“I’m not going to take you here and now,” he says in a flat tone.
I furrow my brow in confusion and swallow down the lump in my throat. Was he not feeling what I was feeling? Does heregret his purchase? Is it crazy that I’m more disappointed in his rejection than the loss of money if he changed his mind?
Renzo grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my head up so we’re eye to eye. There’s something different in his gaze, something close to tenderness. “I’d never disrespect you like that,” he murmurs. Renzo moves his hand to my cheek, caressing my skin with the rough pad of his thumb. “I may be a monster, but I’d never take what you’re not ready and willing to give.”
“But, then… what…? How…?”
The mysterious and confounding man turns around and grabs his winter coat, draping it over my shoulders. “The money is already on its way,” he answers my unspoken question. “And now, we’ll be on ours.”
I furrow my brow, but Renzo is already on his phone. “Yes. Back door. Be discreet.”
With that, he wraps an arm around my waist, half walking, half carrying me down the hall and out through a back door I hadn’t noticed earlier. A shiny black sedan is waiting for us, and Renzo opens the back door for me, ushering me inside. He follows me, adjusting our positions so I’m tucked into his side. I won’t lie, having his arm wrapped around me in a protective, possessive hold has butterflies swirling around in my stomach. I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything, but a girl can dream.
Renzo looks at the driver in the rearview mirror and nods once, silently communicating where to go. As the car starts to move, I realize I’m letting a near stranger, certainly a dangerous one, take me to a second location. That should scare me. Part of me is on high alert, but another, bigger part of me feels oddly… safe. At least, I feel safer right here in Renzo’s arms than I ever have at home.
I don’t know what the rest of the evening holds, but Renzo has already changed my life.
3
RENZO
We reach the Salvatore compound around midnight. I’m exhausted and flustered and feeling all kinds of confusing, new sensations. It’s overwhelming, and I sense a migraine coming on.
The guards do a double-take as we drive past the iron gates, no doubt shocked that I have a woman with me. I’ve never taken a woman home, and hell, now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time I was with a woman in general. Close to a decade, if I had to guess. I don’t have time for relationships, and I’ve never been a one-night stand kind of guy.
The driver pulls into the circular drive that wraps around the front garden of my mansion and parks near the front door. He makes a move to get out, but I grunt and shake my head. I can’t explain the sudden possessiveness coursing through me. It’s like an adrenaline rush, only ten times more powerful. I don’t want anyone to open her door or even fucking look at her. She’s mine now, and I’ll be taking care of her every need.
The woman lifts her head from where it was resting on my shoulder, and she lets out a little yawn before stretching. She blinks her big, sleepy eyes up at me, and Jesus, how is she adorable and sexy as hell at the same time? I don’t even knowher name, and yet my obsession with her is already out of control.
I climb out of the car and then hold my hand out for the woman to take. The driver quickly schools over his surprised expression, instead staring straight ahead. Good man. There’s a reason I pay him so well.
Only after stomping my way up the porch steps do I realize my little prize isn’t standing next to me. I look over my shoulder, watching her scurry to keep up with me. I’ll have to remember to go slower from now on. She has to take two steps for every one of my long strides.
The woman hops up the final stair, tripping slightly and bumping into me.
“Oops!” she exclaims before laughing at herself. The sound is so innocent coming from her lips. It shouldn’t make me want to strip her down and shove my dick between those juicy lips, but Christ, it’s all I can think about.
I grunt, clearing those thoughts from my head. Pressing my thumb to the lock pad, I make a mental note to add her to the security system. The door clicks three times, disengaging the multiple locks I have in place. One can never be too cautious in this line of work. Now that I have someone precious to protect, I’ll need to add a few more precautions.
Opening the door, I lead the shivering woman inside and head toward my bedroom to get her a fresh pair of clothes to change into. Not that I don’t appreciate seeing her curves on display in the pink bra and panty set adorned with black bows, but it can’t be comfortable.
Actually, I think I hate those scraps of clothing. They’re a reminder that everyone else in that room saw my girl, a reminder of the reckless decision she made tonight. I still need to get to the bottom of why she put herself at risk, but for now, we both need sleep. I have no idea what my next move is, whichis another new and terrifying feeling. Hopefully, things will make more sense in the morning.
“Christmas is a week away,” the woman says from behind me. I furrow my brow, wondering why the hell she’s bringing that up. Is it December already? I suppose the below-freezing temps and snow outside should be a good indicator. “You don’t have any decorations,” she points out.
I huff out a dry laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever decorated for Christmas.”
She gasps as if I just ran over her dog. “Not even growing up?”
I shake my head no. I literally cannot imagine my father hanging ornaments on a tree or stringing lights outside for a warm, festive glow. “No time for Christmas around here. My job is very… demanding.” How am I going to tell her that I’m a fucking mafia boss? I guess I’ll add that to the list of things to figure out tomorrow.
“Still,” she persists. “There’s always time for Christmas.”
We reach the door to my room, and I open it, heading straight for my dresser. I mostly wear suits, but I have some gym clothes that might be more comfortable for my guest. I dig out a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and even an old hoodie I don’t remember purchasing at any point in my life. Nonetheless, I’m glad it’s here for her to wear.
“If you tell me to honor Christmas in my heart and keep it all year ‘round, I might throw up,” I inform her.
She giggles, and I turn to face her. The beautiful woman is standing in the doorway, not sure if she should come in any further. She’s silhouetted by the hallway light, her brown hair lit up like a halo.
