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My brows raised in surprise.
“You didn’t seem like a soaking bathtub kind of guy,” I quipped.
He gave a shrug of one shoulder. “Alex’s father installed them when he bought out the four penthouse apartments in this building. Not gonna lie, I’ve enjoyed using it occasionally.”
“Occasionally? That’s it?” I scoffed. “With how cold it gets in the winter in this city, I’d be using it all the time.”
He glanced up at me with a smoldering look. “I’m starting to see the real advantage to having one now,” he said, giving me a slow perusal that left a blaze flickering over every inch he touched with his gaze.
“If he bought all four penthouse apartments, then he’d planned to install you here, along with his three sons. He must have loved you very much,” I mused.
“Not to the extent he loved Alex and Nicu, but he certainly treated me better than Luca.” His eyes turned pitch black, like a starless sky during a thunderous night.
“Now, every penthouse has a fiancée or wife installed inside,” he noted, heavy with intention. Was he suggesting he wanted to install me in here as his fiancée? The thought had my tummy flip-flopping.
He pulled open a drawer beneath the sink and took out a small pair of scissors. Catching a lock of my hair, he asked, “May I?”
I gave him a smug smile and teased, “You want a lock of my hair?”
He nodded solemnly.
I gave a little one-shouldered shrug, even if heat suffused my chest, and I swooned at the gesture. Tatum, so steady and stoic, surprised me with the intimacy of his request.
“Sure.”
He tugged one wavy lock, clipped it, and left the bathroom. From the counter, I leaned over slightly to watch him pull an antique locket out of his nightstand drawer, carefully curl the lock of hair inside, snap it shut, and return it to its place.
My heart pitter-pattered with unexpected delight, but feeling suddenly bashful in his presence, I resumed the thread of our conversation as if the hair-clipping had never happened. “Every penthouse but this one. How is it you’ve avoided marriage at your age?”
He gave my inner thigh a light pinch. “Hey, I’m not old.”
“You’re over thirty,” I noted. “An unmarried consilier in his thirties is a unicorn.”
He gave a little self-deprecating shrug. “One of the advantages of being in my position. I have enough power to carve out my own life…for the most part. My mother would never impose on me, and Alex treats me like a partner. A run-of-the-mill mafie virgin couldn’t handle my brand of fucking. I may have clout, but not enough to marry an outsider like Alex and Nicu did, so I waited until a gorgeous, strong mafie woman bulldozed her way into my life and swept me off my feet. After torturing me for months, that is,” he finished with a wink.
I placed a hand on his upper arm and squeezed. “I’m sorry about that.”
His eyes flashed. “Don’t be. How would l know you were so strong if I didn’t test you?”
I snorted. “I don’t know how much testing you were doing. I attacked you from the get-go.”
He caressed my cheek. “It happened the way it was meant to happen. I’m not like other mafie men. We’ve been socialized to seek out a meek, virginal woman, but my soul would’ve shriveled up if I’d been forced into marriage with an immature girl like that. I’d rather be alone and not fuck—”
“You didn’t fuck?”
He sat on the edge of the tub and explained, “Except for the occasional breaks when I dropped in at an exclusive sex club to get it out of my system, I refrained. What was the point? I was focused on my job, and I didn’t want complications. I wasn’t opposed to relationships, but I wasn’t about to be saddled with a woman who wasn’t better than I am. ’Cause I don’t need my equal, baby. I need a woman who’s above me, who drives me to be better, stronger, sharper.”
“I don’t know if I’m anything like that…,” I hedged.
He made a little harumph sound. “Modesty isn’t a good look on you, Queenie. You’re ten times stronger than I am. Quicker. Smarter. Finding you was like finding a diamond in the Sahara Desert. One in a billion. I know a gem when I see one. My pride got in my way for a stretch of time there, but now that I’ve had a taste of this,” he said as he cupped my pussy, “I’m never letting you go.”
His hand skimmed down and curled around my thigh, thick olive-skinned fingers completely encompassing my leg. He slid down until he shackled my ankle and brought it up to rest on the edge of the marble sink, exposing me to him.
“And oh, so sweet-tasting and pink. I couldn’t have asked for a better bitch if I’d conjured her up myself. You’ve surpassed all my expectations of the woman I thought I wanted.”
He dropped down to his knees.
My breath stuttered in my chest.
