Dante drained his glass and sat back. He was determined to play this slowly, but her continued insistence that he couldn’t possibly know her worked its way under his skin. “I’ve known you plenty.”
“More sex insinuation? Cute.” She rolled her eyes. “We’ve already established that we both faked it. If that’s your basis for pulling this shit, the foundation is crumbling beneath your very feet.”
He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. The plane seats weren’t particularly roomy, so it shrank the distance between them considerably. Her bare knee was a few inches from his hand, and his fingers twitched with the need to touch her skin. Dante liked having all his fingers attached, though, so he resisted the urge. Barely.
Instead, he touched her in a different way. “Don’t pretend you lied about everything.”
“I did.” She said it so confidently, he almost believed it. Almost.
“Liar.” He shook his head. “You didn’t lie about how hard it is being the oldest, the one everyone depends on, the responsible party who has to keep your sisters in line. You didn’t lie about how hard it was being everything to everyone, or how much you appreciated that you didn’t have to do that with me.”
She went still. “Shut the fuck up, Dante.”
“I didn’t lie about everything, either.” He watched her expression closely. Was that interest? Impossible to say, so he pressed onward. “I didn’t lie about my mother, or the complicated feelings I have about her and her passing. I didn’t lie about the shit I liked to do with you, the movie marathons and finding little hole-in-the-wall bars to test out like they were a secret only we shared. I didn’t tell you the full truth, but not everything was fake.”
“Stop it,” she whispered. She looked away as if she couldn’t stand the sight of him. “You have me here. You don’t have to play pretend anymore. It’s cruel.”
He was tempted to continue, to drive the point home that no matter who they pretended to be with each other, the connection between them was real even before they ripped off each other’s masks. And after? He’d never wanted someone the way he wanted Rose. Given enough time, she’d want him, too. “Even if your argument weren’t complete bullshit, the fact remains that I’ll have plenty of time to know you after we’re married.”
“No. Absolutely not.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of her seat. “But I’m feeling gracious, so I’ll offer you a deal. Turn this plane around and return me home, and I’ll pretend this never happened.”
Her audacity had him barking out a laugh. The sound surprised him as much as it seemed to surprise her. He grinned. “The moment I take you back, if your family doesn’t snipe me on the runway, they’ll hunt me to the ends of the earth. Nice try.”
She gave him a surprisingly innocent look. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I bet you don’t.” He was good, but even he knew better than to take his chances against those odds. Back in the day, her uncle Jude MacNamara was one of the best hitmen around. Even thirty years out of the game—officially—he was one to be wary of. Technically, he was a private investigator now, choosing to find people instead of killing them, but Dante highly doubted he’d let his other skills dull. And that was just one member of the family. They all had colorful histories, and they were all deadly in their own ways. The only thing stopping Rose’s family from siccing one of their dogs on Dante was the fact he had Rose with him now.
Besides, if he killed one of her family members, it would be a setback he wasn’t sure his plan could survive. Rose and he might be similar in so many ways, but they differed on that subject. He liked his cousin and barely tolerated the rest of his family. She loved hers with a loyalty that baffled him. They were just people, and people were all motivated by selfish means, which led to them disappointing or betraying you.
He wanted to consider her naive for that belief, but history spoke for itself. The O’Malleys were insular and clannish and might fight amongst themselves on occasion but would join ranks and battle to the death the moment one of theirs was threatened. The greater Romanov family couldn’t say the same, but Dmitri Romanov had adopted at least that part of his wife’s family traits after marrying her. “This ends with my ring on your finger. Make your peace with it now.”
“Dante—”
“We’ll be landing soon.” He leaned back and motioned at her lap. “Buckle in, Rosa.”
For a moment, he thought she might argue, but she finally pulled the belt over her hips, glaring all the while. Neither of them spoke as the plane touched down. A smooth landing, but he expected nothing less from his man. Rose tensed, and he could practically see her flipping through scenarios and trying to decide the best way to turn the tables on him.