Sweet Temptation by Cora Reilly

one of the lounge chairs, but Cassio’s arm shot out, stopping me.
I flinched. Father never hit me. Mother did twice. It wasn’t firsthand
experience that had me wince, but I’d seen men hit women and children. My
uncles, in particular, were of the violent sort. It happened often in our circles.
Cassio frowned and his fingers gently closed around my elbow. I regarded
him curiously. “That flinch was unnecessary, and I don’t want it to happen again,
all right?”
“You don’t want me to react that way or I won’t have reason to react that
way?”
A ghost of a smile crossed Cassio’s face before the stern look was back. He
leaned down so we were at eye level. “You won’t ever have reason to.”
“You sure?” I said it more to annoy him than anything else, but my words
were softened by a tiny smile.
“Absolutely.”
“Good.”
His expression conveyed confusion. Was I that much of an enigma to him?
“Now put the dog down.”
My smile widened. “No.”
He looked incredulous. Releasing my elbow, he cupped my chin between his
thumb and forefinger and brought our faces even closer. This time I didn’t flinch,
and I could see that it pleased him. “I gave you an order. I’m your husband and
my word is law.”
“I know. And if you insist that the dog stays outside, I will too.”
Cassio narrowed his eyes. His breath held the hint of the spicy liquor, and I
felt the crazy urge to taste it on his lips. “Do you really think I believe you’ll
spend the night in the cold for a dog?”
I stared back stubbornly.
He barked out a laugh. “I think you might actually do it. Your parents didn’t
mention your stubborn streak when they bartered you away.”
“They were too eager marrying me off to the cruelest Underboss of the
Famiglia,” I muttered.
“The cruelest Underboss, hmm? That’s what they call me?”
“They did, and other people do too.”
“Why would your parents tell you something like that about your future
husband?”
“To get me in line. My mother worried you might beat me to death if I’m
insolent.”
Something on Cassio’s face shifted, a shadow of the past. “They shouldn’t
have scared you before our wedding.”
“Is it a lie, then?” I whispered. For some reason his mouth appeared even
closer than before.
“There’s no scale to judge someone’s cruelness.”
“That means it’s the truth.” He didn’t contradict me. I couldn’t read the look
on his face. Acting on impulse, I leaned forward and brushed my lips across his