “You would fight for her?”
“I would gladly kill for her.” I lower my hand. “Already have. If you continue to insult my bride, you and your men will join Giuseppe in the vineyard.”
“You have cheek.” He glowers. “And fire. Your temper is as wild as hers.” He shakes his head. “Perhaps this was the best match after all.” Lifting a hand, he orders his men to stand down.
Good, because Lucenzo is standing just behind the study door with a machine gun that could cut them all down in a heartbeat. I’d hate to kill Bella’s father on our wedding night. She deserves better.
Fernando turns toward the library. “I’d like a drink.”
“A toast to your daughter?” I ask and follow.
“Of course. Come. Let’s put this bloody evening behind us and celebrate as God intended on such a glorious occasion.”
When Bella slips her hand into mine, I realize that I would’ve killed him. I would’ve made him pay for ever insulting her. It’s illogical, and it doesn’t fit into my plan to rise in the underworld, but damn if I wouldn’t have ended him. No one insults my bride.
I stop and turn to her as Fernando and his men continue down the hall. I put one hand on her cheek. She doesn’t flinch away. If anything, she leans into my touch.
“Has he said that to you before?” I stroke my thumb along her impossibly soft skin.
For the first time, her eyes give her away. They begin to water, and I see the soft heart that beats inside her strong breast.
She takes a deep breath, and even though her chin trembles, she says, “Every day. Every day he would criticize me and praise my sister.” She adds quickly, “It wasn’t Gianna’s fault. He’s a cruel man, Santino. You can’t trust him. Or any Carrera.”
“Can I trust you?” I lean closer and press my forehead to hers. “Can I trust you, my beautiful bride?” I want to. I want to believe in her so badly. “You’re no longer a Carrera. You’re a Baldoni, and you’re mine.” I kiss her again, because I can’t help myself, because her tears have reached into my black heart and caused it to beat again. But only for her, for the woman who tried to kill me the moment we met.
I sweep my tongue into her mouth and taste her again. She’s so soft, so sweet, far too delicate for a man like me. But I will never give her up. No man will ever touch this perfection, this utter deliciousness that I’ve claimed for my own. I angle her head, deepening the kiss and holding on to her as I lean her back, forcing her to cling to me. She does, her breasts pressing against me as I walk her backwards until she’s against the wall.
“I want you, wife.” I grip her waist and run my hands lower to her sexy-as-fuck hips. “I want you tonight. All of you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Never doubt that. Never.”
“You don’t mean that.” Her big eyes find mine again.
“I mean every word.” I take her hand and press it to my hard cock. “You’ve done this. Only you.”
“Santino.” She whispers my name like a plea to God. It sends a pleasant chill through me as I press her against the wall.
She clutches my jacket as I tongue her again, taking too much too roughly, but I can’t seem to stop. Even though her father is waiting. Even though I may end up dead from a Carrera bullet. At least I’ll go with the taste of her still on my lips.
When I’ve kissed her breathless, I finally pull back. Her eyes are dazed, her cheeks pink, and with any luck, her panties soaked. They’ll be in my mouth shortly. But now, we have business.
“Come, I want to show you off.” I twine our fingers together and lead her down the hall to the library.
She doesn’t protest, doesn’t repeat any of the vile lies her father’s been telling her. Good. I won’t allow it. If she ever doubts her beauty again, I’ll take her over my knee. That brings a smile to my face as we walk into the