Page 80 of The Viper's Wife

An hourlater I’m polishing off the rest of the carbonara when she waddles into the kitchen dressed in a thick coat, beanie, chunky black boots, and a full face of makeup.

The desire to peel off every layer of her clothing like a Christmas present until all that’s left is her lipstick sparks through me.

“What is it?” she asks when I’ve been staring too long. She runs her fingers through her hair, frowning.

I smirk. “You look like a big black jelly bean.”

“At least I don’t look like an extra forSons of Anarchy.” Despite her deadpan expression, her voice carries a teasing lilt.

“I was going for D.A.R.E. reject.”

Her sliver of a smile feels like a sunbeam as she walks to the front door. “Do they still teach D.A.R.E. in New York? We didn’t have it in my high school.”

“If they do, I’m sure my father would’ve paid my school not to. He doesn’t like propaganda unless it serves him.”

I might as well be back in high school as we walk down the hallway to the elevators, Valeria’s fingers just out of reach.

I’ve never wanted to touch someone’s hand as much as I want to touch hers.

In the elevator, a blonde woman steps on from the floor below ours, talking animatedly on the phone.

I take the chance to wrap my arm around Valeria’s stupid, puffy coat, and even though I can barely feel the shape of her figure under the thing, my cock twitches.

She stares straight ahead as I draw her close and murmur in her ear, “There’s a furniture store a block away. Want to walk?”

“Sure.” Her gaze lingers on mine for a single, charged moment before she looks away, pressing her lips into a tight line.

She thinks she’s fighting this, but she’s already making a dozen tiny concessions that are tipping her into my arms. A week ago, would she have allowed herself to spend the day shopping with me?

She’ll see how good I can be for her, and in a few weeks, we’ll pick up the birth control conversation again.

My phone buzzes, and I don’t bother to hide the screen as I check it.

Alessia

Papà gave us the green light. We’re visiting today. We’ll be in Chicago in a couple of hours. Pick out somewhere nice for dinner.

P.S. I mean something nice by my standards, not by yours

P.P.S. At least three stars, obviously, Nico

“Perfect. You can meet my mom and sister tonight.” The elevator doors open, and the other woman steps off. I take Valeria’s hand.

“We should invite Giorgia,” she says.

Who?

Oh, right.

“Maybe next time. They’re coming down to meet you.”

“They know this is fake, right?”

“No, so we’ll need to pretend otherwise,” I say easily. I tighten my fingers around hers as we walk out onto the street. My steps are light, practically floating on the sidewalk. Valeria, forced to play the part of loving fiancée for an evening? Could be worse. “For safety.”

She pulls her hand from mine and shoves it into her pocket. “Right. Well, forsafety, you should probably be mean to me at dinner.”

“And why would I do something so counter to my nature?”