Page 119 of Runaway in the Mafia
This man. He was a sight for sore eyes. Good enough to devour. He sat lounging in the chair like he wore a suit, but only a towel was tucked around his hips. I’d missed the sharp planes of his face, the glint in his eyes. I’d missed everything that made him mine. I pinched my hand. Was it real or was I dreaming? My eyes drifted to the glass of whiskey next to him and the half-smoked cigar in his hand. It seemed too real to be a dream.
I wanted to ask him when he got here. How he got here. Why? How he was in my hotel room. Why he was only wearing a towel. And all I could come up with was, “Trying out the local delicacies?”
He gave me a lop-sided smile, and in it I saw the heartbreak I’d caused him. All because I had assumed Papa couldn’t handle it.
“Something like it.”
“What’s the verdict?”
“Not bad. But not as sweet as you.”
My head fell back on the door. The softthuddidn’t even resonate in me. My heart skidded off my rib cage. It was beating somewhere else. Too far down to be appropriate.
He frowned. “You planning to hang around the door or you going to come and show me you missed me?”
I smiled. “Did you miss me?”
“Fuck. Yes.”
“It’s only been four days.”
“Forty hours and thirty-two minutes.”
Relief, heavy and warm, seeped into the hollow of my chest.It’s going to be all right.
“Why did you come?”
“Why did you leave?”
“I had to talk to my father.”
“So did I.”
I stepped into the room. “He called you?”
He shrugged. “Might have.”
My heart skipped. Papa had arranged for the same room. “So he called you, like when?”
He gave an irritated sigh. “What’s with all the details?”
“When?” I insisted.
“Just before eight.”
“Sicilian time?”
He nodded.
“So,” I glanced at my watch. “You are here eighteen hours later?”
“I was here in fifteen.”
A quick jerk jump started my heart. “I love you.”
His gaze sparked. He sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Come closer and tell that to me.”
With my heart on a platter, I walked up to him. Ran. He yanked me down on his lap and gripped my face in his hand. His tone was low, warm and rough. “Now tell me that again.”
