"Business and pleasure," Dante said, saying what she clearly wouldn't. "It's not good at all."

Dante examined the bottle of lotion that had taken up residence on his bathroom sink. There was a similar one in the shower. The label told him it was some kind of organic body lotion that was supposed to smell like strawberries or some shit. The pale pink color of the label had a frilly design around the edges and fancy script lettering spelled out the name.

Where did females find this sort of crap? Why couldn't they be like men and wash their hair with the same product they used to clean their bodies? Dante didn't understand. Seemed like a giant waste of space, money, and time to him.

Why Catrina felt the need to stock his bathroom full of her girly nonsense, he wasn't sure. There was another bathroom that wasn't connected to the master bedroom, and since they weren't even sleeping in the same bed together, he couldn't figure out why in the fuck she was putting this stuff in his space.

Being married meant Dante needed to suck it up and share. He didn't share very well, but he was learning. Catrina didn't give him much of a choice, really. Most of the space inside the large condo now had Catrina's things mingled in with his, not that she had a lot to bring. She had practically taken ownership of his kitchen and arguing with her over it only left him with a raging headache. She could cook, thank fucking God, but she was still crazy.

And not in a fun way.

Dante had lived eighteen years with a woman who was anal about her kitchen to the point of insanity before he finally was able to move the hell out-his goddamn mother. He hadn't expected to be living with another one.

Mostly, Catrina and Dante stayed out of one another's way. Sure, they had their moments, but who didn't when two people went from living alone to suddenly having a roommate. That they were married to, of course. So, maybe not entirely the same thing, but close enough. It wasn't like they were fucking. That might make this whole damn thing easier if they were.

Dante's mind drifted back to their wedding night. His slip with Catrina ... their mistake. Well, it might as well have never even happened with the way they both acted around each other. Forgetting that it happened was another thing altogether. Catrina was a passionate woman on a good day. Defiant, a little difficult, argumentative enough to make Dante feel like he was being challenged in a good way, but when he fucked her that night ... Cristo.

In bed, Catrina had made him feel like he owned every fucking inch of her. Sex with her could quickly turn into an addiction Dante didn't need. It would only serve to fuck with his head. Better to leave that sleeping dog lie than bring it out and beat it again.

Dante sighed, eyeing the bottle of lotion with as much inner hatred as he could manage for the tiny ten ounce plastic jar. He wondered if this was a battle he wanted to pick with Catrina or not. Popping the top open, he squeezed the bottle gently and sniffed. It did smell like strawberries. Muted strawberries with a hint of something rich and sweet, like maybe honey.

For a second time, Dante's mind drifted back to their wedding night like he couldn't control his own damn thoughts. He could still taste her on his tongue, feel the way she shivered, and hear her cries. He couldn't remember if she smelled like this lotion or not, but his cock twitched to life all the same.

"What are you doing?"

Dante spun on his heel, nearly dropping the lotion in his hand. He came face to face with an irritated Catrina. Her hands were fisted to her hips as her gaze flicked between the bottle he held and his eyes.

"Looking at this shit in my bathroom," Dante finally answered.

Wasn't it obvious?

"It's lotion, Dante. Surely you've seen it before."

"Sure, but not in my bathroom."

"That's eighty dollars a bottle, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't use it for ... whatever you were thinking of using it for."

Dante blinked down at the pink crap. "Are you serious?"

"What?"

"This is eighty fucking dollars?"

"It's a boutique brand, organic, and imported. Yes, it's costly. So no, I don't want you using it to play with."

"Play with-what are you going on about?" Dante asked, so confused he didn't know what to think.

"Exactly what I just said."

"Do you mean use it to whack off with? Jesus Christ. I wasn't going to use it for anything and especially not that!"

"Mmm," Catrina hummed, sounding like she didn't believe him for a minute.

Dante was still stuck thinking about the cost of the bottle. "It's lotion you rub on your skin, then wash off later, and you pay eighty dollars to do that?"

Catrina stiffened. "S. Is there a point to this condemnation of my personal products?"

"What, Nivea wouldn't work just as well? You have to use something that costs more than most people's shoes? I'm aware I've got money to blow whatever way I want to, and yeah, I've probably spent a lot of it in ways others would consider stupid, but this seems totally ridiculous, Cat. Eighty fucking dollars. Really?"

"Nivea doesn't remind me of the way my sister used to eat her strawberries with warm honey. When you find a cheaper brand that smells the same and doesn't cause my skin to break out into hives, feel free to make me aware."

Dante felt like an idiot and a jerk all rolled into one mess of a human being. He also probably just crossed some kind of invisible line with his new wife, and maybe he should apologize for it. Catrina spoke very little of her family in Italy. In fact, he knew practically nothing but what he had gained from his own background search. That wasn't very much.

"I'm sorry," Dante murmured. "Here, take it. I wasn't doing anything, just wondering why in the hell it was in here in the first place."

Catrina snatched the bottle and put it back where Dante first found it. "It's in here because I live in this condo with you, Dante."

"Fair enough, except this is the attached bathroom for the master bedroom where I sleep and you don't."

"And the other bathroom doesn't have a bathtub, only a standing shower. I prefer to bathe, not shower."

