Page 9 of Savage Vows

“Yes, boss.”

Without glancing at me, he gets out, and Chiara instantly relocks the doors.

“I’m your prisoner?” I demand, but I can’t stop looking at Matteo. His stride is confident as he heads inside the building. Even here, in this mundane setting, he moves like he owns the ground beneath his feet.

Chiara turns slightly and looks at me, studying my actions. Her expression is unreadable, and she might as well be a wall. Apparently she’s as loyal as any of my father’s lieutenants, whichis no doubt why she’s on the team that is attempting to take me back to the States.

Once he’s filled up the gas tank, Nash follows Matteo into the store.

When they return, Matteo once more slides in next to me, and Nash drives the car to the side of the building where there are fewer cars.

Matteo tosses a plastic bag onto my lap. “Your new wardrobe, little rebel.”

Since anything is better than only having his jacket around me, I open it up. There’s a pair of pants, more like pajama bottoms than anything. He also got me a sweatshirt and a pair of flip-flops.

I sigh.

“You’ve got two minutes to get changed.”

“Here?” In front of everyone? He has to be kidding.

“You can hardly walk inside barefoot and wrapped in my jacket.”

He’s right, and I hate that.

“Get dressed.” His impatient command hangs in the air between us, heavy with expectation. “Your time is ticking.”

When my father informed me I was going to be marrying Matteo, my response had been an instant and hard no. Even though I hadn’t met him or heard of him, I had no doubt who he was. All my illusions about my father and brothers were shattered when I was eight. I know the truth.

Mafia members are ruthless, lethal weapons of revenge, destruction, and control.

Nothing I’ve seen from Matteo so far has changed my initial reaction. I want nothing to do with him or the life I hate.

“One minute left.”

I wouldn’t put it past him to yank off the jacket that’s wrapped around me. I glance outside. Dusk is starting to fall,and no one is around. I don’t even see a single security CCTV, which is surprising. “Fine.” I sigh. “Avert your eyes.”

His gaze doesn’t waver. “I’ll hold the jacket for your privacy.”

His audacity knows no bounds.

Both Chiara and Nash turn toward the windows, and to his credit, Matteo also looks away as I wiggle into the pants. Without underwear, they feel strange. I remind myself it’s better than being bare.

Because the shirt is a pullover, the jacket falls away. Matteo picks it up and uses it as a privacy shield for me, but he never looks at me.

Why I’m trying to preserve my modesty when he’s already seen every part of me, I don’t know. Maybe because I need to feel as if I’m winning at least some of the battles, if not the war. “I’m done.”

He slips back into his suit coat, and I’m stunned by the way it fits him, snuggling up to his shoulders and hugging his waist. Credit to his tailor.

“Want to go inside?”

His consideration shocks me.

“I’m sure you need the facilities.”

Even though I’d never admit it to him, he’s right.

The flip-flops are joined by a piece of plastic that I can’t snap. “Anyone have something I can use to get these apart?” Stupid question. All of them have a knife of some kind.