Page 7 of The Boss's Revenge

His mouth was so close to mine, and his breath scorched my lips, making me shiver. I wanted to press myself against him, bare flesh and all. I wanted him to touch me, and make the monsters go away. He pulled back suddenly, as if rememberinghimself, and the cold air that rushed in in his absence was like a slap. Get a grip, Kira.

“It wasn’t a choice.” I was proud of how steady my voice was, as I called after him. He was on his way out of the kitchen, leaving me where I stood, pressed against the counter, holding on for dear life. He paused just for a second. “It was desperation. A call for help, before drowning.”

His pause only lasted a millisecond, and he never looked at me, but from the tightness in his shoulders, I knew he’d heard me. He walked away, leaving me in the dark.

CHAPTER 5

Rocco

Iran through my routine on zero hours of sleep and barely noticed. Anger fueled me. I was pissed off at Kira, Vincenzo and Omer, who clearly had a death wish.

Most of all, Kira had a huge question mark over her, and the fact that she wouldn’t tell me the truth, despite dragging me down with her, was pissing me off more than anything else. Her soft words haunted me as I lifted weights and sweated through my t-shirt.

“It was desperation. A call for help, before drowning.”

I dropped the heavy weights to the floor after my last set and sank down on the bench to catch my breath. Clearly, Kira thought I was a sucker for a bleeding heart. She had a surprise coming. I might not be the capo of the family, but I’d learned at my brother’s elbow how to be ruthless and those weren’t lessons that were easily forgotten.

As I stared out at the city, I thought over the different ways all this could go. Either she wasn’t pregnant, in which case, another test would reveal that. I should make her take one this very morning. If she was, then the paternity test would reveal that I wasn’t the father, either way, all roads lead to Kira being returned to her father. Now I’d met him, I could see whyshe was reluctant to go home with him. Still, she wasn’t my responsibility.

I got up, and texted Alberto on my phone, asking him to visit the pharmacy for me, and then headed to the kitchen. I stopped in the doorway. Kira stood on tiptoe, her long legs bare, and the borrowed oversized t-shirt she had presumably worn to sleep a few hours in, rose up, revealing the curve of her ass. She was reaching up to a high cupboard, her slender fingers brushing against a mixing bowl.

I was behind her before I could question the wisdom of it. I reached over her, my sweaty, hard body pressing against her back, as I took the bowl off the top shelf with ease. She stiffened at the contact.

“Here, try not to destroy my kitchen,” I muttered, bringing the bowl down in front of her. She took it with both hands. I didn’t move, and neither did she. What was it about this woman that drew me in so effortlessly? She’d been terrible to me. Cutting my face, trying to trap me, embarrassing me in front of my capo, and most of all, lying to me so much and so easily I had no idea what the truth might be, and yet, when she stood so close, her light, vanilla scent tickling my nose, I forgot it all.

“I was going to make pancakes, if you wanted them,” she said quietly, turning slightly and brushing against me with her hip. I was hard, I realized dimly, as her body pressed against mine. Somehow, despite everything between us, or maybe because of it, I’d never wanted a woman more than this one. I wanted to school her smart mouth and teach her some manners. I wondered what it be like to give her my name and keep her safe.

I reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, unable to stop myself. But I couldn’t forget that she was playing me, and I still had no idea what her true intentions were.

“Did you think that playing housewife would endear you to me? Enough to keep you?” I murmured, as my hand slid downher hair, past her ear, to the soft column of her neck. I circled it, pressing lightly at the sides. She stared at me, unafraid. What did it take to rattle this woman’s composure? It seemed only her father merited a real response.

“Maybe. I’m a really good cook,” she said flatly.

Her unexpected answer took me off guard, and I chuckled, I couldn’t stop myself. “I’m starting to think you might be a little crazier than I thought,” I admitted, dropping my hand, just as the buzzer at the door went.

Kira flinched as if she’d been struck, and something purely instinctive and male moved to shield her before I pulled myself together.

“It’s only Alberto,” I told her, stepping away. I couldn’t get too close. She was dangerous to my mental health, clearly. “He’s got a present for you.”

She looked at me warily, as I went to the door to let my second-in-command in.

He passed me the brown paper bag, peering around me to see Kira.

“Go,” I said flatly, more than aware of everything she wasn’t wearing. Alberto gave me a look that told me my possessiveness wasn’t unnoticed, and left.

Kira took the bag from me, her hand crinkling the paper. Her expression told me she knew exactly what was in it.

“I think it’s time we clear up at least one of the lies you’ve been telling, this morning. Let’s go,” I said shortly.

She scowled at me. “What? You’re going to watch me take a test?”

“Sure am. Unfortunately, you can’t be trusted.”

She stalled as I herded her toward the bathroom. “I don’t need to go right now,” she shot out.

“I’m sure you can manage,” I told her.

“I can’t! Please!” It was the please that shook me. This proud, deadly woman, suddenly reduced to pleading was a sobering sight. Her words returned to me again.

---