Page 47 of Runaway in the Mafia
“You should definitely wear these.”
“What?” My breath heaved.
He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. He rolled my dress up and hooked his finger onto the hot pink satin underneath it. Both our gazes dropped. How had we got to this? “I insist.” His voice rasped. Scraped against my skin like sand.
“No.” I winced. “I mean. Yes.”
“So you are obeying me?”
“No.” I bristled. “I’m not.”
“So you’re going to take them off?” His fingers traced the path, from hip to ass, his palm a sheet of heat on my skin.
“Ugh.” I couldn’t think. The sanity in me was in shambles. I was confused. Hot. Bothered. There was an actual pulse beating where it shouldn’t. “I. Am. Not. Going. To—”
“Such an obedient girl.” His tone was saucy. It made me want to rip them off and chuck them in his face. To think I thought I was smarter. Instead, I acted like the village idiot. I slipped my hands inside my dress and pulled off the satin. It came away clenched in my hand, attached with a rush of aggravation. The mood exploded. The heat in the room sky rocketed. The air was electric. It sizzled and burned like a hot pan on fire.
Shit.
His gaze sparked. There was no more green or hazel in his eyes, only black.
He hadn’t thought I’d go through with it.I hadn’t thought I’d do it.
There was a line. One I’d drawn in my mind. It was thick, black, and robust. It should have kept me behind. Safe. Away from him. I wasn’t going to cross it. It shook. Seeped an inch at a time. The black sinking away to translucent.What have I done?
My hand squeezed around the evidence. It was light and silky. Betrayed the dead weight within it. His forearms strained. A fist gripped my hip. Panic rattled in my chest. Frustration dripped into my blood. He must have felt it because his hand released me. But when I pushed to shove past him, his hand banded around my palm. My breath hitched. It burned hot. A finger at a time, he unclasped it and the pink fell. Right into his palm.
I was almost out the door when his throaty rasp caught my back. “Such a bad girl.”
I shouldn’t have turned around. I really shouldn’t have. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have had the sight of him inhaling pink satin burned into my retinas.
Maa was wrong. I could stand up to a man. But when a man was a predator like him… I had never stood a chance.
CHAPTER TWENTY
AHANA
“No.”
Ada startled at my outburst. Her hands trembled when she put the espresso down. “Oh, of course not.” Her voice was full of trepidation when she asked, “Did Vitale do anything he shouldn’t have?”
Yes! He made me all needy. I shouldn’t want to want him.
But I kept that part of me hidden from her. The dark, needy, selfish part. “No. Of course not.” There was a calmness in my tone that belied the fire he’d ignited in me. I forced a smile through shaky lips. “I’ll take it.”
I leaned in to grab the cup. She pulled it away, just out of reach. Her brow furrowed in deep thought. “He’s different with you.” She almost muttered to herself.
“What do you mean?”
She didn’t answer. Only shook her head. “I’ll switch off the stove and take it to him.” Her glance shifted out the window, where Lia was fast asleep on one of the lounge chairs. “A made man as a son, and my daughters… one’s too far from home.My eldest won’t speak to me, and my youngest is lazy. I did something wrong.” She sighed. “That girl needs to get up.”
“Nah. I can take it.”Should have just stayed in my room.The mood was explosive today. I’d lit the fuse in the morning, and the wick was short and the dynamite too close. The burn had reached into my veins. My brain was short-wired, and I was on edge. His gaze had burned through my dress to where my thong should have been just an hour ago when he’d passed me and Lia in the hallway. No doubt he had laser eyes. He knew I wouldn’t put on another pair just to let him get to victory. A victory for which I was letting go of my sanity. He had clearly taken my brain along with my satin.
I slipped off the chair. “Just to the office, right?” I asked nonchalantly as I released the hot espresso from her protective fingers.
“No.” Her tone was tight. “The library. He doesn’t work there ever since he caught—” she winced. “Beddra Matri, the sauce is burning.” She turned around to stir wildly.
No, it isn’t.
