Defying Her Mafioso

by Terri Anne Browning

  I heard a soft huff leave her and shot her a smirk. She shook her head, making her hair fall forward. “He’ll have the penne with the arrabbiata sauce,” she told the waiter, but her eyes were glued to my face. “Heavy on the arrabbiata or he will probably send it back.”

  “Good choices.”

  We didn’t even spare him another look, too lost in each other’s eyes to care. She knew me better than anyone on the planet. Better than my mother, my best friend—better than I even knew myself at times. It had scared me once upon a time, now it just made me glad that she hadn’t given up on me. On us.

  The waiter left and I leaned forward, pushing her hair back from her face. The silky tresses clung to my fingers, the look in her eyes daring me to come closer, her lips begging to be kissed. I gave her what she wanted, savoring the taste of her lip gloss for a moment before forcing myself to pull away.

  Her lashes lifted after a moment, her lips slightly swollen from our kiss. “Those are becoming addicting.”

  “Becoming?” I shook my head. “No, vita mia. They already are.”

  The waiter returned with the bottle of wine. He poured me a small sample, I tasted it, then I gave a nod of approval before he poured us both a glass of the red wine. After he left again, Scarlett sat quietly in her chair, making me wonder what was on her mind.

  “Talk to me,” I urged, wanting to hear her voice.

  She smiled. “What would you like to talk about?”

  I shrugged. “Anything. Nothing. Whatever you want.”

  She picked up her wine glass, took a small sip, then a larger swallow. “Did my father tell you he called me into his office this morning?”

  I stiffened. “No,” I gritted out, dread filling my chest. “He didn’t mention it.”

  “He asked me the craziest question, and then I remembered something you said to me when I was in the hospital and it all made a weird kind of sense.” She took another sip, then put her glass down. I clenched my hands on the table, waiting for her answer, dreading it. “I told him no, Ciro. As pissed as I am at Santino for what happened to me, I have better things to think about than daydreaming about how I might kill him if given the chance.”

  Hell. I’d been holding my breath, waiting on Vito to offer his daughter the option of killing Jr herself. I’d thought she was too much of a little hothead to turn him down, but fuck, I was glad that I’d been wrong.

  I lifted a hand, cupped her cheek. “Thank you. You don’t know how relieved I am right now.”

  She turned her head, pressing her lips into my palm. “Don’t thank me. I just don’t care enough to want to be the one to put a bullet in him. I’d much rather save it for Volkov.” Her eyes narrowed as she thought about the Russian. “Can you arrange that?”

  “Afraid not, baby. For all his faults, the guy comes in handy at times.” I winked when she only glowered at me. “One day you’ll thank me for keeping him alive.”

  “Doubtful,” she muttered, reaching for her wine again.

  The waiter brought us salad and breadsticks. She picked at the fresh tomatoes and basil salad topped with thickly sliced mozzarella, lost in her own thoughts. I knew she was missing her sister and her dislike of Volkov grew more and more every day she and Victoria were apart. I hated seeing her so lost without her other half, but in the long run, I knew it would be good for both sisters to have a little time apart. Especially for Victoria, who Cristiano had confided in me was slowly drawing into herself. Apparently the happy twin was no longer the carefree butterfly she’d always been. Now she was moody and distant.

  The food arrived moments later and her angry pout was replaced with a sigh of pure bliss as she dug into her favorite meal. I barely tasted the spicy arrabbiata as I watched her enjoy her food. Those happy little moans that she probably wasn’t even aware she was making as she dipped a breadstick into her sauce went straight to my dick.

  Only when she’d had her fill did she speak to me again. Wiping her mouth, she asked the question I’d promised her an answer to earlier. “If this date isn’t about sending me away, then tell me what it really is about.”

  I took her hand, stroked my thumb over her fingers, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “It’s about new beginnings. Our new beginning, vita mia. Tonight you are mine and I’m yours. This date is only the start of our lives together.”

