Page 9

Serafino

M y emotions were in tatters, my mind whirling as I entered my walk-in closet with Delilah. Be careful what you wish for, a voice taunted inside my head.

My stare returned to the woman who’d turned my life upside down. Not that I was complaining. If my life had become jaded, it was now bright and full of color and life.

I blew out a breath as I dressed into casual gray pants and a cream polo shirt. After buckling on my chest holster, I pushed in my gun before shoving my arms into the sleeves of an informal gray jacket that helped to conceal my weapon.

She arched a brow as she pulled on the same white pants and leopard print top she’d worn earlier from our visit to the little boutique. “Did you realize you were staring at me the whole time you were getting dressed?”

I shrugged. “It’s hard not to.”

Her green eyes warmed. “You know how to make a woman feel good.”

I smirked. “I certainly hope so.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to hope. When you’re not tearing me in half every time we have sex, you’re given me glorious orgasms.”

It was my turn to arch an eyebrow. “Tearing you in half? Is that what is called a backhanded compliment?

She giggled. “Maybe? But glorious orgasms are high praise.”

I was smiling when I clasped her hand and walked with her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. That she’d discarded her heels and chose to stay barefooted made me realize just how much I towered next to her. Did she feel intimidated? I imagined women in her profession needed to grasp every advantage they could get, including height.

I picked up my cell from the kitchen bench and said, “Give me one minute to order a light lunch. How does an antipasto sound?”

“Wonderful,” she conceded.

After making the call, I brought her out onto the balcony. Though I’d never feared death, having men shot dead in my own home was a memory I preferred not to dwell on. I’d always kept my work and private life separate, but their coldblooded deaths had encroached on that and impacted the tranquility of my home.

I was only glad I was in the position to compensate the deceased soldiers’ families. Not that any amount of money could replace a loved one, I’d learned that when my oldest brother, Nico had been executed.

Locking that memory away once again, I pressed a button on the wall next to the bifold doors, bullet proof glass then rising from behind the railings. At her puzzled look, I explained, “We’re protected out here now.”

“Is that a new addition?” she asked, nodding at the glass.

“It is,” I acknowledged. “I’ve added a few extra precautions.”

She sat on the chair I drew out for her. I chose the one opposite, wanting to drink in her gorgeous green eyes, her full lower lip and the sweet bowed top, her wide brow and flawless cheekbones that were highlighted by her blazing red hair she’d pulled back into a messy bun.

I could so easily fall for her.

My breath caught in my throat, my heart rate surging into a gallop as I examined the idea and allowed it to expand inside my head. Was love truly a possibility for someone like me?

No. Have you forgotten? You’re a killer, a madman. You’re not deserving of any woman’s heart. Nor do you want her to crush yours.

If she was aware of my heightened emotions she didn’t show it. She began talking, her soothing voice soon settling my equilibrium and bringing forth words that I rarely voiced. She was an enigma; she made me want to contribute to the conversation, made me want to articulate the thoughts in my head.

My family would have been fascinated to see me like this. I’d always been the spectator, the silent but focused one. I rarely discussed my thoughts or feelings, rarely showed anything at all beyond my ability to kill or my primitive need for sex.

“So what about your mother?” she asked. “I mean, I’ve heard a little about your father but nothing about the woman who raised you.”

I flinched, the feelings flooding through me still too raw to confront. I cleared my throat as I gathered myself and said softly, “She was wonderful. I don’t doubt for a minute she regretted marrying a man who showed her such little love or affection. Though she was surrounded by materialistic things, I think her children were all she cared about. We were everything to her.”

“Were?” she repeated. “So you’ve lost both your parents?”

I nodded, my voice growing tight. “She developed young onset dementia and lost her memory very quickly. Dad didn’t tolerate weakness. He locked her away.” I’d never forget the men who’d came and forced her out of her own home. My hands curled into fists. “We never even got to visit her before she died.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, obviously appalled as she stared wide-eyed at me, then reached across to clasp my hand and give it a squeeze. “That must have been terrible for everyone, including your mother.”

