Page 63 of The One Night Match
Because my mother is scary as fuck when she’s mad, and almost every man in the organization would agree.
She sighs and glances into the living room, where Riley is dozing on the couch with Kevin and Mr. Whiskers. The two animals have a temporary truce happening, and I, for one, am glad because that cat’s hisses raise my blood pressure, thinking he’s coming after me.
Riley’s still on concussion watch despite the doctor being almost certain she doesn’t have one, which means it’s going to be a long night.
“Don’t you think the timing of this is a little convenient? Like maybe they want you to do something rash like cancel the ball?”
I consider her for long moments. I’m not known for making decisions without thinking through the potential outcomes. It’s how I’ve survived for as long as I have, despite having half my organization trying to take me out since the moment I took my position at the top. But she’s right. Canceling the ball is a knee-jerk reaction, and it lays all my cards on the table.
It proves once and for all that Riley is my Achilles heel, which will, in turn, put her in more danger.
“You might have a point.”
“Of course I have a point. You’d think after thirty years you’d be used to your mother being right.”
“You just don’t want all your hard work to go to waste.” I chuckle, bringing my glass of whiskey to my lips. I wouldn’t normally drink when we’re on high alert like this, but I need something to take the edge off, something to stop me from locking Riley in the panic room until the threat is dealt with, where nothing and no one can hurt her.
“There is that.” She tips her wine glass toward me before taking a drink herself. “So tell me, how are things going with your beautiful wife?”
“Things are…good. Riley has some hang-ups about Mafia life, as I’m sure you can appreciate, but I think we’re coming out the other side.”
Mom watches me for long seconds, amusement playing in her eyes. “You love her.”
I open my mouth to deny it, because there’s no way I could feel something so strong for someone so soon after meeting her. And yet I know without a shadow of a doubt that if I say those words, they’ll be a lie. What I feel for Riley is anything but rational, so it’s not hard to make the stretch to love.
She chuckles, taking another sip of wine. “You deserve to be happy, Cruz. If Riley is what makes you happy, then hold on to her as tight as you can and love her like she deserves to be loved.”
I drain my glass and shove myself to my feet, moving into the living room where Riley gives me a sleepy smile. “You ready for bed, Kitten?”
THIRTY-THREE
RILEY
Consciousness comes to me slowly, my aching head all the evidence I need of the events that transpired yesterday.
I fully expected to spend the whole night waking up from nightmares, but instead I slept soundly. Apart from the three times Cruz woke me up to make sure I didn’t have a concussion.
Each time I cursed him out, and each time he just smiled at me like I was the most amusing thing in the world.
Something changed between us yesterday.
Or maybe just something in me changed.
I’ve spent the weeks I’ve been here trying to concoct every plan under the sun for how I can get Cruz to let me go, but until yesterday, I hadn’t let myself consider that this thing between us could work.
It’s not like there aren’t emotions between us, because there are. I feel for him more than I’ve ever felt for anyone else, and while that terrifies me to my very core, it also provides me with a warm feeling in my chest that not even being run off the road and chased can stifle.
I’m dragged into Cruz’s hard body, and he lets out a rough groan.
I fell asleep almost as soon as he laid me down and tucked the covers around me, which means until this very second, I didn’t realize he came to bed naked. Which means his very hard cock is currently pressed against my ass, making my core clench greedily.
Jesus. I went years without having sex, and now one hot-as-sin Mafia boss walks into my life, and my libido decides it’s time to party?
As if he can read my mind, he rolls his hips, dragging a gasp from my throat and a chuckle from his.
“Are you feeling needy this morning, Kitten?”
“No,” I reply too quickly.
