Page 3 of Single Mom's Mafia Daddies

He trailed a fingertip along my bare shoulder and down my arm to my elbow. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Already have one.” I raised it in a mini salute. “Thanks anyway.”

“How about a dance?” He stood and held out a hand. “Be a shame not to show off that dress.”

“Maybe after I finish my drink.” I took another slow sip, using the motion to check on Alessio. He was still at the end of the bar, staring straight ahead. Damn it. Why? Why was he ignoring me? I drained the drink and held out my hand. “Let’s dance.”

I regretted my impulsive decision ten seconds later when the dude turned pushy and handsy. The song’s fast pace should have kept him away from me, but he insisted on grabbing my hips and trying to grind his pelvis into mine. I pushed his chest, forcing him back.

“Touch me without my permission again and I’ll dislocate your jaw.” My hand tightened into a fist, Dad’s lessons in self-defense roaring through me. He’d worried about sending me outinto the big, bad world alone. Being petite and curvy had its uses…and its downfalls.

He started to lean in, glanced over my shoulder, then backed away with his hands up in front of him.

Ugh. Fuck this. Fuck the party. Fuck the stupid frat boys who thought the only reason any girl would dance with them was to dry hump. I’d had enough.

I checked to make sure my keys and wallet were still in the tiny wallet strapped to my thigh and walked out the front door. So much for getting Alessio to notice me. The trees hid me from view as I made my escape, but I kept a hand on my pepper spray in case anyone else tried to take advantage.

What was the deal with these boys? Hadn’t anyone ever talked to them about consent?

I muttered under my breath all the way to the curb, then turned right to follow it to my apartment. Headlights flared behind me, the low growl of an engine screaming closer. I stopped and stepped off the sidewalk, gauging the distance back to the apartment and safety.

A sleek, black car stopped feet away, the passenger door opening to illuminate Alessio’s stunning visage. “Get in.”

I couldn’t place the tone, but the command put me in a strange predicament of wanting to run and to obey at the same time. Danger rippled around him in waves. Danger and something that set my body on fire when he turned his full attention on me.

I slid into the car.

Without missing a beat, he slammed the door shut. “Don’t ever tempt me like that again, Miss Carmichael. I amnotwhat you think.”

“Like what?” I challenged him because why the fuck not. “I didn’t do anything.” The car smelled like leather. Like luxuryand money. A deep and masculine scent that I’d never be able to forget. Again, I had that sense of somethingotherin Alessio.

His lips slammed over mine, hungry and insistent as he devoured the argument I’d been building against staying in the car. With nothing more than his lips, he convinced me to stay.

One hand cupped the back of my head, the long fingers holding me close as his tongue danced with mine. I ached for more, for all of him, and allowed that to fuel my motives as I dug my fingers into the lapels of his Armani suit. The possessive way he held me sparked a new flurry of desire. I’d had sex before, but nothing came close to the way he made me feel.

I released his lapels and stroked my hands down his chest, pulling back from the kiss. “My apartment is a mile away.”

2

ALESSIO

One night. I promised myself one night with Lila and then I’d let her go. Better to free her before my world tainted the purity of hers.

Giving into the desire pumping through me for one night was bad enough. Selfish enough. I’d never forgive myself if I allowed more.

I listened to her directions without giving her any indication that I knew where she lived, that I’d parked outside her small apartment on more than one occasion and considered walking up to knock on her door. My world in Italy had yet to cross over into the U.S., but there was always a risk, always a look over the shoulder to ensure my safety and the safety of those who walked at my side.

I pulled the Mercedes into the open spot closest to the building and motioned for Lila to stay put. She grinned, a tiny flash of a smile that might mean anything but that I took as thanks. When I rounded the car and opened her door, she peered up at me through thick lashes made darker by the moonlight. “I never understood men opening doors for women until now. It’s kind of sweet.”

I tucked her hand in the crook of my elbow and walked her up to the building entrance. “I’m anything but sweet, Lila.”

“Pretty sure I know exactly what you are.” She chuckled and unlocked the door, leading me into a dimly lit hallway with blue carpet and beige and white striped walls. It smelled like citrus and reminded me of the caretaker’s cottage in the villa with its soft colors.

I pressed my lips flat to stop the argument brewing in the back of my throat. She had no idea who I was, what I could do, or the things I’d already done. If I had any say, she’d never learn the real man I hid each and every day.

“This way.” Lila led me down the hall, to a nondescript door with a ring of daisies painted around the peep hole. Her hands remained steady as she unlocked it and led me inside.

The desire to push her against the wall and give myself over to the passion coursing through my body almost overwhelmed me. I was better than that, better than those groping boys who knew nothing about the art of lovemaking. I’d seen her reaction to the last one, her balled fist and fighting stance, and I’d stood and shook my head at the boy, the full fury of my father’s ruthless bloodline roaring into my expression and driving him away.