Page 64 of Mafia Obsession

“In New York, I don’t take time for any pleasures.” He shifts in his seat, looking tense. “Not really. Not much lately.”

“Because of me?” I sip a glass of water from a clear jug that tastes so fresh, it’s hard to believe I’m still on planet Earth.

“Yes.” He watches for my reaction. “I’m so hoping you are worth the wait.”

After we finish eating, he leads me around the kitchen to a narrow staircase leading to the second floor, its walls made of stone.

“After you,” Ares says, signaling for me to walk ahead.

I climb, and at the top of the stairs, a bedroom opens up. There’s no hallway, no door, but it’s not guarded or locked down.

White sheets are pulled tight across a wide bed. It’s so enormous and inviting. It looks larger than a king-size.

The sumptuous bed is surrounded by pale gray wood furniture. Metal louvre doors open to a private balcony overlooking the sea. Getting my bearings, I note that we are now on the other side of the house.

A pile of women’s clothing sits on a raw silk chaise in the corner of the room. Dresses in neutral silks. Tailored linen trousers. Soft flowing blouses. Shoeboxes with understated heels. Classy and conservative. Just as he promised.

Ares catches my gaze. “There should be more than enough clothes for you. If not, or if anything is not to your liking…”

“Your house manager will buy me others?”

Ares strokes a hand under my chin. “No. I will.”

That gives me chills.

With a shallow breath, I ask, “Where is my suitcase?”

“It will be brought up.” Ares moves closer again, slow anddeliberate. “If there’s anything else in New York that holds value to you, tell me right now. It will be brought here, too.”

My mind flashes again to the boxes in my closet with my father’s things. David is still MIA at the moment. I glance out the window. There’s zero chance he’ll show up here.

I want my father’s boxes secured, but I don’t want to be lugging them around the world. I have to trust they’ll still be in the apartment when I get home.

Home…

Can I still call a place where Ares killed men who wanted to take me to some overlord in Westchester home?

“I need nothing else right now,” I say, growing confident. “I trust you’ll take good care of me.”

“Completely,” he says and cradles my face. “And in every way you’ll allow me. I’ve waited patiently for this. Like a gentleman. When you give me permission to touch you, it won’t be very gentlemanly.”

The confession hums in the air between us. But his sharp tone doesn’t sound romantic. He’s territorial. He will never be a lovesick puppy. He’s a guard dog staking claim to a bone.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be afraid of what I want to do to your body.” His grip tightens. “Then you will be sorry for what you can unleash in me.”

The only terrifying part is that I’ve wanted him all this time, too. It wasn’t my vows that kept the fantasies away. It was my focus on Sandrine. And that a man like Ares at forty-two who hasn’t settled down by now, probably never will.

“And if I resist? Even to…tease you?” I say, pulling back.

His eyes darken with feral lust. “You may tease me all you want, but understand, I enjoy dispensing discipline.”

Heat climbs up my spine before I can stop it. “With the rope?”

He grins, showing teeth. “You’re not ready for that.”

A beat passes between us, and I don’t look away.