Page 26 of The Mobster’s Nurse

A knock comes at my apartment door. It’s Vito, the big man with the love-heart-shaped scar on his chin. He’s more serious than Luca. Darker. Colder eyes. Or maybe that’s how Luca seems to everybody else. He’s been at my apartment door all day.

He leads me downstairs wordlessly. Luca leans against the limo, chewing on a toothpick. He spits it out when he sees me. He’s wearing a black suit, no tie, open at the collar to show his firm muscles. His red eyes seem to turn almost golden when he sees me.

Sweeping me into his arms, he kisses my neck. Moves his lips close to my ear. “You look like a dream, Ellie. A fever dream.”

Hot desire and belonging dance all over and through me. “Thank you,” I murmur.

He opens the limo door for me, gesturing inside. “Shall we?”

I climb in. He gets in after me, sitting close with his hand on my knee.

He’s right about the connection between us. Sealed in the limo with him, it’s difficult to think about or care about anything else. It’s just us in our own little universe.

I let my head rest against his shoulder as he presses down on my thigh. I can sense the hunger in him even as he fights it.

“Sorry about today,” he says.

I tense up.

“What?” he asks. A pause. “Oh. A mobster saying sorry. Shocking, eh?” He nudges me playfully.

I look up into his handsome, hard face. “Maybe a little.”

“You’ve got this mobster doing all kinds of things he never dreamed of until a couple days ago.”

“Ditto,” I say. “Well, I’m not a mobster but …” I laugh. “You get the point. I was thinking …”

“Tell me,” he says when I trail off.

“It’s silly.”

“Nothing you say could be silly to me, beautiful.”

I swallow. “Animals don’t need history. Don’t need to know every fact about their mate. Don’t need months and months or even years. They just need⁠—”

“Instinct. Scent. Certainty.”

“Yes!” I exclaim. “Exactly that.”

He smiles. Not smirks. Smiles. “I feel the same,” he tells me. “I did the first time I laid eyes on you.”

We sit at a candlelit table in the middle of an otherwise empty restaurant, soft Jazz music playing. I feel warm all over as I sip a glass of wine. Luca smiles over his glass, looking almost boyish. How can this be the same man who headbutted my boss unconscious just hours ago?

The waiter brings out the starters: soup for me and chicken strips for Luca.

“I know we’re animals and all,” he says, with a self-deprecating smile. “But it might be good if I knew something about you. Other than the fact you risked everything, your entire career, to save those dogs when nobody else had to. Other than the fact you’re willing to stand up to the big bad wolf mobster⁠—”

“Is that big bad wolf in the room with us?” I ask sarcastically.

He chuckles and reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “Do you have any family?”

I swallow big mouthfuls of soup, so I don’t have to answer right away.

“Something’s wrong,” he says, looking at me closely. “Please, tell me how to remove my foot from my mouth. I need instructions. Like all men.”

Despite the darkness clinging to me, I laugh. I never expected the son of the mafia Don to speak like this. So much humor. Able to make jokes about himself.

He’s only like this with me. Because I’m special.