Page 5 of Dark Mafia Bride

“Do you flirt with them afterward?” I ask, deliberately sidestepping the fact that I’m fishing for information about whether this gorgeous man is involved with anyone.

What are you doing, Mirabella? This man is a murderer.

I shouldn’t even be sitting here with him.

This man saved your life. Yes. You wouldn’t be here without him.

“Just you, Mirabella,” he drawls, this time putting more weight on my name, his eyes locking onto mine with a piercing intensity.

It’s too intense, too deep. I look away, reaching for a spoon and scooping some of the chicken carrot soup into my mouth.

There’s something about him that draws me in. Maybe it’s the way he carries himself—so calm, so in control, even in the face of danger. Perhaps it’s the way his gaze lingers on me—just a little too long, intense, and focused. He makes me feel things I’ve never experienced before, feelings I shouldn’t be having at this moment.

But then I find myself wondering,Why not?

Why not take a risk for once? Why not do something for myself instead of scraping by day after day struggling for everyone else? I could have died today. Hell, I almost did. And here I am, sitting across from a man who’s likely the most dangerous person I’ve ever met, and yet I feel safe...and aroused.

I’ll never see Ettore again. He seems like someone I could never stand a chance of bumping into on a normal day. Aftertonight, I’ll return to my pathetic life moving from one dreadful work shift to the next.

Maybe it’s the thrill of narrowly escaping death or the excitement of having the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen staring at me in this way, but I lean forward, my voice soft as I blurt out, “I think I want to have sex with you.”

2

ETTORE

Mirabella sits across from me, her damp auburn hair clinging to her face in messy waves, the rain still fresh on her. The soft light in the restaurant highlights the olive undertone of her skin, making her look even more striking. She’s fucking beautiful, with eyes the deep, dark brown of rich espresso, and there’s always that glint of challenge in them when she looks at me.

And damned if I can look away.

I think I want to have sex with you.

Her words keep echoing in my head, relentless, and I have to fight back a groan at the way my dick hardens. She’s different—completely unlike anyone I’ve ever dealt with before. Bold as hell, yet there’s something underneath, a hint of bashfulness that shows through her confident exterior.

Her clothes cling to her, still wet, and I can clearly see the outline of her hardened nipple through the thin fabric of her dress. But it’s the fire in her eyes that keeps me locked in. She’s not scared—not of me, at least—and that makes her all the more fascinating.

When she leans in closer, her lips curving into that half-smile she’s been flashing at me all night, I have to remind myself why I don’t get involved. Not with women like her. Not with anyone, really.

“Are you in shock?” She throws my earlier question back at me, her tone teasing.

A dark thrill snakes up my spine, mixed with something more dangerous.

I’ve always been the one in control. Of my body. Of my emotions. I’m not impulsive, and I definitely don’t let my dick call the shots. But as the tension crackles in the air between us, I feel something dangerous pulling me in. The way she keeps looking at me, her gaze moving over me like she’s daring me to do something, is pushing all the wrong—or maybe all the right—buttons.

“You think?” I finally ask, leaning in just a fraction. “Or do youknowyou want to have sex with me?”

Her full lips stretch into a knowing smile as she twirls a lock of wet auburn hair between her fingers.

“I could’ve died a virgin tonight. Worse, someone else could have taken that choice from me,” she says, and my fists tighten at the reminder of what almost happened earlier.

“So…” she gulps. “…before I die, I want to know what an orgasm feels like. People say it’s the best feeling in the world, and I want to experience that…”

Her eyes flash with heat and…fuck! I feel myself harden even more.

“…I want to see a man’s body. Yours, to be exact,” she says, her voice soft and teasing as she bites her lower lip, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I bet it’s one hell of a sight.”

Her words settle deep in my chest, her meaning clear.

“Except…” she says, her voice soft but confident, “you don’t want to have sex with me. Although I think you do …” Her dark brown eyes gleam with challenge.

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