  Her face softened. “Ciro—”

  I leaned forward, brushed a soft kiss over her lips to stop whatever she might have said. “We were made for each other and I was too stupid to accept that. I will give you the world, Scarlett. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. Because you are my life.”

  Tears filled her eyes, gutting me. “That sounds oddly close to a marriage proposal,” she whispered.

  “It is.” I reached into my pants pocket and pulled out the little box that had been weighing me down all day. I’d wanted to wait for this part after we’d had dessert, but I couldn’t. I’d waited too long already. Setting it on the table, I watched her face as she looked down at it. She swallowed hard, the pulse at the base of her throat racing like a bullet train, mimicking my own. “I’ve wasted years of our lives. I won’t waste another minute. Be my wife.”

  I sucked in a harsh breath when she just continued to stare at the little black box, not so much as blinking. I hadn’t been nervous about doing this because I knew it was the only path for us. I hadn’t sweat buckets when I’d told her father what I had planned for her tonight. I hadn’t freaked out wondering if she would say yes or not when I’d picked up the ring inside that damn little box she was so focused on right then. No, it was right now, right that very second, that the doubts and the nerves were starting to eat at my sanity.

  “Fuck, Scarlett, please say you’ll marry me.” I had never begged for anything in my life until right then and there. I didn’t care who saw or heard. I would fall at her feet and beg with everything inside of me if that was what she wanted.

  Her head shot up then, the smallest smile teasing at her lips, but she was shaking her head. “You left out three words, Ciro.”

  I tightened my hold on her fingers, my heart trying to beat right out of my chest. What? Three words? Three…words. I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against hers. “I love you. I always have. I always will. In this life and the next.”

  “That’s more than three words,” she softly chided.

  My heart was going to explode if she didn’t give me an answer. “Scarlett, I will get on my knees right here and now if that’s what you want. Just please, say yes.”

  She pulled back until her brown eyes met mine. “Yes, Ciro. I’ll marry you.”

  A lump filled my throat, cutting off my ability to breathe for a moment. That look in her eyes that said without words she loved me, that soft smile on her lips as she said ‘yes’ again and then again. She was all I’d ever wanted and she was giving herself completely over to me in that moment.

  Chapter 20

  Scarlett

  I felt like I was in the middle of a dream. The best dream of my life, but still a dream.

  From the minute we’d walked through the door of Don Rubirosa’s, everything around me seemed to slow down. The way people turned their heads to watch us walk by, the way the entire restaurant had grown quiet until I was sure no one but me and Ciro were actually breathing. When he’d pulled out my chair and scooted me in, his fingers lingering on my back for only a moment—that moment had lasted an eternity and was over far too soon.

  Drinking wine with him.

  Eating.

  Talking like we’d always done.

  And then…

  My gaze kept going back to the little box that was still sitting unopened between us on the table. First dates didn’t normally end in a marriage proposal; I was fairly sure of that even if it was the only one I’d ever been on. Then again, there was nothing normal about either one of us, not to mention our relationship.

  “I love you. I always have. I always will.
In this life and the next.”

  Those words floated through my head, filling my entire body with a heat that threatened to consume me. I felt like I’d been waiting for those words for an eternity, had feared I’d never have them from this beast of a man. Yet he’d given them to me freely, with the kind of quiet appeal that had pulled at my heart until I’d been powerless to give him any other answer but the one we were both so desperate for me to breathe.

  “Yes,” I told him again for the fourth—or was it the fifth?—time.

  I pulled my eyes away from the box to watch him. He swallowed hard, his throat seeming to convulse for a single heartbeat and then he was sucking in a breath that sounded relieved. Had he doubted me? Was he scared I would say no?

  He snatched up the box, the little thing completely disappearing in his huge paw of a hand. With fingers that shook he opened the top, but I wasn’t interested in what the ring looked like. It could have been one of those silly plastic rings kids got out of a cereal box and I would have worn it with pride. The only thing I cared about was that it had come from Ciro and it meant I was his.

  Forever.

