Chapter 9 TAMING THE SHREW

VALERIA

Light pierces through the blinds, tearing the room's comfortable darkness. I roll over, shielding my face-then freeze at the sound of a chuckle. One eye snaps open.

"Holy shit!" I place a hand on my chest. "You scared me to shit."

"Rise and shine, Valeria." Dante is about to drag off the covers when I reach for them, pulling them against my body. His lips twitch into that smug, challenging smile I hate to admit I like.

"You don't get to barge in and wake me up like it's high school," I place a hand on my waist, squaring my shoulders.

"Well, it's my house," he says lazily, tugging harder like I'm a kid fighting over candy.

My grip slips, and I place a second hand on the covers. "I'm your wife, so..."

Dante's eyes widen, his grip loosening slightly, and I take advantage of his surprise and pull again. It falls out of his hands easily, and I mirror his previous expression.

"For someone jobless, you have quite a way with your words," he says slowly, his eyes moving carefully over my face as though he's seeing me for the first time.

"I've been told," I shrug. I lay back on the bed, ready to return to sleep when Dante yanks the covers in one swift motion, hanging them on his shoulder.

"Hey!" I shout. "That's cheating, Mr. Romano!"

"I get that a lot." Dante shrugs, eyes glinting with mischief, that stupid smirk that gets me every time displaying his dimple. I flip him off. He just rolls his eyes. "As much as I'd love to see more of those priceless expressions, I actually came to tell you to prepare for lunch this afternoon. Mr. & Mrs. Smith, my business partners, are hosting. This'll be our first public event as a couple."

"And you didn't care to tell me earlier?" I raise a brow.

"Don't be a smart mouth, Valeria," he says flatly. My lips part to speak, but before I can make out a word, Dante throws the cover, and it lands right on my face.

I throw it off, glaring at him. Green eyes stare back at me, amusement swirling in them, hands tucked into his sweats.

"Really?" I roll my eyes, rising to my feet. At this rate, he'll likely toss me out of the bed. Dante gives me a bored look, the type that says, "So, whatchu gonna do now, princess?"

"You've got three hours, Bellissima," he says, turning away, laid-back steps eating the distance slowly. "Dress code's all white."

"Thanks for the heads up," I say sarcastically, waving at his moving figure.

"You're welcome," Dante hollers back.

"Bully," I mutter under my breath.

"I heard you." With that, the door shuts with a soft click. I stare hard at the door, fighting a half-smile, half-frown. I'll give it to Dante for being an annoying dickhead. The smile wins.

A dickhead that has you smiling, that small voice in my head says.

♠♠♠

I smooth my dress for the umpteenth time and frown. Again.

I'm dressed in an A-cut romper from Chanel with a square neckline that stops just below my collarbone, a small white shoulder bag made from straw, dark shades paired with white peep-toe kitten heels, and gold jewelry. Makeup-light, in that clean-girl way I've finally gotten right thanks to overpriced cosmetics.

I let out a sigh at my reflection. "There's nothing to stress over," I tell myself. "It's just a silly all-white party. If you can make Walmart clothes look chic, then you'll look fab in these designers," I press my hands to my chest, breathing slowly.

"Walk that room like you-"

A knock on the door distracts me from completing my pep talk. The handle turns twice. Good thing I'd already locked it. I roll my eyes, knowing very well it's no other person than Dante. That man doesn't know how to wait.

I march to the door, unlock it, and step aside. His brows lift slowly, eyes darkening as they roam over me with feline precision. There's not a shred of shame on his face, and I feel like a painting under inspection. Dante's gaze lingers at the curve of my hips, intense eyes passionately tracing every line with an abruptness that makes me press my thighs closer-partly from self-consciousness but mostly because of the heat pooling in my stomach.

His gaze returns to mine, and my breath catches in my throat. "You look hot, Bellissima." My cheeks flame with heat, and I roll my eyes.

I clear my throat. "Next time you should knock."

"Why?"

"Because..." Nothing comes to my head immediately. "What if I was naked?" I blurt out my weak defense, and regret hits me immediately. Dante's eyes grow dark, a glazed look in them.

His gaze lingers on my lips before he chuckles darkly. "And?" His voice is low, rough in that I just woke up from bed way that makes my pussy clench. Again. I bite my lip and step back, my heart performing an excited flip in my chest, my breathing uneven.

Dante closes the space in one stride, his arm locking around my waist. "I haven't even touched you, and you're already trembling," he scoffs, twisting a strand of my curls, eyes still locked on mine.

"You're going to ruin my makeup..." I say in a breathless whisper, turning my face away.

Dante grips my chin firmly, tilting it to face him in one move. "Say the word, and I'll back off."

I blink hard, struggling in his grip. My treacherous pussy contracts hard, and my toes curl, slick arousal trickling into my panties. My lips part slightly, and I let out a faint whimper. Fuck! And I thought I was the only one who had a way with my words. Dante lowers his lips to my ear, the heat of his nose skimming over my neck. My hands travel to his chest, gripping his breast pocket, and I shut my eyes.

"Don't make me repeat myself," he warns, stepping back.

"Don't you dare-" the words die in my throat at the sight of a quirked brow, and my lips clamp shut.

"Please, Dante, I want you to touch me." Dante nods his head encouragingly. "Isn't that all?" I snap, frustration straining in my voice.

Dante shakes his head, sliding his tongue over his lower lip.

"God damnit, I'm already horny!" I cry out, but that only makes his brow rise impossibly high. "Fine! I want to feel the heat of your hands on my body. I want you to taste your lips on mine," my voice drops to a desperate plea, "turn me over on that couch and fuck me till I pass out-"

"Time out," Dante says, turning away. "We have a party to attend."

My eyes literally roll out of my socket as I stare at the man in front of me.

"Wait-what?" I move hurriedly to his side, dragging his elbow. "What the fuck was-"

"What was that? Making sure we attend the party on time."

"You literally just turned me on," I hiss, jabbing his chest.

"But if you ask me on a deeper level, I'll say I was taming the shrew," Dante says calmly. Then, opening the door, he offers his hand, a poker-faced expression on his face. "Shall we?"

"Whatever," I mutter angrily, marching past his outstretched hand.

♠♠♠♠

I'm still angry with Dante throughout the ride, so fucking angry that I stick in AirPods the whole time. I don't think he really cared since he was mostly answering calls, and yes, I also sat very far from him just to make things clear.

Too bad I'm stuck holding his hand-part of the performance, apparently.

Dante, ever the socialite, introduces me to everyone. I lose count by the fifth introduction.

"Excuse me for a second," I whisper into Dante's ear, slipping away from his grip.

"Bathroom?" I nod.

"Ask an usher to show you around." I'm about to move when his grip tightens. "Don't get lost. I'll be here waiting."

I follow Dante's instruction, glad to finally pee. The bathroom is empty, save for a stall where someone is flushing.

I quickly pee and start to retouch my makeup when something snaps beside me. Someone snickers beside me.

"Valentine, is it?" My head snaps so fast, my hair whips against my face...

Alex