Page 8 of Vengeful Mafia Prince

I drive through the city streets, which are quieter than they usually are. I frown slightly. A sign that something is going on? That, somewhere out there, there's something happening that I should know about?

I'm not sure.

Maybe it's just me realizing that there's some attraction to Elena on my part, too, that has me feeling the way I am right now. I saw how striking she was before we even met, of course, but it's another thing entirely to be in her presence, to see the way she looks up at me, those big innocent eyes staring into mine.

Fuck.

I flex my fingers on the wheel. I'm into her. I want her. I already told myself, long before I got to this point, that I was going to do whatever it took to get her to give me what I wanted. It just seems like whatever it takes might be easier to pull off than I imagined.

And that's how I end my night, with the thought of her, with the thought of something more.

Chapter Four—Elena

I fidget as I try to pluck up the courage to go over to him. God, I need to pull myself together. It's just a crush, for goodness' sake!

Ever since he stayed late to help me with the flyers, I've been feeling things for him that I know, damn straight, shouldn't even be crossing my mind. But how could they not, given the circumstances? He's so damn handsome. And damn charming. And damn... everything, actually, now that I think of it. How am I supposed to ignore that?

It's the end of a busy day, and the two of us are the only ones left in the office right now. And, yes, I might have gone out of my way to make sure that happened. I wanted him all to myself, partly because I want to speak to him, partly because, if I crash and burn, I don't want anyone else from work to be around to see it happen.

Finally, he glances over and notices me. The rest of the lights in the office are dim, and he grins when he sees me looking in his direction. Oh, hell, that damn smile! Every time I see it, it sends a shiver down my spine. It's genuine, but it speaks to something beneath the surface that he doesn't quite want me to see.

And that's the part I can't wait to get closer to.

"You stuck doing the flyers again?" he asks as he approaches, and I shake my head.

"No, I think I'm on top of everything today, thankfully." I manage a small laugh.

He grins back. "Glad to hear it."

"There's actually... uh, I was wondering what you were doing here so late."

He shifts his weight slightly, not breaking my gaze for a moment. "I was waiting for everyone else to go home."

My heart skips a beat. Is he saying what I think he's saying?

"Why?"

"Because I want to take you out to dinner," he replies calmly, as though it should have been obvious. "And I don't like the thought of becoming office gossip."

Oh. There it is. I part my lips and close them again, feeling stupid. I have no idea what to say to him, no idea what to do.

"How does that sound?" he asks, and I finally bite down on my lip and nod.

"I really like that idea," I confess. Truth be told, I really wanted to ask him out myself. I want to spend more time with him, I want to really get to know him. I'm sure what I have for him is nothing more than the barest little passing crush, but that doesn't mean I don't want to make the most out of it.

"I have a table booked at a Korean place," he tells me as he pulls on his jacket. I raise my eyebrows at him, more than a little surprised.

"Uh, you were that confident I was going to go out with you?"

He just shrugs. "You said yes, didn't you?"

Hell, I didn't even realize I made it that obvious! Have I really been acting that into him? Or maybe he's just really good at picking up signals. I get the feeling it's a bit of both.

I follow him out of the office, and he leads me to his car, whisking me off to a new location where he's already booked a table for us. I kind of like how forward he was, basically deciding that the two of us were going to go out together and acting on it before I even said yes.

When we arrive, he holds the door open for me, and I have to walk by him, close enough that I can smell his aftershave. It's different than the kind he's been wearing around the office since I met him, something deeper, woodier, almost more musky.

God, is it bad that I can recognize his aftershave? Probably.

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