Jesus.
I roll over, shifting and adjusting, trying to find a position that works, that doesn’t press me right up against him. “I don’t like this, Vin. I’m doing you a favor right now, and I have to get up for work in the morning. Be a good houseguest and turn the TV off, please.”
“Be a good host and come here.” With one arm still behind his head, he reaches out his other arm in invitation.
I glare at him.
“Watch TV with me for a minute in your tiny-ass bed and relax. Come on.”
With a deep sigh I scoot over and settle against his side. His arm comes around me, tucking me against his ribs, and oh my gosh, he’s so warm. So solid. Everything about him is hard: his chest, his abs, the thick muscle of his arm around my shoulders.
“You’re not very comfortable. Everything is so hard.”
“My chest isn’t the only thing that’s hard.” I can hear the smirk in his voice.
I laugh and swat at his chest, then look at the TV. Black and white footage of tanks rolling through bombed-out cities flickers across the screen. “What is this?”
“Documentary. World War II. Fucking Italy was a shit show.”
“Something light to help you sleep?”
“I’ve read every book on World War II, so it’s not new information. It’s more like a bedtime story.” He starts playing with my hair, gentle and absentminded.
“You like history?”
“I do. Modern history, 1900s on. International politics then was really interesting. My brother, Tommy, has a PhD in international policy and we talk about politics non-stop. I think it drives his wife crazy.”
I laugh, relaxing into him. “Giovanna is on bed rest and about to give birth to her twins. Everything drives her crazy right now.”
Vin grunts. “He spends too much time with her, not enough time working. Even now, after we were all targeted, and I’m hiding out here getting in your way.”
“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.”
“I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I find a good safe house. Matti’s working on it, though he’s pretty much useless these days, too, thanks to Siena.”
On the screen, bombs fall on Italy. “So both your brothers are in new relationships and their women are pregnant. You’re on your own a lot now, aren’t you? Is that okay with you?”
He shrugs. “It’s more like I need my underboss andconsigliereto show the fuck up. We’re in the middle of a war, and they’re worried about pussy.”
“And you’re not.” I drag my fingertips lightly over his chest, tracing the defined ridges of his abs.
“No.” He watches my fingers move, his breathing changing slightly.
“You really intend to go the rest of your life without a girlfriend or partner of any kind?” My fingers trace lower, following the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath his waistband.
He threads his fingers into my hair, massaging my scalp in slow circles that make my eyes want to close. A groan rumbles through his chest. “I don’t do girlfriends. I’ll get married when I find the right alliance for the Demonio Brotherhood.”
“And keep women on the side?”
“No, I’ll fuck women on the side. I just said I don’t keep them.”
My hand on his chest slows to a stop. I’ve known from the beginning who and what he is, but a small ache blooms beneath my ribs.
“Does that make you mad, princess?” He grabs my hand and moves it up and down his abs. “Keep doing that.”
“No. It makes me sad for you.” I mean it.
“Why? I don’t have to worry about anyone fucking my father or deal with someone else’s moods.”
