Page 32 of Mine to Tease

Damon’s brows crinkle as he detects just how nervous I am. He lowers his gaze, returning his attention to my palm. I assume he’s thinking through his answer. And since I’d rather he tell me the truth than a reassuring lie, I wait patiently. All the while, I do my best to focus on him as he tends to my cut, first with stinging peroxide, and second with some sort of glue that tugs on my tender skin. I wince.

“It wasn’t deep enough to warrant stitches, so this glue should help stop the bleeding and I’ll wrap it up in some waterproof gauze.”

“Thank you. But, Damon, I’m still waiting for your answer.”

“I know,” he says as he wraps the gauze around my hand. “The truth is, there is a short list of reasons why I’d be pulled back into the field now that the Mafia is no more. And when it comes to that list, there isn’t much room for negotiation. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to consult you, it’s just…I don’t even know if I’d have a choice.” At that, I nod and lower my eyes to my thighs. Damon’s finished tending to my hand but I don’t have it in me to move.

“Hey, what’s on your mind, my love? You seem worried.”

“I am,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

“What for?” Damon places his hands on either side of my thighs and leans toward me.

“I just…tonight was my first glimpse into what the mob and the Mafia is really like and it’s scary. I’m…I’m scared, Damon, of the situations that you may be put into, of the situations I may?—”

“Nothing is going to happen to you, Anastasia,” Damon says, cutting me off.

“But how can you know that with my brother out there torturing people and delivering severed heads to doorsteps? Who’s to say that Angelo’s family won’t seek revenge? And let’s say we do make it through this unscathed, what about the next time and the time after that? My brother was a top soldier and advisor back in Boston, taking my father’s place after he died, but he’s never had this kind of power before. He’s never been in the position to make these kinds of enemies. And even if he gets a hold of himself, the territory he now controls is reason enough for someone to come after him, to come after me. Am I wrong?”

As I ramble, Damon wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him for a hug. It’s tight and warm and it’s just what I need. The soft beat of his heart and his calming scent soothes me.

“I hear you, Anastasia. Your concerns are valid. But you’re forgetting two things.”

“What’s that?” I ask, my voice muffled as I bury my face against his chest.

“Firstly, your brother was chosen to serve as Josephine’s proxy in New Orleans for a reason. Now, I may not know what that reason is, but Josephine Cullen is an intelligent woman and a strong leader. She wouldn’t have put him in charge if she didn’t trust him.”

I suppose Damon has a point. “And the second?”

Damon squeezes me tighter and then kisses my hair softly. “Secondly, you have me, and I have colleagues and allies as dangerous and ruthless as anyone your brother could ever piss off. And you also have the protection of the mob even though you haven’t been utilizing it. If there ever comes a time where either I or your brother feels you need extra protection, we can make that happen. In theory, you’re the safest woman in the world because you have two of the most powerful criminal syndicates ready to defend you. So don’t worry. Besides, that’s my job anyway.”

“No, not anymore,” I say, pulling myself from him to meet his gaze. “If this is going to work, it can’t be one-sided. Now it’s our job to worry about each other.”

Damon smiles and then nods.

“Okay, my love. We can worry about each other. But right now, you need to wash this day off, calm your mind, and get some rest. Now, put your arms around my neck.”

34

Anastasia wraps her arms around my neck and I carry her from the kitchen to the bathroom. I set her down on the toilet and quickly start the shower for her. Though, I’m not sure the hot spray will be the best thing for her hand. “I’m more of a bath person,” she says then. Well, that solves that problem. I turn the water off in the shower and move to the large clawfoot tub. “I also like candles and there are some bath bombs and botanical oils underneath the sink.” I turn to her then, both amused by her and grateful there are still things left for me to learn about her.

“Of course, my love,” I say. I get the water going, and remembering the blisters on her feet, I choose a eucalyptus oil to help with the pain and a lavender-and-rosemary-scented bath bomb to help her destress. Man, it smells so good, I almost want to hop in with her. But no, this is meant to be relaxing, not sexual, and if I get in that tub with her, I can’t promise my dick won’t awaken. Next up, I light the candle on top of her vanity and make sure there’s a towel ready for her when she gets out.

With the water rising and steam filling the dark room, Anastasia bends over to remove her heels. “Allow me,” I say. Quickly, I kneel before her and discard them. “Oh, baby.” Her feet look worse than I thought. “I hope you’re not attached to those heels, because you’re never wearing them again.”

“Ha, my mother always said beauty is pain.” At that, she stands and struggles with the button on her jeans.

“Allow me,” I say once more. Anastasia lifts her eyes to mine, as if assessing my intentions. No doubt, the flickering flames of the candle have brought up memories from earlier just as they have for me. “Don’t worry, baby. This isn’t about me. This is for you.” She nods then, granting me permission to undress her. I’m not sure if her hesitancy is due to her sleepiness or if she’s still struggling to trust me. Either way, I know not to push her.

I move my hands to the button on her jeans and gently pull them down her legs. This one simple movement has her standing before me fully exposed. Respectfully, I avoid looking at the space between her thighs as she steps out of the jeans and kicks them to the side. Next up, I move my hands to the bottom of her T-shirt. I look to her before I remove it and find her staring back at me, her lips parting in anticipation. Slowly, I pull her T-shirt up over her shoulders and head.

With her shirt discarded, she stands before me, naked with messy curls and glistening eyes. “You look like a goddess or angel, if you prefer, just something otherworldly.” She smiles then and takes a step toward me. Gently, she stands on her tiptoes and kisses me on the cheek. The simple movement takes all the broken parts of me and melds them back together, removing any remaining uncertainty from my body. We’re going to be okay.

“Help me into the tub?” she asks.

“Of course, my love.” I offer her my hand and help her balance as she steps into the warm, lavender-tinted bath.

“Ah,” she breathes as the water immediately soothes her aching feet. “This feels so good.” Slowly, she sits, sinking all except her bandaged hand and head beneath the water. I kneel down to remain beside her. She takes a few moments to breathe in the calming aroma of the oil and bath bomb and then quickly gets busy, with the one working hand she has, scrubbing the makeup from her face. I smile, admiring all of her little movements. I’ve observed her for months now and have fallen in love with her mannerisms, but there’s obviously not a camera in her bathroom or bedroom. Seeing her like this now is a new experience and I cherish every second of it.

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