Page 84 of Craving Danger

I can’t wait.

I swear, the man can look likeQuasimodo fromThe Hunchback of Notre Dame,and it won’t change how I feel about him.

Chapter 27

Samantha

I’m so exhausted someone could knock me over with a feather.

After one hell of a busy day, I’m taking a quick shower, and once I’m done, I quickly dry myself and lather my skin with lotion.

I’ve chosen to wear another new dress for my mystery man, hoping he’ll like it as much as the one I wore on Sunday.

While I get dressed, my thoughts turn to work. The only good thing is Mr. Vitale hasn’t been in the office much.

The sad part is, I think I’m starting to accept he’s a mafia boss, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

I mean, on one side, the job pays really well and I’m just a PA doing regular PA work. On the other side, he’s one of the heads of the Cosa Nostra.

Ugh, why do I bother fretting about it? It’s not like I can do anything to change my situation.

After I put on a pair of ballet flats, I quickly brush my hair and swipe some mascara on my lashes.

When I walk into the living room, I see a black scarf lying on the coffee table.

The blindfold.

I glance around the apartment but don’t see my mystery man.

Walking closer, I pick up the scarf and wrap it around my head.

Jesus, I can’t see a thing. Not even a shadow.

Not even a minute passes when I hear movement. I feel someone behind me, then he murmurs, “You look breathtaking, baby.”

A smile spreads over my face. “I wore the dress for you.”

“I’m honored.”

His hands frame my jaw, and when he presses a kiss to my lips, I realize he’s not wearing the ski mask.

My excitement grows tenfold, and I start to feel downright giddy.

My mystery man (not for much longer) wraps an arm around my lower back and leads me out of my apartment.

I keep wanting to put my arms up in front of me so I can stop myself from bumping into a wall or something.

He lets out a chuckle. “Trust me.”

“If you let me walk into something, I’m going to whack you with a spatula,” I say, my tone playful.

He chuckles again, and by the time he helps me into the car, I can’t contain my excitement.

With my eyes blindfolded, I’m overly conscious of every move he makes. I smell his spicy aftershave, which has hints of wood and coffee.

During the drive to his house, he puts on some music and doesn’t try to make conversation.

I’m too excited to try and think of something to talk about, so I keep quiet, hoping the next turn we take will bring us to our destination.

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