Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“Why thank you,” he replied acerbically.
“Great,” said Dominic, “you guys can drop me off at the tattoo studio first. I’m getting the finishing touches done to my tattoo.”
Jaime went to ask him about it, but Dante’s words distracted her.
“I have a condition, though.”
“A condition to what?” she asked, both suspicious and confused.
“To coming with you shopping instead of making your day miserable by hounding you. I get to buy you something.”
That would have excited her if he hadn’t said it like a threat. “Define ‘something.’” His impish smile surfaced. “You’ll see.”
Five hours later, she saw. And gawked. When she could finally speak, she said, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“You can’t buy me this.”
He folded his arms across his chest—a gesture that said this was nonnegotiable. He’d anticipated resistance, because he knew Jaime well enough to know that she wasn’t the slightest bit materialistic. “Yes, I can. You’re mine, I protect what’s mine, and you’re going to accept this. The end.”
“Dante, I’m serious.”
“Baby, so am I.”
“I thought you meant chocolates or maybe a pair of shoes or something. Not a brand-new top-of-the-line car!” His grin was totally unapologetic, which peeved her even more. “Dante, I’m not letting you spend that much money on me.”
He advanced on her. “Hey, I’ll spend my money on you if I want to, when I want to.” She made a slashing motion with her hands. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but it’s too much.”
“No, no more arguing. I had the patience of a damn saint today. I let you drag me around the mall, and I hardly moaned at all.”
He was right. Call her mean, but Jaime had quite enjoyed dragging him, Tao, and Ryan from store to store. Whenever Dante tried rushing her, she had slowed her pace until he finally received the message and stopped pestering her.
While Ryan often manned the entrance, Dante would personally escort her around every store while Tao escorted Shaya. It had been hilarious watching Dante’s huge frame try to squeeze through racks of clothes. It hadn’t been hilarious when the female assistants openly stared at him or flirted.
Several times Jaime had shot snarls at the women or placed her hand on his arm possessively, warning them away. She literally hadn’t been able to stop herself from doing it.
He naturally found that funny. The only thing that had saved him from getting a whack over the head was that he hadn’t once—no, not even once—responded to the ogles or the flirting. He had been solely focused on Jaime, despite most of his oglers being model material. That had scored him some serious bonus points.
He lost some of said points when he tried telling her what she could and couldn’t wear.
Basically he wanted every inch of her body covered at all times. She had just given him an indulgent,
“sure thing” smile and then bought what she wanted anyway. He soon gave up.
She hadn’t been able to resist asking questions like, “Do these jeans make my ass look big?” and “Does this skirt make my calves look fat?”
Sheer and utter horror had flashed across his face every time, as if he’d sensed that there might not be a right answer. Each time, however, he would say, “No, baby, you look beautiful, you should definitely buy that,” which of course could be translated into “Please get me out of this fucking store.” Just when she’d thought he’d forgotten about his “condition,” he’d informed her that they had one more place to go before collecting Dominic at the tattoo studio. She hadn’t for one second suspected that he meant a car dealership. Why would she? Normal people didn’t go and spend more than twenty thousand dollars on a girl they had only been seeing for, like, two minutes.
Okay, she could admit to herself that she seriously liked the silver Chevy Captiva, but damn it, that wasn’t the point. She shook her head at him. “Dante—”
He fisted a hand in her hair. “It’s important to me that you’re safe, and as much as I’d rather chauffeur you everywhere, my job is too demanding for that. Plus, I know that would make you feel suffocated, and then you’d get pissed at me all the time. Wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
He released her hair and smoothed it out. “I’m not good at relationships, baby. Most likely because I haven’t been in one since I was eighteen years old. The ones before Laurie weren’t serious.
I get that I’m going to mess up often, especially when I get all controlling and overprotective. This car is a compromise—I get to know that you’re not driving that tin can that you’ve been insisting we get fixed, and you get to have your independence. Okay, you get to have some of it. For it to be a compromise, you have to meet me halfway here.”