Page 44 of Nanny to the Mafia

He can’t be that high profile if he can’t get the best table in the house.

“You like the place?”

I turned to find him alone again, eyes pinned on me.

“What’s not to like?”

“Bene.” He took my hand in his and placed a soft kiss on my pulse point. “Our first date.”

I frowned. What did he have on his lips to make my skin burn so hot?

“It’s not really a date.” I dismissed him and his dark look, letting my glance run through the restaurant. “Is he here?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“If you look at me, I will show you.”

I turned to look at him.

“Come closer.”

“I am close enough.”

Leaning over, he jerked the chair with me on it closer to him, smashing the distance between us. “Not for me. In the far-right corner….” He snapped my head back to him when I tried to look. “Don’t look yet. There is an older gentleman in a black suit with two men in grey.” He let go of my chin. “You can look now.”

I tried to flick a causal glance to the corner. I spotted the bald, heavy-weight man easily. “Is that the judge?”

I turned around to see him nod. He would not miss us when he left the restaurant.

We had the best table in the house.

“How did you know where he would be seated?”

He gave a casual shrug. “I have my contacts.”

I bet he did. This man dressed today in black from top to toe looked like the devil himself, able to manipulate anyone to his will, including me. I don’t know how he did it, but he wore a simple shirt and trousers like a model on a billboard. Thoughts of ripping off both crowded my mind.

Our wines arrived. Red for him and white for me. I took the chance to regain my hand, wrapped it around the stem, and took a sip.

“Tsk, tsk, Divya. Where are your manners?”

Heat kissed my cheeks as I clinked my glass to his waiting one.

“To our marriage,” he murmured.

It was a good wine. I liked them sweet, but not too sweet. Somehow, he had chosen one that was the perfect blend. Another thing he was good at.

The moment I put my glass down, he caught my hand in his and rested it on his upper thigh, rubbing it softly. Just like he had on the car ride. Rough fingers on my soft skin were sending sparks up my spine.

I glanced up to find his eyes on me, visually taking me in, just like he was his red wine.

Crap.

There was a wetness in between my thighs that made me clench my legs together. I flexed my hand lying on his thigh, so close to a warmer place.

Why had I made such a big deal about the no-sex rule?

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