Page 49 of The Mafia Princess
Once in their bedroom early that morning, Aryanna pulled the blankets back and jumped in, yanking them to her chin. Even with the fire blazing in the fireplace, it was still cold.
“Hurry,” she called out.
He chuckled as he climbed in and pulled her against him.
She laughed when he hissed.
“Jesus, your feet are like ice.”
“See.”
He cuddled her tightly to his chest and put her feet in-between his. “Is that better?”
“Mmmm, yes. Thank you. You’re good at this. You did it once before in the room at Maclean’s. It was only that one night that the temperature was so low … did you ever ask Alastair about that?”
Remington stiffened. “About that.”
The End
