Page 21 of Assistant to the Mafia

Grace twisted her hands in the fabric of the shirt and glanced toward the bathroom. She didn’t want to go in there and see what she’d left behind, but she didn’t exactly have a choice. Although… There was no harm in checking the time first.

That plan drew her attention to the paper seemingly propped up on her phone.

It took some fumbling in the dark, unfamiliar space, but Grace got the side lamp on and her vision cleared enough to read the words. She shouldn’t have been surprised Romeo left her some kind of message. She supposed what did surprise her was that it was more than a reminder to be out before Lucia got home from school, or to keep what had happened between them quiet. In fact, neither of those concepts was expressed in any degree.

The note informed her that he’d cleared out the bathroom so it was safe for her to use, and she wouldn’t have to worry about a stranger entering the room. She would find a packaged toothbrush on the counter he had left for her. He’d straightened out the pants from the night before and left them on the edge of the bed as well, and they could figure out a better clothing situation once she was awake. Finally, he’d written that he would be leaving to take Lucia to school and then returning, and that he didn’t expect to be leaving again. So unless she woke up before eight-thirty, he was likely to be home and available when she was ready to come downstairs.

P.S. I have great coffee, too.

Her lips twitched. She hadn’t realized it until that moment, but she was starving. And her chest felt too warm. She had the most irrational urge to clutch the note close and press her lips to it.

Grace managed to resist and instead set it aside. Her fingers brushed over her phone and she paused. The display told her it was nearly ten in the morning, which was absolutely horrifying. She hadn’t slept that late since she was a middle-schooler, maybe. The display also told her she had a crap ton of messages, and the sight of those notifications chased away the warm, fluffy feeling she’d been floating in seconds previously. She might not be at work, but work could always find her.

She frowned and left the phone where it was as she pushed to her feet. No matter the number of messages, her bladder was done waiting. And come to think of it, she still needed another shower. But it was already a quarter to ten, so she’d make it fast, and then go see if she could find her way back down to the main floor.

It was minutes after ten o’clock when she dared step from Romeo’s bedroom. She’d redonned his sweatpants, once again drawn high on her hips so she could better anchor them and the ankles rolled to avoid tripping. His shirt was a balancing game, but she was just large enough that she was fairly confident she could keep it in place. It was more embarrassing traipsing through his halls knowing she had no undergarments in place, that her boobs were bouncing with each step, and that she’d had to wash out her lady parts in his shower because he’d insisted on filling her up the night before. Which she really did not want to think about in this situation.

The staircase was at least easy to find, and she only caught a glimpse of one other person on the way. At the bottom of the stairs she paused, because her memory of entering the house was a blur, and in her moment of stillness the low murmur of voices drew her attention.

She followed them on instinct, becoming quickly and increasingly convinced she knew the tones of the two speakers she’d heard so far. In fact, she knew both of them very well, in dramatically different ways. Heat rushed to her cheeks and she paused just beyond the entry of what she assumed was a sitting room. For as much as she didn’t quite know what to say to Romeo when she saw him next, she had anticipated that encounter sooner than later. She had not been prepared for also coming face-to-face with her boss just yet.

She couldn’t help but look down again at her borrowed clothes. Her excuse was valid. She just wasn’t sure that was enough to propel her forward.

Something moved in front of her and a strong hand tipped her chin up, drawing her eye along Romeo’s body until she was drowning in the blue of his warm smile. “You want some coffee, angel? I didn’t expect you up this soon.”

Grace balked. “It’s ten.”

“You had a lot to sleep off.” He curled his finger, turning her head slightly, and his smile dropped. “How’s your pain?” He released her chin with a lingering stroke of his thumb.

She didn’t know how to respond. He was speaking softly and touching her in a way that made sense for the intimacy they’d established, except his brother was just behind him, barely out of sight. She drew a deep breath, trying to think past the rising panic. “I—” She was hungry, and coffee sounded wonderful, and she wanted to stay near him. She couldn’t explain it, but Romeo felt safe. Like having dialed him the night before had been some intervention of fate and she wasn’t dumb enough to misinterpret that.

Her gaze flicked to the side, trying to see through the cased opening of the wall to where she thought Dante sat. As if the sight of him would help her choice. But didn’t she know how he’d feel about this? Wasn’t that why he was there, and not at the office?

Her throat swelled at the thought of the mess she’d made. “I should—”

“Nope.” Romeo spun her around by her shoulders as if she were standing on a carousel. “We’re not doing that today, Grace.” He moved her forward, walking with her, and projected his voice. “We’re getting coffee and food. Come back to the dining room if you want to talk.”

Her feet kept moving, but trepidation twisted her stomach. “Romeo,” she whispered, “this is— It’s so inappropriate.”

She spotted the kitchen and shifted her weight in assumption of their direction at the same time as Romeo shifted his hold on her and the next thing she knew, her back was against a wall in the hallway. The kitchen was to the side, out of reach, and she couldn’t see a thing past Romeo’s broad shoulders as he leaned close.

“Here’s the thing,” Romeo said, his voice dipping into that delightfully rougher tone she remembered from the night before. The tone she really did not need to be thinking about when what might have been her actual boss was walking by. Romeo didn’t blink. “Last night, I implied I would back off today and give you the chance to put your walls up again. To push me away and decide things between us needed to go back to the daytime status quo.”

Grace swallowed hard, her heart thundering in her ears at his choice of words. “You did.”

“I lied.”

Her eyes widened.

Romeo trailed one hand down her side, purposefully rumpling the shirt as he spoke. “My house, my bed, my clothes.” He dipped his hand beneath the shirt and splayed his palm over her side, just above the too-high waist of the pants. “My woman.”

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

He stroked his thumb along the underside of her boob and bent lower, bringing himself closer. “We can slow down if you need to, but I’m not letting you go.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek on the opposite side of her bruise, then murmured, “That’s what you need to think about, angel.”

Her head spun as a myriad of reactions raced through her. She ought to have been furious at his words, or at least at his too bold behavior, but there was no denying she liked it. She felt flustered and flattered and stupidly giddy, like a teenager whose crush had finally paid attention to them. She blamed that conflicting emotional, psychological response on why she only stared at him as he straightened.

“Now, you sit, I’ll get you some sustenance. Anything in particular sound good?” Romeo slid an arm around her shoulders and guided her away from the wall, toward his surprisingly large dining room table.

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