He shrugged.
“That’s more than most people’s house payment,” I added.
“How do you feel in it, Andi?”
I thought about it for a minute. “It’s not necessarily how I feel. I mean, I feel great, but when I see the way you look at me… I feel invincible.”
“Exactly.” Sergio brought his mouth to mine, kissing me softly then stepping away. “I know not everyone can afford to shop like this. I can. So don’t think about the price tag. What I want you to think about is how you feel. You spend all day and all night in clothes. Well, all night we’re working on. But you get my point. They should better your day. They should complement your skin, from the color to the lush feel. Clothes make you… you. It’s important to me.” He put his hands on his hips and hung his head. “It’s important that you feel like the best you that you can possibly be.”
“Careful, Italy. Your romance is showing.”
I could have sworn I saw a blush tinge his cheeks before he coughed and looked away. “Yeah, well.” He burst out laughing. “I have nothing. Shit.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Sorry, forgive my psychotic break, I just… in any other situation I’d try to defend myself, or maybe just ignore that you called me romantic.”
“So what gives?”
His eyes met mine. “You make me want to be.”
I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “What else do I make you want to do?”
“You want a list?”
I opened my mouth to scream yes when a knock sounded at the door.
“Uh, sir, I have those items you asked for.”
I crooked an eyebrow in Sergio’s direction.
In two strides, he was at the door; he opened it, pulled the items from the lady, and said, “Thanks. That will be all.”
Dismissed.
Any other guy would have sounded like a complete ass, but coming from Sergio, it almost seemed like he’d really meant it as a compliment: Thanks for helping, but your services aren’t needed because I can probably do your job better than you do your job.
His confidence was one of the sexiest things about him.
“Andi…” Sergio held up two very small pieces of lingerie. “…these are for you.”
My mouth dropped open. “Isn’t underwear supposed to cover?”
His smile was heated. “It covers… enough.”
“Enough,” I repeated. “Fine, but you can’t be in here while I’m trying it on.”
“I’m sorry. Are we negotiating now?”
“Out.” I shooed him toward the door. “I’ll give you a play by play.”
It took every ounce of strength I had to push him out the door, and even then, he complained the entire way. But hey, technically, we were still on our honeymoon, and I wanted some things to still be a surprise.
“Ready yet?” Sergio called.
“Three seconds, Italy. It’s been three seconds.”
A few more seconds went by. “And now it’s been ten. You ready yet?”
I rolled my eyes and made quick work about getting out of my dress so my slave driver wouldn’t start pounding down the door.
On second thought…
I smiled as an evil plan took root…
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Sergio
I WAITED IMPATIENTLY OUTSIDE THE DRESSING ROOM. My phone hadn’t stopped going off since we’d started shopping, and for once I didn’t give a rat’s ass what any of the guys needed.
I didn’t want to be interrupted. I could hear Andi undressing; it was painfully arousing, so much so that I finally pulled out my phone, desperate for a distraction that wouldn’t have me breaking down the door and crossing number twelve off that damn list, landing us both in prison for indecent exposure.
Five messages were from Phoenix with strict instructions to yet again check the black folder. Somehow he’d gone from a psychopath with suicidal tendencies to a nagging father figure who wouldn’t leave me the hell alone.
I sent him an emoji of a gun back.
He sent me a picture of his middle finger in return.
With a sigh, I clicked through the rest of the messages and paused when I saw one that needed attention.
Nixon: Hand sent out, but two of my men were injured while someone tried to infiltrate the house again.
Me: Did they take anything?
Nixon: No. And this time they just left once they knew nobody was home.
Me: Well that’s reassuring.
Nixon: Why the hell are you at Neiman Marcus?
Me: Why the hell do you care? And turn off the damn Find a Friend. It’s annoying as hell.
Nixon: Phoenix told me to tell you to read the black folder.
“Ouch!” Andi yelped.
Me: Phoenix can kiss my ass.
I quickly shoved my phone back in my pocket and whistled out a breath of air. “Doing okay in there?”
“Yeah.” She was seriously out of breath. Was trying on lingerie an Olympic sport or something? Maybe she wasn’t feeling well. My gut clenched.
“It’s just that — oh, wow.”
“Wow?”
“Italy…” She let out a dark chuckle. “My boobs look amazing in this.”
I sighed and gripped the handle to the door. “I bet.”
“And my ass?” she added, “looks… firm. Do you think it’s firm?”
I banged my head against the door and let out a curse. Whose stupid idea was this? Oh, right. Mine. “Your ass is… firm.”