The Don's Baby: A Bad Boy Romance Read Free Page B

fuck , she was beautiful. That was a simple fact. It didn’t matter if I thought so or not because it was indisputable as the truth. She was gorgeous.
     
    Her hair was the same color as dark chocolate, long down her back like a woman’s hair should be. Her skin was olive and colored beautifully by the sun. Flawless, besides a light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose, which were easily covered with makeup or could be eliminated by a visit to the dermatologist. They were charming though. She could keep them. She was sharp and striking while remaining feminine. I would bet money too that that was her original face. Straight nose with a delicate upturned tip, rose-colored full lips, green eyes which stood out against her dark features. Who could hold a candle? Who could compete?
     
    Her body was the icing on the cake. Her curves swelled and dipped perfectly. Amazing tits, enough for a generous handful. Spare waist and beautifully rounded hips and rear. Her legs were long, but she wasn’t too tall. She was tall enough that her head came up to my chin when she wore heels. She had to look up at me when she wanted to speak to me.
     
    She was by far the most beautiful woman at the table, even if she was not really at the table but in the kitchen. Never in my life had I had to pay so much money to get broken dishes replaced as I had since Sophia moved in. I wasn’t keeping count so she could pay me back, but let’s just say, I wouldn’t be letting her near the china tea set my mother gave us as a wedding present.
     
    She had been so angry when she heard the news. Her eyes had flashed, and she had talked to her father in a way that would have gotten her put over one knee if she was still a child. She had more or less come around by the time it was our wedding day. She had looked nervous, and she had cried during the vows. I knew it was because marrying me was the last thing she wanted to do, but our guests ate it up. Marcelo’s blushing bride . She is so innocent, look how she cried when he put the ring on her finger.
     
    As a wife, she was sort of a disappointment. It wasn’t even that I didn’t like her; it was that she didn’t seem to be trying. We were like roommates. I could understand that we had just met and maybe the whole arrangement was a lot for her to adjust to in a short time, but the least she could do was try and act like she wanted to make it work. How was I supposed to if it was one-sided?
     
    I mean, she was married to me . I had certain domestic expectations of her, but she wasn’t living in some shack in the middle of nowhere. All she had to do was say the word and she could have anything she wanted. We lived on East Seventy-fourth Street, we weren’t exactly slumming it. I thought she would have at least began some level of renovation on the townhouse or began filling it with art and furnishings she bought by way of retail therapy. She had done nothing of the sort, and it became obvious after a while that she wasn’t charmed by gift boxes and expensive price tags.
     
    What did that mean? That I actually had to try ?
     
    At least she hadn’t tried to make excuses on the wedding night. It would have been too much if she had tried to refuse me on our wedding night. At least I could tell people I was married and it was true. I could understand that she was upset, but she had to get with the program. She was someone’s wife now. My wife. Forces more powerful than both of us had brought us together, and that was the way that it had to be. That was the way that it was going to be. I hadn’t envisioned myself getting married before I turned thirty. She and I both found out about the arrangement on the same day.
     
    How was it that the most civil I had ever seen our fathers act towards each other was when they were arranging their children’s marriage? It had been my dad’s idea. Sophia was Dandolo’s only child, so he must have been desperate to agree to the marriage. It was a peace