Page 66 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption-

He leaves, taking the computer with him. I glare at the box, and then I walk into the bathroom, close the door, and pin up my hair so it doesn’t get wet when I shower. He might not care, but… But it’s the first time I’ve done something so frivolous for me.

It feels… nice.

“Not for you, idiot,” I remind myself. “He ordered you to. Your jailer. The monster.”

After my shower, I dry off and wrap myself in a soft velour robe. The makeup we bought is in brighter shades than I’ve ever worn, and I do my best to apply the eyeliner, shadow, and mascara. And then come the red lips.

With a sigh, I slump over to the bed and yank off the top of the box.

There’s another package on top of the tissue paper. When I open it, I stare at the underwear, my jaw damn near hitting the mattress. Silver satin panties so thin and low they barely cover my pussy. The bra’s basically wired to thrill a man and is made of the same silver satin. It doesn’t cover my nipples, though, it just pushes up my breasts.

Finally, there are a pair of nude stockings. I put them on.

Next, I look at the dress.

Silver gray, and when I put it on, I want to cry.

If I could pick a fancy dress, it would be this. None of the more fitted ones I had to buy or the cutting-edge things Lucie talked me into would ever be my choice. But this…

Did Torin pick it?

I stare at myself in the mirror.

The dress plunges down to show the swell of my breasts. The sleeves are long and billowy, tight at the wrists. And it fits perfectly. The skirt ends above theknee, swirling when I move.

It’s pretty, sensual, a little sexy.

“You’ll do.”

Torin’s careless words make me gasp and spin. And I almost fall to the bed because my legs lose their ability to hold me up for that split second.

If I thought he looked good the other night when we got married, now he looks even better. Slate-gray three-piece suit and black tie.

The elegant gangster.

The charming devil.

His eyes glitter as they move over me, and though his words are tepid, this look is not.

I lift a shaking hand to my hair.

“Leave it. I like it. A little mess suits you. And I can still see my bite mark.”

My eyes narrow and I move to pull the pins out of my hair.

“I said leave it.”

This time I heed his warning.

And the fucker smiles. It’s both filthy hot and bloodlessly cold. “Wear your wedding shoes.”

For some reason, I avert my eyes, dropping them to the floor as I go to the closet and pull them out, pushing my feet into the bright-red pumps. When I turn back, he has the little crystal bag Lucie chose.

He holds out his arm.

I want to ignore it. I do.

The last thing I want is to touch him and yet, I’m practically dying to lay hands on him again.