Elsa
He is carrying me through the house. I try not to think about how good it feels for Marcello to touch me, the warmth of his chest surrounding me after all this time. That is a slippery slope, and no way am I signing up to take that ride again.
My body’s reaction to him annoys me. “Put me down,” I snap. “You’re still covered in blood and sweat.”
“No.”
I this about smashing this cake in his face, but decided not to. While I would find it satisfying, it would be a waste of great cake.
When we reach the top of the stairs, he turns left instead of right, walking toward his wing of the house. “Where are you going? You went the wrong way.”
“You are staying with me from now on.”
The absolute nerve. “I want my own room, Marcello.”
“You will stay in here with me.”
God, no. Please, anything but that. Being close to him, smelling him. There will be no reprieve from my long-buried feelings. I grab the fork out of the top of the cake and hold it up like a weapon. “My own room, or I swear to God I will poke your eye out.”
The side of his mouth hitches as he shoves the door open with his shoulder. “There is my bloodthirsty dolcezza.”
I slip the fork back in the cake and go quiet. Damn it. I have to remember he gets off on my spirit and sass. If I remain blank, an empty shell he can’t play with or bait, he’d grow bored. He’d realize this will never work out. Then he will let me go.
He carefully places me on his bed, arranging me on the pillows. Then he picks up the house phone and begins giving rapid orders about the doctor’s imminent arrival, but I tune him out. The smell of him permeated the room, so familiar and sexy. I’d almost forgotten it, the combination of oranges and spice and raw power. The man is a walking aphrodisiac-and I hate that he still affects me.
Miserable, I grab the fork and start on the cake. The moist, nutty flavor and creamy icing melted on my tongue. Mio Dio, that is good. I close my eyes, wishing I could have Zia in my life without Marcello. Everyone needs a Zia who bakes like this.
When my lids open, I see Marcello staring at me like I am his walnut cake. Hungry and desperate, a man on the edge of his control. I take another bite and let myself enjoy it, just to antagonize him. Look at what you can’t have, I tell him silently as I lick icing off the fork.
Suddenly, he gives a devious twist of his lips. Reaching for the hem of his shirt, he begins to pull upward. The fork pauses halfway to my mouth. Is he . . . ?
His t-shirt slides slowly up his body, higher and higher, revealing his flat stomach and the treasure trail I’d once licked. Then ribs and pecs, more clearly defined than I remember, and his wide chest bisected with dark hair. Finally, his shoulders flex and bunch as he tosses the shirt to the ground. That body . . . it isn’t fair. So manly, so hot. My stomach warms and dips, my lungs squeezing tight as I fight the urge to sigh.
I haven’t been horny in days and now it is like my body is wired, every cell electrified. All because he has removed his damn shirt. I never should’ve told him how much I loved his chest those weeks ago.
The skin along his side is scraped raw and it looks painful. At least, I hope it is. Very, very painful. “Maybe the doctor should look at you first.”
“I’m fine. He’ll check you while I shower.”
“You’re leaving me alone with the doctor?”
“There’s a guard outside the door. You won’t be able to get away from me.”
“We’ll see.”
His mouth curves into a frown but a knock sounds, interrupting our little standoff. Marcello calls for them to enter and a handsome man steps into the room, a backpack and a bike helmet in his hands. He and Marcello kiss cheeks. “Buona sera, Don Marcello.”
Marcello points to me. “Ciao, Antonio . Come, meet Elsa.” He claps the doctor on the shoulder and says to me, “Dr. Antonio will look you over. Let him check you, all right?”
Marcello, asking for my permission? This is new. I nod, hiding my surprise behind another bite of cake. He exchanges a few words with the doctor and disappears into his bathroom.
“Signorina De Luca,” the man says, setting his backpack on the bed. “I’m Antonio. With your permission I’d like to do a quick examination. Nothing invasive.”
This is the doctor? I had expected someone older with a stethoscope and black medical bag.
“Pease feel safe with me. I’m Marcello’s second cousin.”
So much for hoping the doctor would help me escape. I set down the cake and brush crumbs off my fingers. “Nice to meet you. Let’s get this over with.”
Marcello appears as the doctor is packing up. My man is naked except for the towel around his waist, his big body glistening from the heat of the shower. An ache pulses in me and I shift, willing it to go away. He and Antonio exchange words, then the doctor bides me goodbye and leaves.
I try to ignore a mostly naked Marcello and concentrate on my cake. He goes into his closet and I hear him getting dressed. I loved to watch him dress. His suits are cut to perfection, and seeing him go from the man who drives me wild in bed to the powerful don gets me wet every time.
I can feel the dampness between my legs even now. What is wrong with me? A few hours ago I was in a gun battle. Shouldn’t I be in shock? Afraid? Reliving the nightmare of being kidnapped and having Marco’s pistol shoved in my mouth?
For whatever reason, I am not. I am thinking about Marcello’s big cock and the heat in his eyes when he stands by the bed and stares down at me. How he’d punched Marco in the face and killed the guard who had been manhandling me.
You heard my woman.
Damn that possessive asshole-and damn me for liking it so much.
I will never forgive him for breaking my heart and devaluing what we had, ignoring me, and allowing me to be taken by his rival.
Sadly, my body is not on the same page.
I am broken. Fucked in the head. Fucked up so much for loving this man. It’s these goddamn feelings that have restarted my sex drive tonight like a pair of jumper cables on a dead car battery.
But I won’t allow my feelings to show this time. I won’t give Marcello an opening back into my life. He will never know how much he affects me or how my body still craves the mind-numbing pleasure he gives it. As far as he is concerned, I am now a frigid bitch.
Whatever I fantasize about in private was my own business.