Page 44 of Princess of the Mafia

He is just another made man. Like all the others around me.

My eyes jittered around his office. I must have been in a daze yesterday, because I couldn’t remember anything about it. When I caught the chrome metal storage unit lining the wall and steel visitor chairs on the other side of the desk, I realized it was as cold as the rest of his penthouse. The only surprise was his desk, which had an old and patterned leather covering as if it had been used for generations. It didn’t match the rest at all and stuck out like a vintage handbag among the glitzy designer brands. Neither did the burgundy-colored couch in the corner. Wrapped in velvet, it called out to me. Because it was warm and because it was away from a man standing too close to me.

My bare thighs below my shorts bristled the moment the velvet touched my skin. They’d used the velvet against the direction of the hairs. It scratched ever so tauntingly on my naked skin.

I thought he would sit in the director’s chair behind his desk. Show me through actions who had the upper hand. But he sank onto the middle of the couch, lay back, legs spread wide, and wrapped his arms around the back. Even though I cuddled in the far corner, his fingertips rested right behind the nape of my neck, a mere inch away. His hair was thick and lush. His lips were full and heavy. Unfamiliar thoughts sizzled through the blood in my veins. What would it feel like to run my hands through his tendrils or to leave a dent on his lips with my teeth… Instantly, all the air shifted around me.

For the thousandth time, I wished I was not brought up so protected that the first non-family male I came across had me all hot and bothered and ready to climb up a wall.

I inched my body as subtly as possible away from those thick fingers on velvet.

“Tell me why you’re not happy, Daria?”

I stiffened like a ramrod metal sheet had been stuck up my back. Of all the things to fall from his mouth, I hadn’t expected that.

I blinked. Why? You forced this. You came for my sister. I didn’t have a choice. I never wanted to marry a made man. I want to study. I want to work. I don’t want to stay at home waiting to welcome you, reeking of another woman’s perfume. I don’t want any of this. I want a different life. One of my choice.

But nothing floated out of my vocal cords.

“Why, Daria?”

Talking about issues never came easily to me. I hated this. I didn’t want to talk about this. It made me anxious. Pulled me out of my comfort zone. Hives crawled up my body and took residence. Escape whispered in my rib cage.

I flexed my thighs to get up, but those fingers of his wrapped around the nape of my neck and pulled me back. Even though he was gentle, the heat of his touch startled me.

An eyebrow cocked up. “You’re not running away, Principessa. Now talk.”

His palm burned the back of my neck like the heat of a fireplace. I shifted away, and his palm shifted with me. Frustration curdled my blood. Please move your hands off me.

“Please move your hands off me.”

I didn’t realize I’d actually uttered the words whirling in my mind. His lips thinned and something flickered in his eyes, but he let go of my neck slowly, as if he was reluctant to do so. I couldn’t stop the sigh of relief falling out of me.

“Talk, now.” His tone was gruff.

My voice grated as I forced the words out, “I didn’t want to marry you.”

A harsh laugh slipped out of him. “I didn’t want to get married either, Principessa.”

Wait. What? Why?

“Why did you then?”

He shook his head. “I asked you.”

I laughed snidely. “Isn’t that how it always works? It’s a one-way road with all of you.”

He pushed his other hand through his hair. I wished he’d take the hand wrapped behind me on the couch instead. But it remained where it was. Thick, heavy, and warm, sending silent tingles to my nape.

His jaw tightened. “Va bene, you tell me your reason, and I’ll tell you mine.”

I eyed him suspiciously. I didn’t believe him one bit. My gaze drifted to the closed door with a longing so deep in my heart that I wondered if it would fly open out of sheer will.

His gaze was dark. “I have all day, Daria. No one is going to come in and no one is going out. It’s just you and me, Principessa.”

I chewed on my bottom lip. Dammit. He wasn’t my psychologist. I wanted to be anywhere but with him.

“And stop chewing your damn lip,” he growled.

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