Tara guessed that she was probably fooling herself into believing she was the only woman for Antonio, but when he looked at her with so much tenderness, she couldn’t help but give into the wishful thinking.
He was so disturbingly loving for a mafia man! But who was she to complain? She reveled in his doting on her, in his little attentions, in his sweet words. She truly did believe she loved him. But could it be? It had not even been a week since her birthday.
Speaking of which, where were her roses for this year? She had grown hell-a used to them.
She told him so in a different manner, “You didn’t give me a birthday present this year.”
Somehow, her words came out slightly coated in reprimand.
He chuckled, “I know, cariña.”
I do know that you know, Mr, she wanted to tell him an
