“I have a fully equipped home gym too and my property is on five acres, so there are plenty of running options if you want to mix it up.”
“Sounds good.” He stares at me with a soft smile that has me on edge. “What?” I narrow my eyes to slits.
“I love your fiery side, but I wasn’t expecting to like this more agreeable side as much as I do.”
I am biting my tongue a lot today, but Nicolina is right. Butting heads with him all the time won’t get me anywhere. “I don’t want to argue with you all the time. I just want an easy life.”
“Amen to that.” He reels me into his chest and kisses me. He’s been doing that a lot today, and he’s very touchy-feely. I both love it and hate it. “What’s wrong?” he asks, breaking our kiss and tipping my head up so our eyes meet.
“Nothing.”
He stabs me with a pointed look. “You can always be honest with me. If I’m coming on too strong, I would rather you tell me.”
Fucking hell. I thought letting go of my animosity and my fear and reverting to my usual tactics would be a better strategy, but it’s like he has me under a spell. I am already so out of my comfort zone with this man, and it terrifies me beyond comprehension. I decide to be honest because he seems to appreciate that. “I am not used to this. PDAs,” I add when he appears confused.
“How is that possible? Have none of your boyfriends been affectionate with you?”
“I’ve never had a boyfriend. I have sex. Period.”
He looks genuinely shocked. “That’s tragic.”
“Have you had girlfriends?” I ask because I know so very little about this man.
“A few. It was hard to maintain relationships after I graduated college because I moved around a lot.”
“I didn’t know you went to college.”
“I studied computer science at Oxford.”
“You lived in London?”
He nods while running his hands up and down my back. “Have you ever been?”
I shake my head.
“I love London. We should visit sometime. I can take you to all my old university hangouts.”
“I haven’t traveled much, and I would like that.” In an alternate universe where this is all real. A pang of longing jumps up and slaps me in the face out of nowhere, only adding to my confusion.
“There you are,” Nicolina says, poking her head out between sliding glass doors. “We are all in here when you’re ready.”
“Let’s talk now,” Massimo says before lowering his eyes to me. “Then I can give you the rest of the tour and make us something to eat while you are unpacking. I told the movers to put your boxes in my room, but I figured you would prefer to unpack yourself.”
There he goes with the thoughtfulness again. Massimo is nothing like I expected, and it’s becoming problematic. He is the complete opposite of his horrid older brother. I see no resemblance at all in either looks or personality, which should be a good thing, but it’s only giving me a headache.
“How did your meeting with Don Mazzone go?” Dario asks when we are all seated between the two leather couches in Massimo’s bright, modern, sparsely furnished office. His housekeeper left refreshments and snacks before she retired for the day, and I am sipping homemade lemonade that reminds me of my mama’s lemonade. My mom was a lousy mother in a lot of ways, but she was a great cook, like most Italian mamas.
“It was frustrating,” I admit, not holding back because Massimo already knows this. He could tell my frustration at the meeting even though I didn’t outwardly show it because I can’t disrespect Don Mazzone or The Commission. I must tread carefully until I have more control.
“Don’t tell me they tricked you into marriage and now they are backtracking?” Renzo says, sitting up straighter. He is purposely not looking at my husband, and Massimo is blatantly ignoring him too. That is something I will have to deal with, but for now, ignorance is better than arguing or making threats.
“The Commission still wants me to take control of the street trade in their name, but they don’t want to oust the Mexicans or the Irish without offering them a deal.”
“What deal?” Dario asks, crossing his feet at the ankles.
“Five percent of the ten percent profits Catarina is promising will be split equally between the Irish and the Mexicans in return for them reporting to my wife,” Massimo supplies.
“The other five percent will be split equally between the five families,” I explain.
