***
I felt something warm and wet against my face and slowly opened my eyes. A hand was softly sliding a washcloth down my cheek while a powerful arm wrapped around me, holding me tight. I pressed back against Alessio’s firm body, letting the warm, soapy bathwater caress my skin. “What happened?” I mumbled softly.
Alessio kissed the back of my head, the washcloth sliding down and moving across my collarbone. “You passed out, piccolo bolide.”
My cheeks burned and I was glad Alessio was behind me, holding me on his lap in the tub. I didn’t want him to see how red my cheeks were. “I’m sorry.”
He chuckled, his chest vibrating pleasantly against my back. “You have nothing to apologize for, amore mio.” He kissed my shoulder. “I should apologize to you. Perhaps you were not ready for that.”
I shook my head. “No. That was amazing. I’ve never felt anything so incredible, so mind-blowing, in my whole life.” I lifted his hand to my mouth and kissed it. “No apologies from either of us. How’s that sound?”
“Perfect,” he whispered in my ear, sending a pleasurable thrill through my body that went straight to my clit. I reached back and slid my hand between our bodies, reaching for him.
Another chuckle. “Who knew such a delicate flower could be so insatiable?”
“Who knew a forced relationship could be so wonderful?” I replied.
I felt him shrug against me. “I had hoped – dreamed, but never expected someone as wonderful as you.” He kissed my shoulder again. “And while on the subject of this unique promise, it’s time to meet the man who made it happen.”
Even the warmth of the water couldn’t protect me from the chill that stabbed through me, pricking my flesh with goose pimples. “We’re still going to see your father today?”
“Si. Lunch has become dinner, but today is the day. He’s been very anxious to meet you. I can hold him off no longer.”
I nodded. I had wondered why his father hadn’t tried to meet me sooner, to see the woman he had arranged to marry his son, but now I understood. Alessio had bought me some time, but a mafia don would only wait for so long, even if it was his own son making him do the waiting.
I climbed out of the tub, my legs still shaking from our little encounter in the front yard. I shook my head as I grabbed a towel and dried off, unable to believe I had just done that. Out in public? In broad daylight? I felt a tingle between my legs and tried to shift my thoughts to something that wouldn’t make me aroused. Focusing on meeting Alessio’s father did the trick, dousing my desire as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped on me.
Alessio rose out of the tub, water running down his sculpted body as if he were an Italian sea god, and stepped out of the tub, putting his wet hands on my upper arms and kissing my shoulder. “Relax. He’ll love you.”
“I hope so,” I replied, walking into the bedroom. My red dress lay crumpled on the floor, smeared with dirt and grass stains, with a huge tear in the skirt. I knew what I wouldn’t be wearing tonight. Fortunately, Alessio made sure my wardrobe choices weren’t lacking. One side of the huge walk-in closet was filled with nothing but dresses. I had thought I’d been a spoiled brat at home with my parents, but the man I was promised to took things to a whole new level.
I selected another dress – fiery red because Alessio always had me burning red-hot – and slipped into it. It was short, barely going to mid-thigh, and had a slit almost to the waist, almost leaving one leg bare. I worried for a second that Alessio’s father might think I was a tramp, but the original dress didn’t exactly make me seem demure or innocent. Besides, maybe it would be good to show the mafia don I was more than capable of making his son happy.
By the time Alessio was dressed – looking good enough to eat in tight black slacks, a black dress shirt, and a black jacket – I had touched-up my hair and make-up. He looked at me, his eyes slowly traveling up and down my body, sending a pleasurable wave of warmth between my thighs. He smiled that charming, panty-melting smile of his and held out his hand. “Shall we go?”
***
My nerves had calmed during the drive, but I was on edge again as the hostess led us through the fancy dining room of the most popular restaurant in town. Reservations for this place were required months in advance, so Alessio’s father had either planned this before I had even arrived on his son’s doorstep or he had no problem with simply picking up the phone at a moment’s notice and making something happen. If I had to bet, I would’ve put my money on the latter possibility.
