Page 13 of Groom Gamble

I still don’t understand why sometimes it’s called the London Maths Club, since they clearly don’t do any mathematics.

He tilts his head in an action that doesn’t mean yes or no. “There are social events for the wives too. Many of the most-influential mafia bosses are married, and unenthusiastic about bachelors.”

“You don’t fit in?” My chest aches at that. He might be rich and powerful and I’m nothing by comparison, but this feeling I know about. Being on the outside of the popular crowd.

“They’re more welcoming to members who are married.”

“So you want a marriage of convenience to fool them that you’re the same?”

He makes the same tilt of the head, which I take to mean, yes.

He needs me.

How can I refuse? All the same reasons not to do this remain: I’m for sure going to be hurt beyond repair by being his wife, having sex with him to make babies, and never ever be able to get over mycrush. But I think he’d be a good father. I’d have the children I so want, he’d have a token wife to smooth things with the London Mafia Syndicate.

Only my stupid feelings stand in the way of a good solution.

“Do you think you could fake some affection for me?” he asks huskily.

My mouth goes dry as I bore my gaze into the back of his head.

Fake? No.

But I could open up a few of the internal doors I keep locked, and reveal a small part of how far gone I am for my boss. Would he pretend to love me in return?

My little heart patters at the idea. Maybe we wouldn’t let on to the London Mafia Syndicate that it was a marriage of convenience? Foolishly, I’d like that. Could we go to every meeting together? Three visits a day, preferably, so he always had to pretend.

“I think I could manage.”

“Good girl.” If I thought he’d sound relieved, or happy, I was mistaken. But good girl? I cover my mouth to suppress a gasp. Good girl. That’s borderline pornographic. Is it even legal?

My clit throbs.

“Mr Streatham.”

He nods.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” I didn’t want to reveal this secret, especially not to my boss. But he’s telling me the truth, confessing he’s left out of the London Mafia Syndicate. And honesty is the basis of a good relationship, right?

So before he can turn, I tumble the words out.

“I’m a virgin.”

6

DEX

I swing around, my heart making a bid for freedom via my mouth and ribcage simultaneously.

She cowers, as though I might be angry with her for saving her cherry for me. Nothing could be further from the truth. My sweet Miss Berry, giving me her first bite.

“You’ve never had sex.” I feel I need to clarify this, because it’s not every Tuesday afternoon that all your dreams come true. “Were you waiting for marriage?”

I thought I was the old-fashioned one, but was she keeping her first time for her husband to breach her on her wedding night?

“No, not really. I’m shy,” she whispers. “I just didn’t find the right person.”

She has now, or if she hasn’t that’s bad luck. Iwilltake her virginity.