I nodded, the memories I’d stuffed into a padlocked part of my brain resurfaced with scratching, maddening precision. “She must have wondered, in her times of lucidity, why we’d abandoned her.”

Delilah’s hand tightened on mine, her eyes big shimmering pools of green. “Your father really was a monster.”

I nodded. “Many say Nico—the brother who is no longer with us—took after him.” I held her stare. “Others say I’m the most like him.”

“I never met your father, and though I don’t doubt for a minute you have a darker side I’ve yet to really see, I think it is your mother you take after.”

She meant it. I could see it in the gentle way she spoke, in the grip she still had on my hand, and in the way she leaned closer, like she wanted to share my suffering, dilute it.

“Thank you,” I managed.

Did she have any idea how good she made me feel?

My mother had been a wonderful woman, too caring and gentle for the lifestyle my father—her husband—had expected her to tolerate, but even she’d looked at me sometimes with concern, like she feared for what I was becoming.

The elevator suddenly pinged, its doors opening to reveal one of the white-coated chefs I employed. He pushed out a cart that held a large platter, along with a bottle of whiskey I’d ordered and two crystal glasses. Once he was out on the balcony, he transferred everything down in front of us.

“Thank you, Romeo.”

The chef nodded respectfully before glancing at Delilah opposite me. His eyes widening, I cleared my throat and said, “That will be all.”

“ Naturalmente ,” Romeo said apologetically, before he backed away and hurried to the waiting elevator.

I smirked, amusement winning out over the spark of ire Romeo’s interest had induced. “I think he likes you.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Does it bother you that he could have me for a price?”

My lips thinned as the spark of ire burst into a bonfire. It took everything I had not to allow it to become a wildfire. I poured the whiskey into two glasses, then took a deep gulp of my own. “You probably already know the answer to that.”

She winced. “You’re probably right.” She nodded at the antipasto. “This looks delicious.”

I focused on our lunch. She was right, it did. I scanned the cheeses, the cured meats, the olives and grapes, the cherry tomatoes and pickled onions, the blistered capsicum and dry crackers. My inner fire finally cooling off somewhat, I cleared my throat and said, “Let’s not waste it.”

“Let’s not.” She plucked a cracker off the platter, then added some cured meat, cheese and an olive on top before she popped it into her mouth.

I grabbed a bit of everything and chewed, suddenly ravenous once I started.

She giggled as she reached for her whiskey and took an appreciative sip. “Great sex really does create a great appetite.”

“Then I’d better order ten more antipastos.”

Her expression heated. “Perhaps I was your entrée?’

“You were my Almas caviar and my white truffles, my finest cuisine and delicacy all rolled into one.”

Her lips pulled into a smile as she extended her leg and lifted her foot beneath the table, reaching between my thighs to rub my arousal. “And you were my beast in the bedroom.”

My dick jerked and thickened, my voice a growl as I said, “You’ll see the real beast if you keep playing with me like that.”

“Oh?” she breathed, her eyes wide and innocent. “What might you do?”

“Other than fuck you against the bulletproof glass where anyone could see us?”

“There’s more?” she asked breathlessly.

“How about the entire block hearing your screams of ecstasy as I make you come?”

She stilled her foot’s circular motion. “Is it bad that you’re making me drenching wet?”

“Is it good that I’m big enough to take advantage of your lubrication?” I countered.

Her smile widened. “I like this game.”

“Who said it was a game?’

“So you’d actually consider fucking me in public?”

“If there were no children around—yes.”

She sighed fitfully. “Let’s not give them an X-rated show.”

I cocked a brow. “Then we’ll come back out here tonight, when no one can see us.”

“It doesn’t matter who hears us?”

“That depends on how loud you scream.”

“Maybe you’ll be the one making all the noise,” she pointed out.

I grinned, even as my dick hardened to concrete. “Maybe.”

I couldn’t wait to find out.