Page 128 of Mafia And Maid
My fingers trace along her hand, stilling her fingers. I want to tell her everything racing through my mind.
To explain just how badly I want her.
I nuzzle into her neck, my hands tightening around her as if that can somehow let her know. Because if I hold her tight enough, she’ll be mine. And then, maybe I can keep her…
It’s a foolish thing to want, to even dare to dream about.
“Are you mine, Rosa?”
I have her body, that much I know. But do I have her heart? Do I have her?
“What?”
She rolls in my arms to face me, her brown eyes clouded with emotions I can’t place.
“Are you mine?”
“I…” That tempting lip is sucked between her teeth as she looks at me. “Yes?” It’s not a statement from her, but a question.
I don’t know the answer I want from her, let alone myself, but that isn’t it. I don’t want any doubt from her. I don’t want to fear that she’ll slip through my fingers. I don’t want her to question it in any way. I want her to know. I want her to hold on all the tighter. “You can’t really be mine as long as he’s…there.” My eyes drop to that bare space on her fingers, slightly lighter than the rest of her sun-kissed skin. I want to replace it with something of my own.
The urge is a slap to my face.
I want her to be mine fully. Unequivocally mine.
Her fingers cup my face. It’s a soft touch I’m not sure I deserve. “I don’t know how to sort that mess out.”
“You can divorce him.”
“I can’t.” It’s a soft admission. One I’m not even sure I’ve heard correctly.
Fire burns hot and out of control in my chest.
She shakes her head. “He has all the power and money. I don’t have that.”
“We have money. We have lawyers. Use them.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it?” Why can’t she see how simple it could be? My heartbeat pounds through my body as I stare down at her. My brow furrows. “You don’t want to divorce him?”
“What?”
“You don’t want to finally be rid of him?”
“Of course I do.” My nostrils flare as she scuttles back from me. A look of outrage lights her beautiful features. She shakes her head again. She gets out of my bed, her body moving around the room and gathering the discarded clothing to occupy herself. Her hands tremble with each piece. “It’s not as simple as hiring a lawyer. It’s complicated.”
“Explain it to me.”
“Why are we talking about this?” she whispers. “Why does it matter?”
That’s the million-dollar question. The one that I keep circling around and around. Why does it matter when I have her here with me? What does it matter if she’s still married?
My tongue traces my teeth, and I take a deep breath. “It matters to me.”
“I can’t do it.” She tugs on a T-shirt, a gray one of mine, and the sight of it is distracting enough. My eyes crawl over her legs, moving to how the shirt swallows her whole and brushes the top of her thighs. Messily, she piles her hair on the top of her head. “He’ll take Ethan from me if I try.”
“What?” My eyes snap to hers, glossy now with a fresh sheen of tears.