Her eyes sparked before she blinked away the moment of anticipation. An arrogant, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Yes, she would like this. She would love every aspect of what I was about to give her.

“You don’t have to give me anything,” she murmured, demure behind that false serene smile.

I touched two fingers beneath her chin, lifting her face so that she was locked in my steady stare. “I want to give you things, Nora. I can make you happy. Let me.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, the mask starting to crack. “You really mean that?”

She still didn’t believe me.

I caressed her cheek. “Why would I want my wife to be miserable?” I reasoned. “We can have a good life together, kitten.”

Her lips no longer pursed with irritation when I used the endearment.

My smile widened. She was doing so well.

“What’s the surprise?” she asked, avoiding my more serious assertions about our future.

I let it slide. In the short time I’d known her, I’d gotten the sense that Nora didn’t allow herself to envision her future. She was in survival mode, living day to day and struggling to adjust to her new reality of married life. She’d spent her time exploring the layout of the mansion and the grounds, and she’d met the staff who ran it. She was learning to manage the household, a task I was certain she would perform beautifully.

But that alone wouldn’t fulfill her. I’d found her in the library more than once, cozied up with a romantic novel. My wife would want more from her life than a cold union with a mafia Don, existing solely to keep my home and raise my heir.

I could offer her so much more than that. Not the fantasy of love that she probably secretly dreamed of, but I would provide for her and give her a good life. That was the most anyone could ask for in the real world.

I smiled down at her, my grin a touch wicked. I loved the way she shivered in response.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” I chided.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the length of black cloth. She blinked at it, puzzled. My innocent bride had no idea what I planned for her.

Anticipation coiled my muscles, and my grin sharpened. She swallowed hard, but she tipped her chin back and didn’t retreat so much as an inch. Nora was brave and beautiful, a good match for me. I would quickly tire of a wife who crumpled and wept every time I turned this darker side of myself on her.

I lifted the cloth to her face, and she didn’t flinch when I brushed the satiny material over her soft cheek.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice a touch breathless.