Page 45 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
“It’s called self-care. You should try it sometime.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything that could be considered self-care,” he says, and there’s something almost wistful in his voice.
“Then now’s the perfect time to start.” I turn in his arms, reaching for his bow tie. “Join me.”
He eyes the bubbling water doubtfully. “I’m not sure I’d get much out of sitting in hot water.”
“Why do you even have a hot tub then?”
“Came with the house.”
I laugh, letting his tie drop to the ground. “So you bought a house with amenities you don’t use? That’s very practical of you.”
“I don’t really have time for leisurely soaks.”
I start working on the buttons of his shirt, my fingers brushing against the warm skin beneath. “So pessimistic. That’s exactly why you need this. You need to learn how to relax.”
I’m teasing, but I mean it too. I’ve seen the tension he carries, the weight of whatever mafia business keeps him on the phone late into the night. He works harder than anyone I know, and for what? Money he already has? Power he’s already achieved?
His shirt falls open, and I push it off his shoulders. When I reach for his belt, he catches my wrists.
“Okay, you’ve convinced me. In fact, if I ever say no to joining you naked anywhere, feel free to shoot me because I’ve clearly lost my mind.”
We strip out of the rest of our clothes and sink into the hot water. The heat immediately soothes my aching muscles, and bubbles surround us like we’re in some kind of champagne dream. Lorenzo settles behind me, pulling me back against his chest, his arms sliding around my waist.
It’s not sexual, even though we’re both naked. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my stomach, my arms, my hips. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against his shoulder.
“I think tonight went well,” I murmur.
“It did. They loved you.”
“I’m not sure I fit in, though.” The words slip out, carrying that familiar ache I’ve lived with most of my life.
His hands are on my hips, gripping them before he shifts us around so we’re facing each other. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
The intensity of his focus should be overwhelming. Instead, it makes something in my chest warm and expand. He sees me. Really sees me. More than that—he wants to see me. He wants to know everything about me, even the ugly parts I usually keep hidden.
I hesitate, because talking about this always makes me feel pathetic. But Lorenzo won’t let it go until I open up, and moreimportantly, I trust him. He’s earned that by being honest about the darkness in his life.
“I already told you a bit about it, but I’ve always been the outsider in my family,” I say finally. “When I was little, I didn’t notice, but by the time I was a teenager, it was obvious. I’m just...different from them. They love me, and I love them, but I started feeling invisible. Unimportant. That’s when I started seeking out thrills and excitement, doing things my family considered reckless. I didn’t really understand what I was doing at first, but over time, I realized I wasn’t satisfied with my life. I needed something more.”
He moves me to the built-in bench and lifts one of my feet, his strong hands working at the ache in my arch. A moan escapes my lips before I can stop it.
“How did it start?” he asks, keeping me talking even as he turns me into putty. “The thrill-seeking?”
“Junior year of high school. My friend Rebecca wanted to go bungee jumping but was too scared to do it alone. I was terrified, but I agreed to go with her.” I smile at the memory. “It was incredible. I’d never felt more alive.”
“But your family disapproved.”
“They worried. Didn’t understand why I’d want to do something so dangerous. It just made the divide between us wider, but I didn’t care anymore because it made me happy. For the first time, I felt like I was being myself instead of trying to fit into their mold.”
His eyes are fixed on my face, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head.
“So you’re worried you won’t fit in here either?”
I shrug, suddenly feeling stupid for bringing it up. “Maybe it’s just me. I mean, I’m still the overlooked one. Look at who I spend my time with. A supermodel and a gorgeous heiress. Who’s going to notice me next to them?”
“Inoticed you.”
