AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I turned toward the stove, exhaling and allowing a slight smile.
The slightest of sounds indicated he was following through with what I asked. As I prepared plates, adding some grated Romano cheese to the dishes, he never said a single word. But he was watching me, his heated eyes raking every action. At least I didn’t see chastisement in his gaze, only curiosity. He knew nothing about me.
Then again, I had no clue about his current life other than what Mike had told me on fleeting occasions. And suddenly, I wanted to pepper him with questions, learning every detail about his past and his plans for the future. It was silly, just another cringing moment that I should run from, but what else were we supposed to talk about?
Before we were seated, he refilled my wine, pouring a glass for himself. Then he sat down stiffly, which made me laugh. “You really don’t bring food into your house. Do you?” I yanked my napkin into my lap, secretly enjoying how uncomfortable he was sitting across from me at the table.
“I work long hours, often sleeping on couches or lounge chairs near my clients. That forces me to grab a bite to eat. When I do bring food home, it’s almost always takeout,” he said, half laughing after his admittance.
“Have you cooked a single meal in your house?”
He lifted his eyebrows as he studied the silverware, picking up the tablespoon as if I’d selected an icepick for him to use. “I did try and cook eggs once.”
“How did that turn out?” I grabbed my fork and the same type of spoon, twirling pasta on the surface. As I suspected he would, he watched what I was doing, his brow wrinkling before he tried the technique. I was surprised the man was nourished at all.
“Let’s just say I tossed the eggs and the pan in the trash.”
Laughing, I waited until he took a bite before doing the same, my stomach flipflopping all over again from the way his face lit up.
“This is incredible,” he muttered, his mouth still full.
It was a rare moment where the compliment was exactly what I needed and so heartfelt that goosebumps popped down my arms. “Thank you.”
He swallowed loudly, immediately reaching for his wine, taking a glug. That was the only way to describe his action. He was all male, not the kind of man who would hide behind pretentiousness even with food. If he enjoyed something, he feasted.
The thought brought an especially dirty group of images to my mind. My legs spread wide open on the table, his face buried in my pussy. I had to look away for fear he’d notice the blush cresting across my jaw.
“You’re an amazing cook. Thank you for making dinner. Now I know what home-cooked food tastes like.”
“Wow. Your girlfriends never cooked for you?”
His face didn’t exactly cloud over but I could tell it was a sore spot. “As I told you, I don’t have a girlfriend and have no plans of taking one.”
“Taking? Is that what you do, take what you want?”
When he lifted his head, momentarily ceasing chewing his food, I was thrown by the intensity of his eyes, the slight darkness that felt all consuming. His answer was succinct and made my heart flutter all over again.
“Yes.”
Whew. The man could create an explosive wave of heat with a single word. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
We both concentrated on our food for a few minutes, allowing the music I’d selected to do the talking for us. What I hated more than anything was the constant tension that surrounded us, a forcefield that would prevent us from truly getting to know each other. Perhaps that was for the best. I had no plans of remaining in LA, although even if he managed to stop Dante from killing me, I knew better than to think I could return to Vegas.
It suddenly dawned on me that the only way to stop a mafia kingpin was to kill him.
And the self-appointed knight in shining armor would be the one to end his life.
I sat back, the realization hitting me harder than I would have anticipated. Why would it bother me if Dante was killed in the process? That’s what mafia leaders did. Right? They battled and only the strongest survived. A pit formed in the base of my stomach and I suddenly felt sick.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
He wouldn’t like what I had to say. Suddenly, I blurted out a question I knew would anger him, but I couldn’t stop myself. “How did you go from being a decorated Marine saving countless lives to being a monster killing innocent people on the street?”
I could tell instantly the question hit him hard. He sat back against the chair, tilting his head and never blinking as he reached for his wine. “Is that what you think?”
“Yes.”
It was easy to tell he was contemplating not only his answer but mulling over the challenge I’d presented. Several seconds ticked by and I anticipated he’d explode in anger from challenging his reputation as well as every decision he’d made. When he leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table and looking me directly in the eyes, I was taken aback by the heat he generated as well as his intense focus.
