Page 69 of Nanny's Baby for the Italian Mafia Boss

Matias grabs my hand away from his. “That will never happen, Dovnic.” The deep possession in his tone has the hair on my arms standing up. He laces his fingers with me. “I can promise you; I keep Sophie satisfied ineveryway.”

I blush at his crass words, not knowing what else to say.

Dovnic’s expression says it all. He loves goading Matias. “I don’t think you’ve met my son, Dominick. The person you’ll have to deal with in our,” he ponders his words carefully, “exchanges.”

“One can only hope.”

I grip Matias’s knee. “Be nice.”

“Never,” he mutters, so no one else can hear. “Dominick. Good to meet you.”

Dovnic’s son gives a small, nervous grin, wrapping his arm around the woman next to him. He seems very young, maybe younger than me, with big brown doe eyes and blonde hair. He seems innocent, and far from someone who wants to be involved in his father’s business.

The lights dim, but I don’t miss the evil eye Dovnic’s date gives me before the entire room is confided in darkness.

Okay, but I didn’t even ask for her date’s attention. She needs to be mad athim.

Sometimes, women confuse me.

The spotlight illuminates an older man at the podium. He’s wearing a black suit with a red tie and his silver hair is slicked back with a clean-shaven face. “Thank you all for coming to the Hope Gala, where we raise money in hopes of feeding the hungry in our community.”

Everyone claps; well, everyone but Matias. He sips on his champagne as if he doesn’t believe what this man is saying at all.

“I’ll keep this short and sweet. Tonight is all about having a good time. Eat, drink, dance, and soon we will begin the art auction.” He gives a wave, exiting the stage where a large water fountain pours down behind him.

Fancy.

“He’ll give enough to feed the hungry and pocket the rest,” Matias whispers in my ear. “He is a notorious drug dealer.”

I gasp in horror. “Why are we here?”

His eyes slide to Dovnic. “Because connections are important to make in my line of work, Sweet Sophie.” His knuckles run down my chin.

His touch causes my nerves to become extra sensitive and my mouth parts, trying to remember to inhale much-needed oxygen. God, I hate how I react to him.

I hate it because I’ve come to need it, to crave it, to want it. I don’t want to go a day without it, and where will that leave me when he ends this? The fear of him leaving me is becoming stronger than the fear of him being in the mafia, which is concerning.

“You could have warned me you were going to say we were apparently getting married.” I snag my champagne and sip it.

“Where would the fun in that be? I like keeping you on your toes.”

I know he does, but then my heart hammers in my chest at the thought of being married to him. My mind runs away in a daydream of us spending our entire lives together. It makes me wish for things I have no business wishing for. I know what this is between us.

It’s temporary, like everything else in my life.

The caterers deliver an amazing meal and Matias writes a check, but I don’t see how much for. I’m chewing on my chicken when he stands to drop it in the donation box. As he walks over to me again, he looks every bit intimidating. His dark hair, sharp features, olive skin, and that black suit he is wearing, he screams danger.

But damn it, that danger is so fucking handsome.

A slow song begins to play, and he holds out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

I glance out to the dance floor, noticing one is there. “But no one is dancing, Matias.”

“So? We can be the first.” He bends down and takes my hand. “You know how much I love being your first.”

My entire body heats, remembering just how much he proclaims his love for my body. I stand, following him to the middle of the dance floor. I’ll do anything for him, even if it means dancing and most likely stepping on his feet.

“I’m not a good dancer, Matias. I don’t dance. I haven’t had many opportunities to learn.” I keep my voice down, so I don’t embarrass him.

---