Page 58 of Burning Beauty

"I don't want you to worry about me," she murmured. "I won't do anything stupid."

He looked down at her, studied her in that intense way of his. "Do you think you can be happy here? Do you think you can live like this?"

Maria caught her breath as he asked her some very big questions. She thought about it, tried to imagine what life with him in the long term would be like, but failed. There was no way to envision a life with Nic, living in the mansion with his Italian wife and the spectre of the mafia world hanging over them all the time. She couldn't imagine them growing old together, having children, having anything resembling the life she'd always wanted for herself. So, she told him the truth, and spoke from the heart. "I'm happy right now, and I don't want to leave."

He seemed to accept her answer, maybe because it was the only one he was going to get. She wasn't going to assure him that they could live happily ever after right there in that Miami mansion. How could there be a happy ever after when she lived on a guarded estate? Where she couldn't go for a walk on the beach without having to take her bodyguard? Where she could see what had happened to Cassandra, another woman forced to live under the strict rules of the DeLuca household.

But she wasn't lying when she told Nic that she was happy. Since becoming an adult, she’d never felt this level of contentment. She was cared for, both physically and emotionally. She connected with the other residents, Cassandra, Yara, and even Luke, and she felt safe for the first time in a long time. She didn't have to run from her past anymore. She thought about telling Nic about Marc and the death that led to her trial for murder but decided now wasn't the right time. No time ever seemed to be right for that conversation, and she knew she should bring it up sooner rather than later. She wasn't exactly hiding anything from him, but it wasn't a topic she enjoyed discussing either.

Tomorrow would be soon enough.

Chapter Thirty-One

"Why did you ask me to come out here?" she asked, her voice hushed. The atmosphere around the pool was so lovely, so ethereal, she didn't want to shatter the moment by speaking too loudly.

Nic didn't answer her. Instead he asked, "Do you want to swim with me?"

Maria was shocked by the question and didn't answer right away. Nic was such a powerful force, and part of that power was his dignity, his expensive business attire and attitude of total power. She couldn't imagine him unbending enough to let go of some of that control out here in the open where anyone could see them. Then again, he was Italian, didn't Italian guys wear teeny tiny swim trunks?

"Yes, please!" Her face lit up with excitement.

He flashed a quick smile at her enthusiasm that almost stopped her heart. He had dimples. Not deep boyish dimples, but grooves on each side of his unshaven mouth, giving his face a mobility that was usually masked by his perpetually frozen expression. He was beyond handsome when he smiled, and when his eyes warmed while he smiled down at her, Maria wanted to swoon.

He took her hand and walked her around the pool toward the shadowy deep end. Maria looked over her shoulder towards the house. "Shouldn't I go put on my bathing suit?"

He chuckled and continued to pull her along. "No, bella, you will not need it. I have asked my men to turn their attention away from the pool area for the next hour."

"And you think an hour is going to be enough time?" she asked innocently and then laughed out loud when Nic immediately turned around and grabbed her by the waist, dragging her into the heat of his body.

"What exactly do you think we will be doing out here, Maria?" The way he said her name, in that husky deep voice, the way he caressed each syllable with his beautiful accent, it did things to her.

She reached up and clasped her hands at the back of his neck, tugging on him. He dropped his head for her, and she stood on her toes and pressed her lips against his. Their breaths mingled, picking up as arousal took over. "What exactly are you proposing, Mr. DeLuca?" she asked innocently.

"Fuck woman, I will take whatever you are willing to give and more."

Maria grinned and kissed him again, then she whirled and stepped away from him. When he looked to follow, she held a hand up, stopping him. His brows drew into a frown at her denial and he opened his mouth, likely to demand she get her ass back into his arms, but she held her finger up and gave it a sexy little wave, telling him without words to hold on.

She reached for her shirt, perfect for this exercise since it was buttoned right up her neck in a gorgeous silk flower pattern. It was paired with a high-waisted red skirt that flirted around her thighs. She undid the buttons one at a time, swaying back and forth on her feet as though doing a striptease to music. Of course, there was no music, but it didn't matter to either of them. In that moment, it was just Nic and Maria. There was no mob boss and his mistress, no house staff, no bodyguards, no Cassandra, no Ruiz. The magic of the moment belonged to them.

She held her hands in a way that covered most of the flesh between her neck and her belly as she unbuttoned the shirt, giving him only flashes of the skin he craved. Finally, she dropped her hands and shrugged out of the shirt, she turned her back on him and allowed it to fall to the ground. She looked over her shoulder, gave him a sexy grin and reached back for the zipper on the skirt.

"You will regret teasing me, bellisima," he growled from behind her, tension and humour clear in his voice.

"Oooh, I'm so scared," she said breathily pushing her skirt down her hips and legs. She bent straight over at the waist, pushing it to her ankles before rising slowly and twitching her ass at him. She didn't need to look to catch the hitch in his breathing as she slowly revealed herself.

She reached behind and unhooked her bra, then slid the straps off her arms and let it fall onto the pile of clothes. She hooked her thumbs in the sides of her panties, but his voice stopped her. "Turn around."

She grinned into the darkness and hesitated, then he said in that commanding voice that she knew should piss her off but really just made her panties wet, "Maria, turn around right now. Don't make me come over there."

She lost the grin, arranging her face into something more sultry, and turned, slowly, letting him take in every bronzed inch of her. The patio lights were absolutely perfect for her skin, hiding any flaws while throwing enough shadows to emphasize her delicious curves. She felt like a goddess, soaking up the attention of her mortal lover.

"Come here," he demanded, his voice low and throbbing with tension.

She shook her head. "It's your turn." She pitched her voice lower, huskier, giving it a sexy drawl. "Lose the clothes, Mr. DeLuca."

He raised an eyebrow, which clearly said 'if I really wanted you over here, I could do it in a matter of seconds and you wouldn't like the results'. But he didn't act on that look, instead he gave her exactly what she wanted. His body.

Nic pulled his tie off, then his jacket, tossing them across the nearest lounger. He unbuttoned his shirt, using quick, economical movements. He was not returning Maria's striptease, and she thought about complaining, but she was having too much fun enjoying the show. Nic was a work of art on a regular day with his dark sinister good looks, but standing beside the pool, partially hidden by shadows, he was a god.

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