Page 111

Maria, think of something quick, he encouraged via telepathy, which they obviously didn’t share, because he knew damn well she wasn’t calling her father.

Watching her work the situation, all Dom knew was that Maria Caruso was everything he ever dreamed of—in a wet one or a romantic one—but she was going to be the death of him. He was sure of it. Never in his life had he ever tried to be more respectful to a woman, only for her to want pure, unadulterated sex. The woman was a sex-deprived lioness on the hunt for his dick, and all he wanted was a little ring on her finger to allow him to sleep at night with his morals intact, then wake up to her every day for the rest of his life. What was so wrong with that? Was that shit not romantic? Because it sure as hell felt romantic to him, but clearly not to the only goddamn woman on the planet who didn’t have a romantic bone in her body.

Maria’s version of romance was straight out of a porno, and while that was fucking great for him, it was only great after they were married. He could only turn down a woman like Maria so many times. Soon he was going to be the one that fucking broke.

Pressing his earpiece closer to his ear, the Caruso goon gave a nod and his okay, then opened the door for them.

Taking an internal sigh of relief that Maria’s bluff wasn’t called, Dominic wondered who or what had made him open the door.

His sigh was short-lived, since he only had more problems coming.

Dominic tried to keep his face impassive at the sight of an underground, illegal casino, but that all went to hell at the sight of the lingerie-clad women everywhere, serving the men playing at the tables.

“Maria”—Dominic took a long, hard swallow—“I don’t want to be here.”

“Oh please.” She started dragging him into the dark place that smelled of cigars, booze, and women. “I’m not going to let my father hurt you.”

Snapping his eyes to the floor, his voice snapped along with it. “I’m not worried about your father! I’m worried about you shoving a fucking heel into my neck!”

“Why would I do that?”

It’s a trap. This is a motherfucking, goddamn trap, and he had let Maria walk him right into it—a strip club with his significant other, no less. Only, he wasn’t with just any significant other; he was with Maria fucking shove-a-heel-into-your-neck-but-it’s-okay-’cause-I’m-pretty Caruso.

He didn’t know whether he was supposed to acknowledge the half-naked women, or if he was supposed to pretend they weren’t there. Contemplating which option wouldn’t end in blood, he kept his mouth shut, letting her death grip on his hand lead him to an empty table.

This is a lose-lose situation, boys, he internally spoke to all men out there who might somehow be listening in for advice on what to do in this situation, because he just had to be the first to sail through these rocky waters—especially with a psychotic blonde who would have no problem killing a man in his sleep.

Hand to God, he didn’t want to look at another woman besides her, either clothed or unclothed. Maria was far fucking enough for him to handle … in every department, looks, brains, personality. She ticked all his boxes except for one—the box that said she didn’t want to see him dead, because clearly she did.

Either way, this was a fucking test to see how he’d react around other women, and she could play dumb all she wanted, but Dominic couldn’t help wondering why he couldn’t have fallen in love with someone “normal.”

A normal woman would have tested him with the standard, “Hey, honey, do you think she’s pretty?” Even the most moronic of men could answer that question correctly.

Throwing the man who repeatedly proposed to her into a room full of half-naked women was a new level of crazy. Even the fucking Pope wouldn’t be able to keep from looking. He’d bet the straightest woman alive would be looking! Only a blind man would survive this situation, and Dom wasn’t fucking blind.

He kept his eyes to the ground, blindly being led to the table, and had already felt three sets of breasts touch him in passing.

Sitting at an empty table next to Maria, he saw the dealer on the other side of the table was also wearing something scandalous.

“I’ll take care of the table; you go on break,” a woman told the dealer from behind.

Watching the first dealer leave, the woman behind her came into focu—

Holy Mother of God! I am going to die tonight, aren’t I?

“Hey, buttercup.” A woman with the biggest set of tits looked sweetly at Maria, picking up the deck of cards on the table. She began to shuffle at the speed of light as her eyes went to him. “And who is this you have with you?”