Page 16 of Nanny's Baby for the Italian Mafia Boss

Even in the dark, I think I can see his eyes fall to my lips. The moonlight peeks into the windows, the shine casting against his silhouette. His shoulders are broad, shadowed by the darkness, while his chest expands with every breath he takes.

“Sweet dreams, Sophie.” He stands suddenly, his strides long and fast as he walks to the door, as if he can’t wait to get away from me.

The door eases shut, and I’m left alone.

“God,” I drone, flopping onto my back as I think about him shoving his finger into my mouth. That was so fucking hot. No one has ever been so assertive with me.

I wonder how he is in other ways. I bet women fall into his lap and his bed. My stomach turns at the thought of seeing one of the women he brings home. I’ll have to get used to the idea. He’s single, wealthy, probably the most eligible bachelor in the area. Women will probably come and go every day.

Why do I do this to myself?

I’d never have a chance with him, anyway. He’s my boss, which means he is off-limits. Still, I can be attracted to him and hide it. I have to be professional.

“Him sticking his thumb in my mouth isnotprofessional,” I grumble, rolling off the bed to change and freshen up. I strip out of my shorts and long sleeve shirt, toss them in the laundry hamper and go to the bathroom.

I rinse off the sticky sweat in the shower which only takes a minute before I’m dried off in a warm towel. The burns on my arms have me staring into the reflection of the mirror, wishing like hell they were gone. The burn scars start at my wrist, travel up my forearms, and elbows, and stop just below my bicep. I’ve had plenty of surgeries to try and make my arms look normal, but there is only so much that can be done.

Turning away from the mirror, I get dressed, then climb back into bed.

I stare at the clock glowing three thirty in the morning and I sigh, turning to my other side. Closing my eyes, I try my best to fall asleep, but the reply of Matias telling me to open my mouth plays through my mind.

My body begins to heat again and the temptation to slide my hand down my body and under my panties is a force I can barely fight. If I do this, if I orgasm to the thought of him, I won’t be able to look at him the same. Everything will be different in my mind. It’s a line I can’t cross, no matter how badly I want to cross it.

I yank the blanket to my chin and settle into the mattress, doing my best to get comfortable. I groan in frustration, tossing and turning until I look at the clock again and notice it is already six in the morning.

So much for rest.

I decide to get up, tossing the blankets off with a little bit of attitude, and throw my hair in a messy ponytail.

For the second time, I get dressed, choosing comfortable leggings and off the off-the-shoulder long-sleeve shirt. I might not show my arms, but I show my shoulders when I can. I feel cute and confident.

After rushing my teeth and washing my face, I throw on a little mascara to make my blue eyes pop, then decide to start my day.

The first thing I do is go to the kitchen and make coffee. The house is eerily quiet, which leaves me alone with my thoughts. I think about what Matias said last night. He gushed about his daughter and it’s apparent how much he loves her. The more he talked, the more we slowly leaned into one another. Every time he is near, I can’t help but to get closer to him. Despite the voice in the back of my mind that’s telling me I should be terrified of him and everything he represents, there’s a much stronger, lustful part of me that can’t keep my mind off him. It’s scary how much control he already has over me.

I was so lost in being close to him last night, listening to his love for his daughter, I forgot to speak or say anything about myself. It’s all for the best. I don’t trust the mafia, even if their leader is handsome, kind, and compassionate. The mafia had something to do with my house burning down and killing my parents. I don’t know why or who it was, but seeing as I’m from this area, there are so many people it can be.

I plan to see if Matias had anything to do with it and if he did, I’ll be crushed. Since I’m here, I might as well make the best of it, and get as much information as I can without being confrontational.

As the coffee is brewing, I begin breakfast. Scrambled eggs, fruit, and toast. I sprinkle salt, pepper, and other seasonings on the eggs with cheese, give it a good stir so the cheese melts, and make everyone’s plate.

Matias is first.

I grab a tray, filling it with breakfast, then a cup of orange juice, and his coffee. I set sugar and cream to the side since I’m not sure how he takes it. Probably black like most hardcore murderous mafia men, right?

Clearing my throat, I snag the tray and carefully go downstairs to his office where I hear him shuffling papers. Taking a breath, I knock on the door, hoping he allows me inside.

“Come in.”

“Good morning,” I say, plastering a grin on my face as I set the tray down. “I brought you breakfast.”

He looks up from his paperwork and a relaxed smile brushes past his lips, seeming genuinely happy to see me. Matias has changed from the last time I saw him, just a few short hours ago. His hair is perfectly parted, his suit is wrinkle-free, black on black with a red tie.

He seems domineering, readying himself to take on the world.

“I don’t often eat breakfast. You didn’t have to waste your time,” he says, whisking the wind right from under my sails.

Not wanting to back down, I straighten my spine. I severely hope he doesn’t take this the wrong way. “You’ll start your day with breakfast. I won’t take no for an answer.”

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