The Don and His Russian Bride

XVII

A strong hand nudged my shoulder. I groaned before rolling over. All I wanted to do right then was to burrow deeper into the covers and sink into the comfiest bed I have ever slept in.

"It's time to wake up."

"No. It's not."

I was still in a groggy state from sleep. When Luciano returned to the room last night after Cesare's threats, he found me already wearing my pajamas and lying in bed. I pretended as though I hadn't overheard parts of his conversation with his uncle and we went to sleep without discussing the game.

"Yes. It is." Just when I thought we were beginning the back and forth of a childish argument, he lowered his voice in the most menacing tone. There was no mistaking the threat in his voice. "Get up. Otherwise, I will make you."

Despite the chills that ran down my spine, I did not spring out of the bed at his command. I did, however, force myself into a sitting position. A couple stray hairs fell in front of my face, but I pushed them back not wanting to even imagine how I looked fresh out of my slumber.

"You never wake me up. Why is this morning different?"

"I'm taking you out to breakfast?"

"What do you mean? Carlotta isn't cooking for us?"

He shook his head. "No. I gave her the morning off so we could go into the city to eat there for once. Just the two of us."

"Aw. Now that would've been romantic if you hadn't shoved me into consciousness a few seconds ago."

"What should I have done instead?"

"You could've kissed me awake like they do in romance novels."

"That would be breaking my promise," He pointed out. Before I could respond, he continued, "Then, you would've slapped me."

I shrugged. "That's true."

At his words, I couldn't stop my mind from wandering to the memory of his lips on mine. We hadn't kissed since the wedding day when the situation had me fighting my attraction to him. Since we were in a better place, a kiss seemed almost too tempting to avoid much longer.

Luciano snapped me out of my trance with his next demand.

"Get dressed."

I pushed down the urge to stick out my tongue at him and lay back down. The mention of food had me realize how hungry I was.

"Only if you ask me nicely."

He tensed his jaw before releasing a deep sigh. Following my instructions, he forced out a polite tone when he asked, "Would you please get dressed so I can treat you to breakfast this morning?"

"Better."

I smiled while throwing my feet over the edge of the bed. Fighting with Luciano often meant no one would win. Him changing his approach to me, even if it had to be pointed out to him, was a great sign of progress. I went to the closet for the first available clothes I could find.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After an awkward wait at the table, the server finally brought us our food. Despite being on better terms, Luciano and I often found ourselves together in silence. We were quiet on the walk through Sicily's narrow streets to find the perfect cafe and every time Luciano tried to start small talk at the table, we quickly fell back into silence.

At least with plates of food, I could focus on something other than the little distance separating Luciano and I. It didn't help that the cup of coffee I had been sipping on was starting to make my nerves on edge.