Page 20 of Little Deer
A small chuckle escapes me. “I’m surprised you don’t have women falling at your feet with that kind of attitude.”
“I’d much rather scoop them up in my arms,” he flirts.
I flush, thinking that it was him that did just that when he had to carry me out of that hell hole. Alright, I guess this one’s the charmer, and even though I shouldn’t be, charmed is exactly what I am. “Stop that,” I admonish him lightly.
“Stop what?” He blinks at me, but his eyes are bright with amusement.
“That.” I wave my hand at him. “If you’re trying to charm and flirt with me to relax me, it’s only going to work a little bit. I’m not happy to be here, and I’m not comfortable with the whole mafia thing.”
He doesn’t lose his smile, but the laughter in his eyes dims. “You’ve only been here for a few short hours,dolcezza, so give yourself time. And since you’re in my room, you’ll be seeing me often when I come to collect things to change and get ready for the day.”
Shit. I did forget this was his space. “Oh, I’m sorry. I should have asked Sofia?—”
“No, no,” he interjects quickly. “You’re staying right here, all three of you. I’ve got another space to stay until you’re well enough to be up on your own, and we can find another room for you.” He winks at me again as he gets to his feet. “You’ll just have to get used to the eye candy in the meantime.” Then he strides over to what I’m assuming is the closet. “Do I have to worry about you peeking on me, Ms. Taylor?”
It’s been so long since anyone’s flirted with me, but the familiar heat and butterflies in my belly aren’t a terrible sensation. I don’t answer, and pointedly turn my face away to look at Soren as I hear him moving around in there. When he finally emerges, he’s holding a few items, removed his suit coat, and rolled the sleeves of his shirt halfway up his forearm.
Why is that such a hot thing? My gaze zeroes in on his forearm not covered in clothes, taking in the definition there, along with the tattoos. Damn it, I’m a sucker for tattoos, which is exactly why my mother had a hard time liking Joey at first since he was covered in them.
He smiles at me when he stops at the foot of the bed. “I’ll leave you to sleep, but if you need anything, there’s a guard right outside the door.”
“I thought we weren’t prisoners.” The word guard is a hard slap right back into reality.
“You aren’t. The whole point of him is to make sure you’re not disturbed. He’s here for your protection, Lucy. You’re free to leave the room any time you want. Just like your sister was.”
I want to point out that he still sent someone with her, and I don’t buy the whole showing her the way bullshit, but I just nod, feigning acceptance. Biding my time. That needs to be my new mantra.
He must think I’m accepting that at face value because he smiles and says, “I’ll see you in the morning then. Do you and thebambinohave everything you need?”
I nod. “Sofia brought us all the supplies we might need.” I look at Soren, still sleeping. “But he’s probably going to be up a lot tonight. So I’m sorry if he wakes anyone.”
Massimo waves that away. “Do not worry about it. If you need anything, just tell the guard on the door and he’ll get it or send someone to. Goodnight, Lucy. I promise things will be easier in the morning.” Then, with another one of his charming smiles, he’s gone.
Easier is not the word I’d use, but different, certainly. I just have to hope that tomorrow will be soon enough to start planning a way out of here.
Mafia life is not for me, and definitely not for my son. I don’t care how charming Massimo or any of the others might be. They are not my family, I don’t trust them, and they are the reason I’m going to run as far and as fast as I can when the time is right.
12
LUCY
Soren sleepsfor most of the night, and I’m grateful for the sleep, but clearly all the extra sleep for him has pissed him off royally. He wakes both Kida and I up screaming angrily, and at first it’s just reflex to grab him, but the events of the last few days come crashing down and I have to bite back a groan. I glance around, looking for some sort of clock, but see nothing.
“You’re probably good now,” Kida mutters groggily, rolling over in the bed and burrowing into the pillow. She’s back asleep in seconds, while I pull up the shirt I’m wearing and bring him to my breast. Soren latches on angrily, suckling hard enough to make me wince.
I press my head back against the headboard, closing my eyes tiredly, while absently stroking a finger over Soren’s hair. I was really hoping this was all a bad dream and I’d wake back up in my apartment. I’m only on my maternity leave for a couple more weeks, and I want to spend all the time I can with Soren before Ihave to leave him at the daycare I lined up as soon as I found out I was pregnant.
I try not to cry at the thought of all those plans going down the drain. Even if whatever the hell is going on now is resolved, that doesn’t mean I get to go back to my regular life. My job. Our home. There are so many unknowns right now it’s overwhelming to think about them all.
I open my eyes and look down at Soren, whose eyes are closed as he happily gets his fill. I smile at him and then look around the room. With everything going on, I didn’t have time to really take it all in. And seeing it with the sun starting to shine in through the windows, I’m in awe.
The room is huge. Like, two of my apartments huge, and that’s just the main area. The room is long, with fancy-looking furniture elegantly arranged around it to incorporate a sitting area, a decently sized desk positioned in front of a stone hearth, and even a couple of built-in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, complete with a rolling ladder. The ceiling is intricately carved out in a gothic style, complete with a black chandelier dripping in diamonds. The door out of the room is large, with some sort of carving in it, and what I have to imagine is real wood. I’m surprised we can even open them; they look so heavy. To the left of that is another smaller table with a couple books that look old and more for decoration than reading. A large window, complete with window seat and some kind of carving in the wood around it, boasts along most of the same wall the bed is pressed against, and only stops a good six feet away.
I look to the other side and see two doors, one that I know leads to the closet and the other to the bathroom. The floors are a dark marble, and I have to assume that just this room alone probably cost a quarter of a million dollars.
I guess crime does pay.
This room alone is fit for a king, and it makes me wonder what the other rooms in this place are like. I really want to find out. Mostly because I need to know possible ways out, but also, well, I’ve always wondered how the rich live. I work in a bookstore, and you have to wonder if the descriptions you read in books are accurate in real life. This room feels like it belongs in some kind of fantasy romance book, and the dragon prince is about to swoop in and change into some gorgeous man. Add in wings, and I’d be living out the fantasies of millions of women around the world.