A man stood as we approached a corner booth in the back of the restaurant. He gave Alessio a hug and a kiss on each cheek, a huge smile on his face as he stepped back. “How is my favorite son?”
Alessio grinned. “Doesn’t that ever get old, Papa?” He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close. “Papa, this is Sofia Amaretti.”
The older man looked at me, the big smile still on his face. He wasn’t quite as tall as his son, but he was broad, with gray hair that had probably once been blond if Alessio’s locks were any hint of his younger days. The eyes that looked at me were the same blue as his son’s He took my hand and raised it to his lips, his eyes never leaving mine. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sofia. I am Casimiro Drago.”
I swallowed loudly, my throat suddenly dry. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Drago,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
The older Drago laughed. “The young girl is terrified, Alessio. What terrible things have you told her about me?” Before Alessio could respond, his father snapped his fingers. “It doesn’t matter. There is only one answer.”
A waiter appeared by our side. “Yes, Mr. Drago?” His voice shook slightly, but he appeared calm, although he didn’t look the older man in the eye.
“Wine,” Casimiro said. “Two of your finest bottles.”
The waiter nodded, retreating quickly.
Alessio’s father sat down, motioning for us to do the same. Alessio waited for me to slide into the booth and then sat down next to me, resting his hand on my thigh. I tried to ignore the surge of heat from his touch, the way he made my skin feel warm and tingly.
“You look good together,” Casimiro said. “Happy.”
“We are very happy, Papa,” Alessio said, smiling. “She’s perfect.”
Casimiro looked at me. “And you? You are happy with my son?”
I smiled and nodded. “You have a wonderful son, Mr. Drago. He treats me like a princess.” My mind flashed to being taken in the yard and I couldn’t help but wonder if any princesses had ever done that. “I do have a question, though.”
Casimiro held up a finger as the waiter reappeared and presented the wine. He examined the cork after the first bottle was open, waited for the waiter to pour a glass, and then swirled it out around, inhaling the aroma. He smiled and nodded, giving the waiter permission to finish filling his glass and pouring ours.
After taking a sip, Casimiro looked at me again. “We are going to be family. You may ask me anything.”
“Why was I promised to your son?”
Alessio tensed beside me, his fingers tightening their grip on my leg. His father stared at me, the smile slowly sliding from his face. He continued to stare at me for a few seconds, and then laughed, looking at Alessio. “Well, I did say anything, did I not?” He shook his head, still chuckling. “At my age, you would think I’d know to watch my words.”
Another waiter appeared with a tray loaded with food.
“Papa,” Alessio exclaimed.
Casimiro shrugged. “I took the liberty of ordering for everyone, telling them to begin preparing the meal as soon as you arrived. I hope that is okay.”
Alessio nodded. I did the same, feeling it was probably unwise to tell a mafia don you didn’t approve of his actions. Besides, the man obviously knew his cuisine. The appetizer was porcini and nepitella, the mushrooms looking delicious sitting on top of the toasted bread, but the meal itself almost made me moan. “Grilled Tuscan Chicken and Orzotto?”
I could almost feel myself start to drool.
“Yes,” Casimiro said. “I wasn’t sure what you would like so I got both. I hope this is okay.”
I giggled, almost feeling giddy. The big bad mafia boss was a foodie. “This is perfect. I love both dishes.”
Casimiro smiled. “I had hoped you would. Your…” He cleared his throat, suddenly looking nervous. He picked up his fork and flashed us an obviously fake smile. “Let’s eat.”
Trying to ignore the elder Drago’s strange behavior, we started eating, making the appetizer disappear almost instantly. I forced myself to slow down during the main course, determined to solve the mystery of the agreement. “So about that promise?” I smiled my most innocent smile as both Alessio and his father looked at me in shock.