Dante hadn't thought of that. "I'm not used to this at all."

"Living with a woman? Yes, I can tell."

"Cut me some slack," Dante muttered, eyeing the frilly bottle of lotion and wishing it would disappear from his personal space. "It's only been two weeks, Cat."

"No, I don't think I will. This was fun."

Dante's brow furrowed. "Fun?"

"Mmhmm. Watching you squirm, I mean. How often does that happen for you? If I had to guess, not a lot."

He sucked in a deep breath, willing his annoyance to leave. "Can't you bring things in with you and take them when you go?"

"Why? We both live here. It's our home. You might as well get used to me and my things, Dante." Catrina turned to leave the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, "And if you move your stuff to the other bathroom, I figure I should let you know for your own benefit, my tampons are under the sink."

Dante choked on his shock.

How in the fuck did his brothers manage to move seamlessly from living alone to suddenly having a woman in their home?

Those bastards made it look easy. This living together thing sucked.

Grumbling under his breath, Dante followed Catrina out of the bathroom to her own bedroom down at the end of the hall. Dresses were tossed over her bed, separated in piles by style and color.

He quickly learned there were certain things Catrina was overly peculiar about. Cleaning was one, which he didn't mind. Dante didn't live in filth, but he certainly didn't need the twice a week maid he use to have, either. Not with Catrina in the condo. Organization was another one of her quirks, and he was starting to wonder if she had just a slight touch of OCD. So far, he managed to keep her out of his room.

Because hell, it was his damn room.

Finally, Catrina's rabid nature about the kitchen. Dante wouldn't go into that again.

"You still haven't gotten your closet organized, yet?" Dante asked.

Catrina glanced at him over her shoulder, her brow furrowing in the cutest way. "Yes."

"It doesn't look like it."

"I need to pick a dress, bello. I have a process. Mind your business. I don't judge how you pick out your clothes."

Dante barked out a laugh. "Yes, you do! Just yesterday you bitched that my dresser drawers are a mess and that I wear too much black with white. This morning you muttered that I didn't have enough shoes for the size of my wardrobe."

"Well, you do wear too much black with white and you need more shoes. And your dresser drawers are a shame. You should let me fix that."

Dante blew out a puff of air. Yes, living with another person, especially Catrina Marcello, was nothing short of migraine inducing. "No. Absolutely not. It's my room, Cat."

"Your mother would be appalled."

"My mother already is, but because she doesn't live with me anymore, she keeps quiet."

"Yes, but I do live with you, so ..."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"Did you need something?" Dante asked.

"Why?"

"You came and found me in my bathroom. You must have wanted something."

"Oh," Catrina said, smiling brilliantly. "Yes, we're having dinner with your brothers and their wives later. Pick a blue tie. I just have to pick a blue dress I like."

Since when were they having dinner?

Dante didn't bother to ask. He had other things on his mind. "Speaking of a dinner."

"Yes, what about it?"

"No, not tonight. In two weeks. Carl Calabrese and his wife finally agreed to a sit-down with us."

Catrina raised a brow high, as if she were contemplating something. "Can we choose the restaurant?"

"What does that matter?"

She shrugged. "Just because."

"Yes, I suppose we could being the dominating family."

"Okay. And I meant to mention it, but you've been gone a lot this week."

"Mention what?"

"I have to take a trip out to LA in a few weeks for a couple of days. Gaetano and Pao have been there smoothing the details for a few clients and working alongside a new girl out there."

Dante took note of how Catrina refused to look at him as she spoke. "Does it bother you that there's another girl doing your work?"

"Not really. I have other things to attend to right now."

Yeah, like complaining about the state of his drawers and his lack of shoes.

"Why are you flying out, then?" Dante asked.

"Make sure everything is on the up and up. There's also an issue or two with the supply and demand chain that I'd like to personally make sure is handled, you know."

Dante did. Being the boss of his own operation meant he understood her need to control the details.

"I might be able to take a couple of days off to-"

Catrina spun on her heel, facing him. "I've already told you that my work isn't like yours. Where you can fit me in, I can't for you."

"A vacation would be nice," Dante muttered. "That's all I'm saying."

"Well, plan one."

Chapter Nine.

Cat surveyed the five crates as Giovanni stuck a crowbar under the top of one and began to pry. Wood cracked as the nailed down tops gave way to the metal and the man's strength. Crossing her arms, Cat stood back in silence. Usually her men would handle a shipment of product when it came in, but since Gaetano and Pao had left the city, she was left to do this herself.

Giovanni overturned the wood cap on the crate, letting it crash to the floor. He pulled handfuls of dry hay from inside, tossing it aside as well. Finally, after two minutes of pulling out the filler for the shipment, he pulled out a five-inch thick by eight-inch long brick wrapped in cellophane and duct tape.

Digging more, Giovanni shook his head like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Shit, there's got to be at least a couple mil in here."

"Street value triples that," Cat informed. "It's always been a good arrangement for me. It's worked, anyway."

Giovanni regarded her with a contemplative expression as he rested his arm over the side of the shipping crate. "Where did you used to have the shipments sent to?"

"Wherever I was for the month," she replied. "We always managed."

"And the supplier?"

"An old friend."