Page 221 of Rosetti Family New York
His laugh is rich and low.
“Kinky, Carter.”
My cheeks burn.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then I’ll have to think of something else.”
We’re halfway down the hall. It’s cold, quiet. I try to picture myself here, waking up to him every day, trying to pretend it doesn’t scare the shit out of me. I never thought I’d let anyone get this close. But he isn’t anyone. He’s this man who makes my head spin and my heart race, who makes me feel like I can take on the world. He’s danger and comfort, madness and calm.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant. “Hold me hostage until the Red Hooks back off?”
He gives me a sideways glance, eyes dark.
“Might take a while.”
“I’ve got time,” I say, my heart speeding up at the thought.
“You sure about that?”
I know what he’s really asking. Can I handle this? Am I ready for it? I surprise us both with how fast I answer.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m sure.”
I can see him let down a little bit more of his guard. He’s still unsure, but I can tell I’m getting to him. He wants this as much as I do, maybe even more.
“If I’m going to stay a while, I’ll need a tour of the house. And preferably a list of everyone who lives here.”
“Just me, three of my brothers, my little sister, and one wife. Dom and Besiana have their own place, but they’re often here too. So are Mom and Dad, and Nanna Toni.”
“Holy crap. That’s a lot of mafia.”
He chuckles. “Thought you liked living dangerously.”
“Such a lot of damn Rosettis,” I say, like that’s any kind of answer.
We reach the library, the giant doors yawning open. It’s huge, filled with shelves that stretch to the ceiling, all dark wood and cold marble. It’s empty, echoing, and makes it clear this actually is a mafia mansion.
“Beautiful,” I say.
“You look disappointed.”
“I kind of thought you were showing me to your sex dungeon.”
Rafe leans against the doorframe, lazy and sure of himself.
“Any room can work for that. As long as we keep it quiet,” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice.
“We’re going to sneak around?”
“We are.”
I grin at the thought. It’s insane, but so is everything else about us.
“Don’t tell me the Rosetti boys are scared of a little scandal.”
He pulls me in, quick and hungry, crushing his mouth to mine, swallowing the sound of my surprise. It’s not a long kiss, but it’s enough to remind me why I’m doing this, why I’m letting myselfbe vulnerable. Because I’m not, not with him. He knows me. He’s seen me, all of me.