After a few seconds of studying me intently, Casimiro laughed. “There have been men who have gone to their graves with unspoken questions on their lips because they were too frightened to ask me. Hard men. Men who stared death in the face every day. Men who delivered death simply because they were told to do so.” He shrugged, his expression becoming deadly serious. “And they were right to fear me. I am the don of the Drago family, one of the most powerful families of the Cosa Nostra. I can have anything by simply placing a few phone calls.”
“So why did you want me?”
Casimiro looked at his son and grinned. “I like her. She has a fire within her.”
Alessio nodded, visibly relaxing. “Yes, she does.” He looked at me and smiled. “She is very hot.” The look in his eyes made me squeeze my thighs together as a surge of heat flashed through me.
The elder Drago returned his gaze to me and sighed deeply. “You are asking an old man to remove a scab from a wound that has never entirely healed.”
“My whole life has been flipped upside-down.” I glanced at Alessio and smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way… but I’d still like to know why.”
Casimiro gave a sad smile, a sudden softness in his eyes. He shook his head. “I never could say no to her, either.” He sighed again. “I have not seen your mother in many, many years, but she was the second-most beautiful woman I had ever seen.” He glanced at Alessio. “Your sweet mother was the first.” He shook his head, looking at his hands on the table. “I thought I would die when my wife passed away… but then your mother entered my life, a glorious sunrise after a night that had lasted too long.”
The mafia don looked at me, that sad smile on his face again. “I loved her. She loved me.” He shrugged. “But she loved your father more.” He shook his head, chuckling. “Age and wisdom have taught me that the heart wants what it wants… but back then I felt betrayed. Your father stood in the way of what I wanted. I was going to kill him.” Another shrug. Another grin. “But I could never say no to your mother.”
“She made the deal?” My throat suddenly felt very dry.
Casimiro shook his head. “No, she asked me to spare his life. I could never tell her no, but my pride had been wounded. I said I would spare his life but that I would take something from them because they had taken something from me.” He nodded towards me. “Their first-borne daughter.”
I bit my lower lip, shivering, suddenly feeling very cold. Alessio reached out and took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Casimiro shrugged. “It was impetuous. Stupid.” He chuckled, the sound filled with bitterness and sadness. “Your father had two brothers. Your mother had one. I’m sure they thought the chances of having a girl were very slim.”
“You could have… I don’t know… canceled the deal.”
Casimiro shook his head. “No. Within the Cosa Nostra, a man’s word is everything. To show weakness – doubt – in anything gives your enemies a reason to attack. They will ask, ‘you ignored this deal so why not ignore that one?’”
I nodded. It made sense. I wasn’t thrilled that my parents had no problem with giving me up, but I had to remind myself that I didn’t even exist then. It was just a vague promise for the future to avoid something bad happening right then.
I shook my head. “They made it sound like some big bad feud, like there would be a war if I didn’t agree.”
Casimiro nodded. “An agreement is an agreement, no matter how trivial it might seem, no matter how foolishly it was made. If it had not been honored…” He shrugged. “But that is not important. No need to dwell on actions that don’t need to be taken.”
A phone chirped and Casimiro reached into his pocket, glancing at the screen. He grimaced. “I’m afraid I must miss dessert… but please stay and enjoy it.” He rose and shook his head. “Pumpkin coconut panna cottas. My favorite.” He looked at me, a hopeful smile on his face. “Perhaps we can dine together again and I can enjoy panna cottas with the two of you.”
I smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”
The don looked at us and smiled. “The two of you look good together.” He looked at Alessio. “Treat her well.”
Alessio nodded. “You know I will, Papa.”
Casimiro nodded, typed something into his phone, took a last look at us, and then turned and walked away.
“What’s that about?” I asked.
Alessio shrugged. “My father is involved in many things.” He looked at me, worry in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
I smiled. He was drop-dead gorgeous and a beast in bed, but the way he always showed concern for me, his desire to always make me happy, was what made me love him. I thought about it for a minute. Love? Yes. It was odd, for sure. I had expected to hate him from the moment I had learned about the promise, but he was too sweet – and far too damned sexy – to hate. I nodded. “I’m perfect.”
He looked into my eyes. “Yes, you are.”
