Page 115 of The Don's Secret Heir

“There’s therapy. Medication?—”

“No,” I say quickly. I can’t go totherapy. I can’t have anyone knowing my secrets when I’m not even sure if I’m going to hire a hit man to kill my new husband or not.

And medication will just make me even more of a zombie.

No.

I just have to get over this, get past it.

“If you’re not interested in the alternatives, it just takes time,” Charlie says with a shrug. “It’d do you some good to get out of the house.”

Dario perks up. “We could go to dinner.”

“What about Sonny?” I ask, biting my lip. I’m not sure if I’m ready to be out and around other people right now.

“Marie would love to spend some time with him. She’s been missing him.”

I smile. Marie really is a sweet woman. She’s been so good to me and Sonny all this time.

“Alright,” I say quietly, and Dario grins, clapping Charlie on the shoulder.

He pulls a wad of cash out of his back pocket to pay him, and Charlie takes his leave.

“I’ll make reservations for tonight. Wear something nice.”

I nod, giving him a weak smile back. When he leaves to get some work done in his office, I let out a little sigh of relief.

The only place I feel safe is here or in Dario’s arms. I’m worried that when I’m outside, everything will come rushing back.

I already dream about it, about her wild eyes, the syringe getting closer and closer to my skin.

I shudder and try to shake it off. I head to my closet, picking out a red dress that Dario bought me recently.

He just loved the color of it, so he bought it in my size. When I put it on, the lace stretches across my bosom, showing off my cleavage. The neckline plunges nearly to my navel, but there are halter straps to hold me up, thank God.

I’m the type of girl that needs a little coverage.

I take it off, hanging it back up and sliding on a simple sundress to go out to the pool. Dario walks up behind me, his shadow falling over me.

I turn and look up at him.

“You’re messing up my tanning.”

“God forbid,” he drawls, smiling at me. He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top, and he looks absolutely scrumptious.

I think about jumping him right there. It’s basically all I ever think about, these days. When we’re having sex, I don’t think about how much I love him, how conflicted I am.

All I can think about is getting to my peak, and it’s one hell of an escape.

But even I know it’s not healthy to want to have him inside meall the time.

So I try to restrain myself.

“I picked out a restaurant.”

“I picked out a dress.”

He tilts his head. “What color?”