Page 4 of Mafia Book Boyfriend

Something, perhaps a hint of longing, in her tone made me wonder about her family. I’d never asked her if she had siblings. I’d have to fix that. Looking at her and Yaya’s faces, I remembered their twelve-hour flight—and set my questions aside.

“They have their moments. Now, let’s get you settled.”

As I led Adorra through the villa, I vacuumed up her reactions as she left a trail of them in her wake. The soft gasp when she viewed the sea from the terrace patio, the way her fingers trailed along the book spines in the library—each response was a revelation. I hesitated when we reached her door. “I hope this will be comfortable for you,” I said, pushing it open.

Adorra’s mouth rounded into an enticing ‘o’ when she entered the spacious bedroom with its private seaside balcony. “This is… wow. Thank you, Xander. You’re going to make it hard for a girl to leave.”

I swallowed down; she wouldn’t ever have to. She wasn’t ready to hear that. Hell, it was too early for me to feel it. But it was what it was…

Our eyes locked, and the world halted. Waiting to see if we would act on the attraction pressing between us before it started again.

Yaya cleared her throat, reminding us of her presence. “I think I’ll go unpack,” she said, a knowing smile. “Adorra, dear, why don’t you rest a bit? I know I could use a nap.”

I shot her a look. But as much as I wanted to spend every moment with Adorra, I knew my grandmother was right.

“Dinner’s at seven,” I said, reluctantly stepping away from her bedroom door. “I’ll see you then?”

Adorra nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”

When I closed the door behind me, I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. I still wasn’t sure, other than her love of mafia books and movies, why she’d joined the agency. I’d dated other women fascinated with the mafia persona they’d imagined—dates who never looked any deeper. I hoped Adorra wasn’t the same. I’d know in two weeks. I had two weeks to show Adorra the real Xander. Two weeks to prove I would be enough to star in her fantasies.

I straightened up and rolled my shoulders back. Whatever happened, these two weeks would change everything.

Adorra

Xander Gataki was nothing like I expected. He was charming, funny, and thoughtful but also intense, mysterious, and sexy as hell. I tried to focus on my writing, but it was impossible to concentrate with him around. His dark eyes followed me everywhere, and I watched him in return.

On our second day, he invited me to tour Kouris. Yaya bowed out, claiming exhaustion. She fooled no one, as the twinkle in her eye said she was giving us time to get to know each other.

An hour later, we were cruising along winding coastal roads in Xander’s Jeep. The wind whipped my hair, carrying the scent of sun-baked earth and wild herbs while I soaked it all in.

“You look happy,” Xander said, his hand finding mine.

I turned to him, struck again by how freaking handsome he was. But it wasn’t just his looks—it was the intensity in his dark eyes, the way he focused on me like I was the only person in the world.

“I am,” I admitted. “This place… it’s magical.”

His thumb traced circles on my palm. “Wait until you see where we’re going.”

We drove higher into the mountains until Xander pulled off onto a narrow dirt track. “Close your eyes,” he said when the Jeep stopped.

I complied, and Xander got out and came around to my side, guiding me out. “Okay,” he said, his breath warm against my ear. “Open them.”

I gasped. We stood on a cliff overlooking a hidden cove, a crescent of golden sand embraced by towering rocks. The water was an impossible shade of blue, so clear I could see fish darting beneath the surface. “Xander, it’s… breathtaking.”

“So are you, he said. It was the corniest line I’d ever heard. But the heat, the sun, and the sea conspired to help him deliver the line flawlessly as if he believed it—which made me believe it. We made our way down a winding path to the beach. Xander spread a blanket and unpacked a picnic basket full of local delicacies—olives, feta, and fresh bread still warm from the oven. As we ate, I studied him. The way his brow furrowed slightly when he concentrated. He had the chiseled square chin of a superhero, but he paired it with deep dimples. Creases that folded into each other when he smiled. A smile that made me crave his lips. Craving that made it damn hard to focus on what he was saying when all I wanted to do was pull his face down and take his lips.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, catching me staring.

I bit my lip. What to share? How much to reveal? “Nothing, really. Just… how different this is from what I expected.”

“Different good, or different bad?”

“Good,” I said a little too quickly. “Definitely good. It’s just… in the books, everything’s so… I don’t know, dramatic? But this feels…”

“Real?” he said.

I nodded. “Yeah. Real.”