When I take a seat on the couch facing the foyer, Haven sits on the one across from me, which gives her a clear view of the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling windows situated behind me.
She doesn’t lean back but remains perched on the edge, her hands clamped together on her lap. I take in how tense she is and realize I don’t like seeing her so terrified.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I say, hoping it will set her at ease.
Her eyes dart to my face, and a flicker of hope ignites in those light brown irises of hers. “Will you let me go?”
Letting out a sigh, I lean forward and rest my forearms on my thighs. “The wedding is going to happen, Haven. I just want you to know you’ll be safe here, so you’ll stop being scared of me.”
She turns her head and stares at the large foyer. “I’ve known you less than a day, and you shot my cousin twice.” Her gaze swings back to me. “You pointed a gun at my mother’s head and gave me no choice but to come here with you.” An incredulouslook blends with the constant fear on her face. “Then I find out you’re the head of the Italian mafia and you want me to trust that you won’t hurt me?”
“Luciano survived,” I mutter.
“You shot him!” she practically shrieks. Panic flares over her face, and she presses a hand to her chest. “I don’t want anything to do with the mafia. Just let my mother and me return to the States, and you’ll never hear from us again. I promise on my life we won’t tell anyone about you.”
I stare at Haven’s beautiful face, taking in her high cheekbones, full lips, and button nose. Her long, brown hair hangs in waves down her back, the strands looking soft as silk.
My gaze moves lower to her slender neck and glides over the top she’s wearing. The fabric doesn’t do shit to hide her hard nipples, and when she realizes what I’m looking at, she pulls the cardigan she’s wearing tightly around her and turns her head away from me again. Her shoulders curl forward as if she’s trying to make herself a smaller target.
She’s so fucking petite and feminine, it calls to my predatory side, making me want to sink my teeth into her skin while I make her writhe with pleasure beneath me.
I couldn’t explain why I took such an interest in Haven, but as I stare at her, I realize the answer is simple. I want to own her. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than her. She’s a fucking work of art.
Up until now, I’ve poured all my energy into work, but for the first time in my life, I’m going to be selfish. I’m going to force her to marry me, and with time, she’ll warm up to me.
I want Haven Romano because every inch of her calls to me.
A faint red blemish on her jaw draws my attention, and it reminds me of when Mattia backhanded her.
“I apologize for my man hitting you. It will never happen again.”
“I just want to go home,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and making it sound like she’s close to tears.
I struggle to keep my tone soft as I say, “Stop asking me to let you go. That’s not going to happen.” Again, I glance over the open space of the foyer before settling my attention back on her. “The sooner we get to know each other, the better. You can ask me anything.”
Haven refuses to look at me as she mutters, “I seriously don’t want to know what’s your favorite color and whether you enjoy walks on your private beach that’s covered with the bodies of your enemies.” Her jaw clenches. “I don’t want to know anything about you.”
Gesù Cristo, she’s going to make me work my ass off just to get to know her, never mind winning her over.
“What’s your favorite color?” I ask the first question that comes to mind.
She shakes her head before her eyes settle on me. A stubborn expression ghosts over her face, and I expect her to refuse to answer me, but then she replies, “Pink.”
“What do you like to do in your spare time?” I ask another question.
She glances down, rubbing over her forehead with her fingertips, and it makes me realize how slender they are. Her hands are probably half the size of mine.
I wonder if the ring will fit.
I hear her suck in a deep breath. “I’ve already told you I like to read.” Lifting her head again, she looks tired. “Can we not do this? No matter how much we get to know each other, it won't make me trust you. We’re complete opposites and from different worlds.”
“You’ll get used to my world,” I mutter. Suddenly, a thought pops into my mind, and I ask, “Do you speak Italian?”
She lets out a huff. “Very little. When you talk fast, I don’t understand a thing, so you don’t have to worry. I have no idea what you and the other man were speaking about earlier.”
“That’s not why I asked. My housekeeper doesn’t understand English.” I lean back against the couch and stretch my legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “Her name is Sofia. She comes in on Tuesdays and Fridays and only works until three pm.” Haven glances at the scenic view of the ocean, not commenting on what I just said. A few minutes pass before I ask, “Can you cook?”
She lets out a sigh. “I can make the basics, so if you expect me to cook for you, you better be okay with grilled cheese sandwiches.”
