"Christian proposed to me earlier today, and I agreed. In fact…" I move closer to him until the tips of my Ferragamos brush his shoes. "He made me an offer that I couldn't refuse." I say the last few words in a deep voice.
"What was that?" Christian scowls.
"That," I tip up my chin, "was my best Godfather impression. Do you like it?"
His gaze intensifies. "I like everything about you, Flower." He lowers his voice to a hush, and my insides tremble.
"Oh my god," Karma breathes, "I knew it! I knew there was something between the two of you."
He releases my wrist, only to wrap his arm around my waist and draw me close. "Oh, there’s something between us all right," he drawls, "something I can no longer deny."
"I’m so happy that we no longer have to hide our feelings for each other." I force my lips to curve. "He’s positively head over heels in love with me. Isn’t that right, honey-pie?"
He blinks.
Hope you like the nickname, asshole! "In fact, when he proposed, I couldn’t believe it, but you know what he told me?"
"What?" Karma cries. "Tell me, please."
"That he couldn’t live a minute more without me agreeing to become his wife. That he loves me so much he had to make sure to claim me before anyone else finds me."
His features wear a look of surprise, then his lips kick up in a smile. "You forgot the part where you insisted that we get married right away. "In fact, the ceremony is set for three days from now."
What? My gaze widens.
His lips curl in a smirk. "You couldn’t wait to become mine, could you now, honey-pie?"
I try to pull away, but his arm holds me in place. "And you wanted me to announce it today to make sure everyone could make it to the wedding, right?"
I bring down the heel of my six-inch stiletto on his boot; he doesn’t even wince.
His grip turns almost punishing. "Isn’t that right, darling?"
I bare my teeth. "One-hundred percent, darling."
"Wait, did I hear that correctly?" Nonna’s voice interrupts my thoughts. "Christiano, you’re getting married, and this is the first I am hearing of it?"
Christian pales a little, and I stare. What the hell? Apparently, his grandmother really is a terror.
He loosens his hold on me. I step back, and he applies pressure on my back so I turn to face his nonna.
The older woman peers into Christian’s face. "Well?" She scowls. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"You are hearing about this now because we only decided to get married this morning."
"Hmph." She firms her lips. "And you are getting married in three days?"
He nods.
"In church?"
He nods.
"It takes a lot longer than that to arrange a church wedding in Italy," I hiss at him under my breath.
He stares at me. I stiffen. Of course, he's a Mafioso, so he probably has special dispensation on some trumped-up basis or another.
Christian presses his palm into the small of my back. The heat from his touch sinks through the fabric of my dress and into my skin. My heart begins to race. My pulse thuds at my temples. My God, if just his touch arouses me to this extent, how am I going to spend the next thirty days in close quarters with him and not allow myself to give into this attraction between us?