  Long, thick fingers pulled out the ring. Tossing the box back onto the table, he grasped my left hand gently, as if he was afraid he would hurt me if he didn’t do this just right. My eyes stayed on his face as he concentrated on putting his ring in place on my finger. The metal of the ring felt cool against my skin, but his heat quickly soaked into it, burning me. Blue eyes were over-bright with emotion, his throat still bobbing up and down. When the ring was finally perfectly in place, he lifted it to his lips.

  “I swear to you, vita mia, you will never regret this. Never. I will love you like no man has ever loved any woman.” His voice was low and raspy. Raw with all the emotions trying to fight their way past his iron-tight control.

  I reached for him, cupping his face in both of my hands, not caring who saw as I leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first time I’d ever kissed him first, the first time I’d ever just taken what I wanted. His breathing changed as soon as my lips skimmed over his, his big hands grasping my wrists but I didn’t pull my hands away. I kept the kiss soft, light, but when I pulled back we were both desperate for air.

  Ciro leaned his forehead against mine. I loved when he did that. I felt like he was blocking out everything but the two of us, that in those brief moments like this we were the only people on the planet. “I love you,” he said in a husky voice.

  “I love you, Ciro.”

  His big body jerked like he’d been stabbed and in the next moment he was on his feet. The look on his face was wild and had my heart going crazy in my chest at the hunger I saw in those blue eyes I loved. He reached for his wallet, threw a handful of bills on the table, then took my hand and pulled me to my feet. Ciro’s steps were long and quick and I had to practically run in my heels to keep up with him. My left hand was tucked in his, and I was actually laughing by the time we reached the door.

  Outside, on the sidewalk, he turned around so fast I would have fallen if he hadn’t had such a tight hold on my hand. He jerked me against his hard body, his head lowering even before I’d pressed myself against him. I tasted the wine and the spicy arrabbiata on his breath and moaned as his tongue invaded my mouth, those two flavors mixing with his own unique taste. Everything faded around us. The noise of the New York City traffic, the people walking up and down the busy sidewalk, the lights of all the surrounding buildings. All I could hear, see, feel and taste was Ciro.

  This kiss was different from every one of the kisses he’d given me before. There was no tenderness in this one, no contained passion. He was letting it all go, letting it burn and brand me. I loved it, savored it, silently begged for more. His left hand went to my hip, his fingers squeezing my ass and pulling my lower body roughly closer. His right hand thrust into my hair, cupping the back of my head as he angled me just the way he wanted and promising me he wouldn’t let go.

  My hands went to his chest, fisting the soft material of his shirt, making my own promises of keeping him forever. I felt his lower body hardening more and more with each passing second, felt his dick flex against my lower stomach and I squirmed against him, seeking closer contact. I was on fire for him, my panties beyond soaked and my desire was now coating the inside of my thighs.

  He could have pushed me up against the window of the building behind me and fucked me then and there and I would have begged for more. I was so lost in our kiss, the feel of his hands on me that I wouldn’t have cared who saw us.

  The hand on my ass squeezed hard and he lifted his head. I was gasping for air, trying to suck in as much life-giving oxygen as I could before he kissed me again. But when he lowered his head it was to brush a butterfly-soft kiss over the tip of my nose. “I need you in a bed. Right now.”

  I licked my lips, savoring the taste of him there. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes. Hurry.”

  “Fuck,” he growled, stealing a short, hard kiss and then he moved toward the street.

  When he reached for the door of a SUV I was surprised to find it was the one we’d arrived in. Desi was already behind the wheel, with Paco right beside him. Neither looked at us, and I was too lost in the euphoria of that kiss to care if they had seen us or not.

  “Drop us off at my apartment,” Ciro ordered.

  Desi nodded but didn’t say so much as a word as he did a U-turn and headed for Ciro’s place. Ciro turned his body toward me, one huge hand cupping my hip, the other pulling my head onto his chest. I could hear how erratically his heart was beating and delighted that it matched my own. On the fifteen-minute drive he didn’t try to kiss me again, didn’t so much as move, and I knew he was holding on to his control with difficulty.

