Page 31 of Assistant to the Mafia

Grace didn’t know if she’d ever been more comfortable. They were basically cuddling on the chaise part of the sofa in his less formal sitting room, and he was holding her so tightly against his side that she was probably as much on top of him as she was on the sofa itself. His arm was stretched down and around her back, his fingers rubbing slowly and almost absently over her hip as he finished up a call to Dante.

She let her mind wander, just for a moment, as she breathed him in. Her body was sore but too relaxed to care. Romeo had taken her into the shower with him after blowing her back out on the bed, then proceeded to wring one more toe-curling orgasm from her under the multi-angled spray. It was ridiculous the way he commanded her body, considering he’d never touched her before the previous night.

Then again, she supposed she had been single-mindedly lusting after him for a while. Maybe she’d brainwashed herself. Is that possible?

“Appreciate it, brother,” Romeo said. His arm lowered and he set the phone onto the side table next to the chaise. “Dr. Miles’s reservation is all taken care of.”

Grace felt her face heat all over again. She really could not believe she’d done that, or even agreed to the motivation behind it. But she couldn’t work herself up to being irritated about it, either. “I think we should talk about some things,” she said softly. Her own fingers were playing over the subtle indents in his designer button-up. “Before we get interrupted, or distracted, again.”

Romeo chuckled. “Just having you in my arms like this is a fucking distraction.” He reached over and caught her hand, lifting her knuckles to his lips. “But we do have things to talk about.”

She smiled, her heart fluttering at the gentle kisses he gave and the tender way he was touching her. She almost didn’t want to do what she’d suggested, because she knew where she needed to start. “I know people say things … in the heat of the moment.” She didn’t even want to ask, but she had to.

“Nope.”

Her intended words tangled on her tongue, her mouth hanging open. “Huh?”

Romeo lowered her hand back to his chest, holding tighter as he curled his fingers around hers. “You don’t have to ask me that. I absolutely fucking meant it. You’re mine, and I am not letting you go. I already told you that.”

Her heart hammered against her ribs. “That seems like a big commitment to make, so fast. That’s all.” She heard how weak her words were and she knew why. The rational side of her insisted it wasn’t this easy, that it wasn’t this perfect, but it was what she wanted. So the idea of arguing against it hurt.

“Just because you’ve only been aware of my interest in you for about a day doesn’t mean that’s how long it’s been there,” Romeo said. He stroked his thumb over her knuckles.

Grace tipped her head up so she could see his face without prying herself off him. She stared into his eyes for a long moment, and smiled. “Me, too.”

His grip of her tightened, the blue in his eyes warming the way she was coming to learn meant his desire had spiked, and he rumbled deep in his chest. “What’s your favorite flower?”

The question threw her completely for a loop. “I beg your pardon?”

“Favorite flower. You don’t strike me as a rose-for-every-occasion kind of woman.” He paused. “It’s a family thing, apparently.”

Amusement trickled through her and Grace stretched her fingers in an attempt to catch his. “Amaryllis,” she said. “Not that I dislike roses, but I do think they’re a little cliché.” She grinned. “Are you going to start calling me that now?” She knew Dante sometimes called Iris ‘snapdragon’, and she couldn’t think of what else Romeo could possibly mean. Unless he was merely thinking about using his sister-in-law’s new flower shop to acquire some for her.

Romeo chuckled. “You’ll have to wait and see, angel.”

She bit back her laughter. “Man of mystery now, are you?”

“Always have been. I just did it so well, you never even knew.” He said it with a wide, dimply grin she could not be blamed for getting mushy over.

It made it harder to ask the other questions she’d nearly forgotten she needed answers to. The questions that could yet prove to be where the imperfection in this moment reared its ugly head. But she had to know. She had to have a line.

The amusement disappeared from his tone, and his expression, when he spoke again. “I know you want to ask a bunch of questions about what we do,” he said, voice serious but quieter than before. “And I will answer anything you need to know. But I’m asking you, Grace, don’t lump us in with old Hollywood mobsters. We could spend days going over the ins and outs of what the family does and doesn’t do, or you could give us a chance and see for yourself.” He held her somehow tighter, his fingers digging into her hip. “Let me give you what you want.”

That was cheating. She knew it, and still she couldn’t resist it.

Grace opened her mouth, intent on asking at least one question, and his phone rang.

Romeo cursed under his breath, easing his grip enough to shift his weight and snatch the device from the side table. In two movements of his thumb he’d connected the call. “Talk to me.”

There was a brief pause before an unfamiliar male voice spoke, and Grace realized Romeo had put the call on speaker. “This is Miguel,” the caller said. “Your brother said to call.”

Romeo arched a brow. “Miguel, huh? Mikey’s got you working in the big office now, right? Lucky kid. What’s he need?”

“Oh yeah, real lucky,” Miguel said, the sarcasm nearly tangible. “I been staring at computer screens so long my eyes are blurry, man.” Miguel took a breath. “I’m callin’ ‘cause we found that woman’s car.”

Grace felt her brow furrow as she thought back to the woman who’d egged Romeo’s console that morning.

“Be more specific,” Romeo said.

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