Page 30 of Surprise Pregnancy for Villain

“I want to make certain that you eat,” he says, standing over me with his arms folded.

“Well, I’m eating. And I’d prefer to eat in peace if you don’t mind.”

He backs off and lowers his tall frame into the armchair in the corner of the room. “Consider it done.”

I narrow my eyes at him. He stares back at me, unblinking. Yes, it’s not polite to stare, but no one mentioned how unsettling it can make you feel. How vulnerable. How warm. How… turned on. I shift my attention back to my plate. I hate my body’s reaction to him.

“Would you like to watch a movie while you eat?” he asks, but it’s not meant as a question. He presses the remote and the set blinks as the channel changes. As he focuses his attention on the TV, I take a long, hard look at him. In profile, I note the regal straight line of his nose; his chiseled, clean-shaven cheekbones, and his defined jaw that is strong without being overly prominent. His shoulder-length hair, free of the ponytail, now sports soft, natural waves rather than the salon-sleek look of before. I remind myself this is the face of the enemy, and I should be ashamed and horrified to even think of it as attractive, but isn’t it prudent to know it in every detail?Know thine enemies and keep them closer than your friends; isn’t that how the adage goes?

I don’t feel like eating any more. The taste of meat and potatoes lingers in my mouth, and my tongue drags across the rough film of plaque on my teeth. I open the water bottle and take a giant swig, quelling the heavy meal’s aftertaste as well as my thirst. Ezio sits unmoving in the chair, his eyes focused on the movement on the screen. “Can I at least get a toothbrush and some toothpaste?” I ask. “Or do I have to wait on your mercy for that, too? I’d rather not have my teeth rot away from lack of oral hygiene while I’m here, thank you very much.”

He turns his head in my direction. “Imagine how better things would be, if only you’d been this polite.”

“If you expect me to apologize for defending myself…” I begin, but my words freeze in my throat as he suddenly stands up to his full height, blocking out the overhead light and throwing his big body into a menacing silhouette. From beneath his shadowed brow, his eyes are aglow, roving over me like a searchlight. Fear washes over me once more as we stay locked together in a wordless confrontation. Then he turns and walks out, the familiar click of the lock snapping into place adding an exclamation point to his exit.

Now what have I done?Dammit. My sharp tongue may be my undoing. The longer I keep him in the room talking, the better my chances of getting what I want, whether it’s a toothbrush, my freedom, or perhaps even my life. I’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Time to change strategy. Next time, no matter how much it hurts, or how much my stomach gives a treacherous flutter when he looks at me that way, I am going to play nice with the notorious Ezio Rossi.

Chapter Fourteen

Ezio

The term ‘beat a hasty retreat’ has never applied to me. I’ve never hurried away from anything. Or anyone. I’ve always been cool as a cucumber, even at the height of danger, even when I’ve just offed an enemy on his turf. I left as calmly as I’d gone. I’d never had a reason to leave somewhere as fast as my legs could take me.

Until now.

I don’t know what possessed me to linger in that room with Nicki. I’d done my deed. I’d taken her food. There was no need to stick around. But I’m like a moth to a flame, and Nicki is the flame. I’m not just talking about her spicy mouth, either. Her body rivals a fucking inferno. Feeling her pressed against me, those curves molding into me makes me realize how in-control I am.

But I’m also stupid. I should’ve left the second I let her go.

My cock was literally hard as I sat in that couch. Painfully hard. Itching to escape its restraint and find its target. That flesh between Nicki’s thighs. Sitting in that chair, with my imagination so vivid, I could almost feel her wetness gripping me. I pictured her bent over, taking my length from behind, her soft moans telling me she enjoyed being pleasured as much as I loved pleasuring her.

My fingers curled on my lap as I reminded myself I could never touch her. We are from the same world, yet distances apart. The Rossis and Borellis don’t mix. I can never take her home to meet my family. She can never produce my heir. Under the present circumstances, a relationship seems unlikely at best, impossible at worst. Even more impossible is the no-win predicament my father’s edict has placed on me.

Which leaves me, for the first time, beating a hasty retreat.

I don’t relish the thought of returning to our family’s stronghold anytime soon. Not only will I be expected to report but to return in triumph with my conquest in tow, to be paraded like Cleopatra through the streets of Rome. The parallel is painfully accurate: the Emperor demanding his tribute and gloating over his prize. The thought of my father touching her fills me with revulsion, the picture unthinkable. I’d cut off his hands if he tried.

As much as I resent Stefano’s decree and the position he’s put me in, he is still the Don. Though I am fully prepared to assume that role, my time has not yet come. Things would all be so simple if it were. I wouldn’t be the first mafia heir to knock off the reigning Don, but am I willing to commit patricide to hasten my ascension to power and my personal desires? I would be respected by some but mistrusted by others. Not a good recipe for success as a leader.

Now is not the time for such thoughts. My ‘guest’ is my priority. In my haste to bring her a hot dinner, I forgot to give her the clothes and toiletries I brought from the city.If I can soften her mood with gifts, that will be some modicum of success.

As I pick up the shopping bag full of items, it occurs to me that Nicki’s phone is still in my car. After the disastrous visit home, I forgot to remove it and store it at the warehouse as I’d planned.

I step outside to retrieve the device from the glove compartment and slip it into my pocket. There’s no SIM, and cell service is spotty at best in the area, so I don’t see an issue with giving it back to her. I return to Nicki’s room with a bag in hand, and as I reach for the locking bolt, I decide to knock on the door instead. I’m still in charge; she’ll come to respect that. But even in the mafia world, respect is earned, not granted. This is a show of goodwill. And if I want her to trust me, I need to show her that I’m not the threat she thinks I am. The hollowed sound of my knuckles on wood echoes in the nearly empty cabin. I get no response and am about to knock again when a faint voice comes from inside.

“What do you want, now?”

Oh, there is a long list of things I want, but for the moment, it’s only to make her more comfortable. “Stand back from the door,” I say, and with a flip of the bolt I enter the room. Nicki is sitting on the bed watching TV, the checkered blanket draped over herself like a shawl. I set the shopping bag with its conspicuous Neiman Marcus logo on the floor near her. “I forgot to give you this before. If there’s something missing, I can bring it next time.”

We stare at each other for a long minute until a lazy blink of her feathery lashes breaks the connection, and her glance shifts to the shopping bag. “Thank you,” she says, her voice calm and quiet. “And thank you for knocking.”

“I’m not your jailor. The lock is for your safety.”

“So, you’ve said. And when do you estimate I will be safe enough to leave it unlocked?” she asks.

“That’s up to you. But it won’t be soon if you continue to behave like a spoiled brat.”

Nicki reaches for the bag and paws through it with one hand, while holding the blanket closed with the other. She pulls out blouses, tee-shirts, jeans, soaps and lotions, and lays each item on the bed in succession. Lastly, she pulls out a bra by its shoulder strap and holds it up in the air. “Really? A C-cup?” she says dubiously, her brows raised. “Wishful thinking?”

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