Page 112 of Coerced Kiss

“Yes,” Saverio says.

Richard grins. “You’ll fly through it.” He pats Saverio’s shoulder. “If you ignore the video introduction.”

Tersia jabs him hard enough with an elbow in the ribs to make him grunt. “You’ll scare them off.” Turning to us, she says with a roll of her eyes, “It’s his second time. Richard’s oldest is ten. I’m the second wife. This is my first time too.”

“Whereabout are you guys from?” Richard asks.

Saverio’s smile is stilted. “Park Slope.”

“So are we,” Tersia says, clapping her hands and shooting her husband an excited look. “Hey.” She pokes me. “We should sit together. We can meet up and come in one car in the future.”

Saverio’s tone is dry. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

“We better get inside,” Tersia says, checking the time on her Rolex. “The class is about to start.”

I shoot Saverio a frown when he pulls me to my feet.

Tersia and Richard go ahead of us.

When they’re out of earshot, I whisper, “You brought me here without asking me first. The least you can do is try to be nice.”

He stops and frames my face between his palms. The playfulness of earlier is gone. In its place is that serious expression that makes him look both dangerous and hot. “This, baby girl,isme being nice.”

I swallow. I know exactly just how bad he can be.

“I didn’t ask you because I booked the best preparation course in the state of New York,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d disapprove.”

I glance at the people who file past us, embarrassed that they’re witnessing our quiet dispute, but they’re absorbed in their own conversations. “It’s not that I disapprove.”

He searches my eyes. “Then what is it?”

“You know I can’t afford this, and you know how I feel about that.”

“Anya.” He threads his fingers through my hair and cups the back of my head. “I already made myself clear. What part of the fact that you’re my responsibility don’t you understand?”

“It feels wrong.”

“Wrong?” He chuckles. “Explain that to me.”

“Like I’m taking advantage.”

The look in those icy blue pools turns even more earnest. “Are you? Is that what happened this morning?”

“Is that what happened last night?”

Letting me go, he takes a step back. “What happened, happened. We’re not going to analyze or overthink it. You’re under my protection now, and I don’t take my responsibilitieslightly. I want the best for you, and I can afford to pay for the best. That’s all there is to it. I don’t expect your gratitude or anything in return. If I give someone something, I don’t see it as an exploitation on their side. I take care of what’s mine, and I happen to enjoy taking care of you. Does that clear things up for you?”

Not nearly. I don’t understand his motives. I get why he’s so invested in my health. He needs me alive. He needs me in case the murder investigation produces evidence that may blow up in his face.

But why go to such extreme lengths?

Because booking the most exclusive prenatal class for his girlfriend is what the world expects Saverio to do. Because that’s just who he is.

And there’s my answer.

It’s not about me.

It’s about appearances.