The Mafia King's Temporary Wife
“Why do you ask? Would you let me out of this deal if I did?”
“No,” he says firmly.
“Then I guess it doesn’t matter,” I say, trying to sound unaffected.
Adrian holds my hand now, raising it closer to his lips. The corner of his mouth tilts up into the faintest smile.
“I looked you up online yesterday,” he says, his deep voice steady. My fingers hover just inches from his lips. “Who knew such a delicate hand could create such dark, haunting art?”
I smile, keeping it small, even though his words and touch make my heart race. “You don’t like it?”