  Knowing that I could do that to him, make this big powerful man have to fight for control, was exhilarating.

  Desi pulled to a stop outside of a high-rise and Ciro jumped out. Taking my hand, he practically pulled me from the vehicle and onto the street. I’d never been to his apartment before but my curiosity about what it would look like was nonexistent as he used a keycard to open the lobby door and then activate the elevators.

  There were two men in suits sitting behind a desk beside the elevators and as we passed them, I saw each give Ciro a single nod in greeting. Even in my desire-fogged mind I knew this entire building was Cosa Nostra protected. I wondered who else lived there, but that thought was quickly pushed straight out of my head as Ciro stepped into the elevator.

  He dropped my hand and with an animalistic growl bent until he had my ass in both his hands, lifting me up like I weighed nothing at all. I gasped and wrapped my legs around his waist. His head lowered, his face burying in the small bit of cleavage the dress offered. I could feel his hardness straining for freedom, flexing against my inner left thigh. I squirmed against him, wanting to feel that hardness rubbing against my damp folds.

  Ciro kissed the tops of my breast, his tongue swirling little circles in the valley between them. My dress was inching up until his fingers were touching the undersides of my ass cheeks. My fingers stroked over his short hair, down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. His skin was scalding to the touch but I craved the burn.

  All too soon the elevator was opening again. Ciro lifted his head for only a second and I realized we were actually outside his apartment. I hadn’t even felt the elevator move. Tightening his hold on my ass, he walked with me against him like that to the door. He didn’t pull out the key card he’d used to activate the elevator. His hand pressed against a key pad beside the door and after a moment it beeped and I heard the door unlock with a soft click.

  Letting go of my ass long enough to open the door, he nudged it open with his foot and then walked in. With each step he took his hardness rubbed against my wetness, making me moan as pleasure so intense it made me see stars shot through my entire body. Once we were over the threshold, he kicked it closed and then pressed me against the cool wood.

  “When?�
��

  He was kissing up and down my neck, so his growl-like question made no sense to me. “When…what?” I whimpered when his teeth grazed across my earlobe and then down my neck to bite into my shoulder.

  “When will you marry me?” he demanded without lifting his head.

  His teeth sank deeper into the flesh of my shoulder and he started to suck. Holy shit, that felt good. I couldn’t think, couldn’t fucking breathe, because whatever he was doing was too much and yet not enough. Never enough.

  “Scarlett.” He released my flesh and lifted his head until our eyes were locked. The need that was glaring back at me made me shiver. “When will you marry me? I need to know. Now.”

  “Wh-whenever you want. I don’t care. I don’t. All I’ve ever wanted was you. Nothing else matters.” The truth poured out of me and his hands tightened almost painfully on my ass. Why did that feel so good? It should have hurt, but it only made me that much more desperate for him.

  “Soon,” he growled. “Say you’ll marry me soon.”

  “Soon,” I promised. “Tomorrow. Next week. Whenever you want. Ti amo tanto. Voglio passare il resto della mia vita con te.” The words flowed off my tongue and I didn’t even realize I wasn’t speaking English anymore.

  I love you so much.

  I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

  I felt him shudder, heard the change in his already uneven breathing even as his eyes darkened. “Non posso vivere senza di te. Sei tutta per me.”

  He rarely spoke in Italian, so when he did now I savored each and every word. Tears filled my eyes as they invaded my heart. I can’t live without you. You’re everything to me. “Ciro.”

  “Two weeks,” he whispered and lowered his head slowly this time, kissing me tenderly. “Marry me in two weeks.”

  “Yes,” I whispered against his lips. “Two weeks.” I had no idea how we would get married that fast and it didn’t matter. I’d fly to Vegas and get married by one of those damn Elvis impersonators if that was what it took. I didn’t need some huge wedding that cost half a million dollars. A white dress meant nothing to me. As long as he was mine and I was his, nothing else mattered to me.