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We spenthours together that afternoon naked in the bedroom. After we showered, he brought us a tray of food, telling me he didn’t want me to leave his bed because he wasn’t done with me. True to his word, he proceeded to eat me once I’d eaten my fill.
We had sex and talked and even laughed. Neither of us checked our phones, giving one another our full attention. While we talked, he let me trace the intricate lines of his tattoos and told me their meanings. Aside from my name on his wrist, my favorite was a candle on his back. It was inked in relief on solid black, the light from the small flame seeming to shine through his skin. The artistry was incredible, and he told me it symbolized his Byrne family and how they were always his light in the dark.
My throat had clogged with emotion.
Conner truly did value his family in ways my father could never comprehend. Unlike the large mafia families who weren’t truly related, the Irish organization’s origins sprouted from a set of brothers and was now primarily composed of blood relations. Conner and the others weren’t as apt to face issues of conflicted loyalties because family and work were one and the same.
My Mafia ties introduced a complicating factor into his life. Mafia ties that I’d never wanted to be a part of. Did I feel the same about the Irish organization? Could we ever come to a crossroads where Conner would have to choose between me and his Irish family? If so, how would I fare in the aftermath?
I wouldn’t end up dead like my mother, but I wasn’t sure beyond that where his allegiance would fall. Hopefully, we wouldn’t ever have to find out.
When my stomach eventually began to growl again, Conner ordered me to get dressed and took us to dinner. I was reluctant to break the spell of our fairy-tale afternoon but also liked the idea of a date. Our first dinner out had been good, but this felt different. More intimate. Meaningful.
Aside from the incident when he’d first come home, the day was one of the best I could remember. My chest had a strange warmth to it as though that candle of his had somehow lit a twin flame inside me.
Buoyant from our time together and two glasses of wine, I sat back in my chair after eating and decided to ask Conner a question I’d been itching to ask.
“Why me? I assume you were presented with a number of eligible Italian ladies to choose from. Why did you pick me?”
His sapphire eyes sparked as he sipped from his wineglass. “A lot of reasons. At first, I paused on your picture because of your eyes. I grew more interested when I was immediately warned away from you because of your silence. I was … intrigued.”
“Is that when you spoke to me at the coffee shop that first time?”
He dipped his chin in confirmation. “I was told you were traumatized and wanted to see what that meant for myself.”
“And what did you find?” I asked, endlessly curious of his early thoughts about me.
“That if they thought you were traumatized, they didn’t know the meaning of the word.”
“Not mute either. You sure didn’t get what you bargained for.” I dropped my gaze, a tinge of uncertainty making me shy.
“Better to get what I needed than what I thought I wanted.” His unwavering stare stripped away my insecurities and painted me in shades of perfection.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Mr. Reid,” I said softly. “There’s a budding romantic in you somewhere.”
He swirled the last bit of wine in his glass. “Debatable, but I suppose the right woman might see my mangled efforts as sufficient, Mrs. Reid.”
Our server interrupted just in time. Had our combustible stare extended any longer, my panties might have gone up in flames smack in the middle of the restaurant.
“Is there anything else I can get you two?” The young woman flashed a wide grin, laying her hand on Conner’s shoulder. She’d been friendly throughout our meal, and while I could overlook her frequent glances in his direction because the man was freaking gorgeous, there was only so much I could allow.
“You could take your hand off my husband,” I said firmly but cordially. “Then the check, thank you.”
Her hand snapped back so quickly I’d have thought his shoulder had burned her. “Yes. Yes, ma’am. I’ll get that right away.” She scurried away, head down.
“I must say,” Conner mused. “I’d always thought a jealous woman was stifling, but you wear it well. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything hotter.”
A flush warmed my cheeks.
“I don’t like the way they all flirt with you.”
“They?” he asked, his good humor fading.
“Waitresses, the women at the club, and probably any heterosexual woman who encounters you. It’s like they can’t help themselves. I imagine that would make it easy to … well, for things to happen.” My cheeks had to be positively flaming. I couldn’t even force myself to keep eye contact.
“Look at me, Noemi,” Conner coaxed, his voice a sensual caress. He only continued once his eyes were again on mine. “I can’t speak for the men you’ve known in your life, but that shit doesn’t fly in my world. If you’re mine, I expect to be the only man in your bed; the same goes for me. If their flirting bothers you, I’ll put a stop to it. I don’t want any question in your mind as to my faithfulness.”
I swallowed back the emotion swelling in my chest like a saturated sponge. “Okay,” I breathed shakily.