Before I could respond, he leaned close, his lips taking mine. I moaned, my fingers squeezing into his leg as his tongue battled mine. I pulled away, gasping for air, my nipples suddenly hard as diamonds. I looked into his ocean-blue eyes, stormy with lust, feeling the intensity of our passion building between us like an electric current. I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, a nervous, anxious energy radiating out from my core, making me squirm.
Our waiter suddenly appeared, surprising a gasp from me. Alessio grinned as the waiter set dessert in front of us. “Thank you,” he said, calm and cool, as if he hadn’t just ignited a fire within me that threatened to burn me alive.
I reached for my wine and took a healthy swallow, trying to ignore the mischievous sparkle in Alessio’s eyes, the devil-may-care grin that always threatened to soak my panties. He looked at me, pretending to be oblivious to my arousal, and scooped his spoon into the dessert. He held it out to me and I opened my mouth without hesitation. The panna cotta was delicious… but it wasn’t what I was hungry for.
“Good?” he asked.
“Delicious,” I replied, licking my lips. His gaze flickered to my mouth and I saw the hunger within his eyes flare up. Good. I wasn’t the only one hot and bothered. “So silky and creamy,” I said softly, putting every bit of lust I felt into my voice. “It makes me feel… naughty.” I lowered my voice to a breathy whisper on the last word, enjoying how my Italian lover’s cheek twitched. A storm was brewing in his darkened eyes. We probably wouldn’t finish dessert.
However, instead of saying we were leaving, Alessio laughed and placed his hand on my leg, just inches below the hem of my skirt. “Well… maybe I can do something about that,” he said, as his fingers slowly slid up my bare flesh.
I glanced nonchalantly around the restaurant, my heart suddenly beating a mile a minute. He wouldn’t dare. Not in a public place. The front yard was one thing… but a crowded restaurant? I sucked in a breath as his hand slipped under the thin material of my skirt, his eyes never leaving my face.
I smiled mischievously, spreading my legs slightly, curious to see how far he was willing to go. I knew he’d probably see it has a challenge. I didn’t entirely mind that.
Alessio’s fingers lightly grazed my thigh, gently tickling my flesh as he approached his d
estination.
“How’s your dessert,” I asked, my cheeks growing warmer as his hand rose higher.
“Beautiful,” he replied, his fingers rising even higher, slipping under my panties and fluttering across my moistening lips like a soft breath. I resisted the urge to lift my hips towards his touch. I was horny as hell, but this little game was getting out of control.
“Alessio,” I gasped, my hips straining to press against his hand. “We can’t. Not here.”
He looked around casually, as if doing nothing more than surveying his surroundings as we ate dessert. “Why not?”
“Someone might see,” I hissed through gritted teeth, perspiration beading on my forehead. What little control I had was slipping away.
“So?”
I wanted to object more, put up more of a fight, but I couldn’t. It felt too damned good. I couldn’t ignore the lust racing through my body anymore. I closed my eyes and sighed as Alessio’s fingers traced a slow circle around my clit before making the satisfyingly slow trip back down my swollen lips.
“No,” I said softly, but he knew better. He knew I wanted him, knew I was burning for his touch. I finally gave in to the need to rise up and press against his hand. I groaned with frustration as he raised his hand just enough to keep his touch light.
My eyes shot open at the sound of the waiter’s voice. “Is everything satisfactory, sir? Madam?”
“Simply exquisite,” Alessio said, sliding a finger knuckle-deep inside me. I gasped in surprise, my inner muscles clenching at the invader, trying to draw his naughty digit in deeper. I squirmed as he curled his finger up inside me, grazing my g-spot.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” the waiter asked, concern on his face.
“I’m fine,” I replied breathlessly, trying not to hunch my hips against Alessio’s fingers, which he had started sliding slowly in and out of me.
Obviously not convinced but professional enough to not contradict, the waiter nodded and went to tend to his other customers.
Promised to the Mobster 2: An Italian Mafia Romance Page 2