Page 98 of Bound in Debt

“You’ve made me paranoid. You’re Italian.”

“That isn’t news. I was Italian when you married me.”

Her blush spreads down her neck, and I can see the flush staining her collarbones. She snorts lightly, and damn it, I shouldn’t find a snort sexy. “I don’t know why I decided to cook. Cooking isn’t my focus. I’m a baker at heart.”

“Hence the Paris bakery plan.” She bobs her head. “Is it ready?”

“Should be in a minute.”

“You ready to talk to me about what Liam said?”

It’s impressive how quickly Victoria shuts down, a steel curtain clanging shut behind her eyes. She must have learned that skill from her pain in the ass mom.

“No.”

“I need to know,” I urge gently, raising her hand back to my lips. “So I can protect you.”

“It’s all a blur,” she huffs. “And I was just…scared.”

“I know. I don’t want to downplay it. That’s why I’m going to get that little son of a bitch?—”

“Don’t,” Victoria pleads. “He’s your nephew. And he has a lot of pride. Don’t you Italians live off your egos?”

“We do,” I agree. “However, we protect our own. Our families.”

“I’m not your family.”

“You’re my wife.” I press another chaste kiss above her fingers. “And you made me dinner.”

“I was hungry.”

“So you made us dinner.”

I rub my thumb back and forth over her knuckles, holding her gaze as Victoria scuffs her feet on the floor. “It was no big deal.”

“Says the girl that’s paranoid I’ll hate it.”

“I’m about to order a pizza and eat the whole thing in front of you.”

I smirk at her because she wouldn’t be that cruel. “I’d love to see that.”

“Would you, now?” she challenges, pulling her hand free and popping her fists on her hips. “Because I’m craving some, actually.” She begins to step away, reaching for her phone on the counter.

“You don’t want to do that.”

Victoria’s eyes narrow, daring me to stop her, and my arm wraps around her waist, pulling her flush against me before she can finish dialing.

I said I wouldn’t do this anymore, and now I’m breaking my own rule. But not even Gabriella did shit like this for me, this domestic shit. And on top of that, I haven’t been this attracted to a woman in years.

Haven’t wanted to be.

And now I’m crossing lines right and left, playing at being a husband while ignoring the facts.

What Victoria and I have is a business partnership. Not a marriage.

Yet, I can’t seem to pry the word wife from my brain, not in relation to her. Victoria being my wife means she’s mine, claimed in front of everyone.

And I can do whatever the hell I want with her. To her.