Page 3 of Lies like Rubies, Part One

Was he hitting on me? God, I wanted to flirt back, to pretend I wasn’t camping out in his office waiting for my four-year-old’s father to get bored and leave the building. I wanted to imagine I wasn’t the youngest child of one of Yorkfield’s oldest mafia families, that I was anyone other than Sofia fucking Russo.

But I couldn’t.

I drew my shoulders back, gathered myself, letting a neutral expression cover my face, and dropped my phone into my bag.

“I’m Sofia Russo.” I held out my hand, continuing the silly game, the illusion that neither of us knew who the other was.

He took my hand in his, shaking it firmly, keeping us connected. Sparks flew where our skin touched.

“Nicolò Lombardi.”

ALombardi. Jesus, I was making a fucking mess.

The last thing I needed was to get involved with someone from another mafia family in Yorkfield, even if the Lombardi’s were only loosely affiliated with organized crime these days.

We stared at each other for a moment, and not for the first time, I wished my life had been different, that I’d met this kind and handsome man under different circumstances. I entertained a fantasy of dating, of feverish bodies tangled up in sheets, of a future together. We held each other’s eyes for a charged moment, and then I slammed the door on the breathless and totally inappropriate need that shot through me. I pulled my hand out of his.

“Doctor Lombardi—”

“Please, call me Nick,” he interrupted.

I gave him my fake-for-company smile. “Thank you for your help, Nick. I think we have an appointment for a wellness visit with you, but…” I trailed off. “Maybe another day. Is there a place where Lizzie and I can wait for a few hours?”

His eyes hardened. “Who was that man?”

The smile on my face didn't falter for one moment, even though my heart welled up in my throat.

“Lizzie’s father. It’s a long story, and I just need a place to wait until this evening. He’ll lose interest, and I’ll drive myself home.”

Nick ran his hand over his face. “How ‘bout this? Stay as long as you need. When you’re ready, I’ll take you out the back door and drive you home. You can come back and get your car tomorrow.”

I looked at Lizzie, who’d need a snack and a nap in short order.

He touched my elbow, just enough pressure to get my attention. “Hey, it’s fine. She’s fine. Let her play, relax, and forget the terror from earlier. I’ll take you home at the end of the day, and we can reschedule her appointment for another time.”

“Okay,” I whispered. This man’s warmth and calm confidence made me want to burrow into his arms and let him tell me everything would be okay. It wouldn’t be. Despite that, the fact that he didn’t blink an eye when a desperate woman snuck into his office looking for sanctuary from her stalker baby-daddy made me feel better.

“Good.”

Between appointments, Nick stopped in the office to bring Lizzie snacks from the office kitchen, a bag of vending machine chips and muffins one of his colleagues had brought in that morning, never intending for them to feed a voracious four-year-old who desperately needed a nap.

Eventually, Lizzie fell asleep on the couch, exhausted from the afternoon’s fright, excited about the change in routine, and guaranteed to be a nightmare that night. She was safe, though. All the rest paled in comparison to that crucial fact.

As the day waned, Nick returned to his office to do paperwork. He observed her, his gaze pensive, his fingers steepled in thought. His blond hair fell over his eyes, startling pools of emerald. My fingers ached to skim across the stubble on his jawline and push his hair out of his face.

Stop, Sofia. You graduate in two months. You have a four-year-old who needs every bit of your attention when you’re not at school. Your kid’s baby-daddy is stalking you. The Lombardis think they’re better than us because they don’t get their hands dirty.

The litany of reasons I shouldn’t indulge in this attraction went on and on.

Nick caught me staring at him. I didn’t blush—that would give away too much. I fought the urge to bite my bottom lip—that would give away too much too. Instead, I held his gaze, watching as his brow furrowed and his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

My breath caught in my throat, softly but not softly enough to escape his notice.

Shit.Sofia, this is a terrible idea, I chastised myself, even as I stared at his full lips, the way his hair fell over his eyes, the faint flush of his cheeks.

I took a deep, cleansing breath.

He kept his eyes on me, then shook his head with a wry smile, as if he’d had the same internal conversation.

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