Page 51 of Mafia And Maid
His gaze drags over me in a way that makes me feel like a kid again. I hate how he and Marco can do that so easily to me. I arch a brow. Shaking his head, he disappears further into the house. And I exhale a breath.
I’m not trying to hide anything from my brothers, but they don’t need to go poking around into my private life. I’m a grown ass man, for God’s sake.
I glance at my watch, and the nerves choke me as I pull on my suit jacket, hiding the concealed gun in my holster. I can do this. Employers take their beautiful, curvy employees out to dinner all the time. Right?
“Hi.” Rosa’s soft voice hits my ears, and I whirl around. “I hope this is okay. It’s all I have.”
My eyes rake over her body before slowing down to enjoy the view. Wrapped in a velvety thin-strapped jade green dress that just hits her mid-thigh, she looks like sin.
The dress hugs each of her curves like a glove, accentuating the way her body tapers in at the waist before flaring over her wide hips. It doesn’t hide the fact that she’s got meat on her bones, and that alone makes my mouth water.
The heels she wears elongate her legs, and the urge to touch them nearly overtakes me. Her hair has pretty waves in it, and I can’t help my gaze trailing over her cute, rounded cheeks and freckles. Her lips are painted a soft pink, giving them a natural and glossy look. Venus rising from the ocean has nothing on the vision in front of me.
She fiddles with the strap of her watch, her gaze dropped.
“You look beautiful,” I breathe.
That delicious color spreads across her fair cheeks, and my body stiffens. She shifts from foot to foot, still not meeting my eyes, but I can’t take my eyes off her.
“I know I have some weight to lose…” Her voice is a low murmur.
My eyebrows shoot up. “No, you don’t,” I say quickly. “I like a woman with proper curves.”
A look of confusion flickers over her face. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I mean it.” I clear my throat, pulling at my collar. “Shall we?”
Mutely, she nods when I motion to the door. I hold it open as the hint of her scent billows past me. My mouth waters for another hit. Her rose scent with a hint of lavender is better than any drug out there.
With a shake of my head, I curl my fist. I can look, but I can’t touch. That’s not what this is.
“I hope you’re hungry,” I say as I open the passenger door to my SUV.
She gives me a tight smile in return.
The car ride is filled with mostly silence while I observe her fidget slightly in her seat. I can’t quite decide if it’s nervousness or something else. Thankfully, the ride isn’t long.
“Have you ever eaten here?” I ask as I pull us into the valet line at the best Italian restaurant in the city.
“No.”
“Oh?” I figured everyone in Chicago’s upper elite had dined here at least once in their life. I nod, unsure what else to say.
I notice a shiver run through Rosa. It’s cool in my car, but I know from experience that this particular restaurant always has its AC on even higher.
I hand my keys off to the valet before moving around the SUV, unbuttoning my jacket as I go to open Rosa’s door. I don’t miss the curious eyes of those milling around the building, all too eager to see who’s out on the town and hoping to catch a glimpse of the rich and famous who often frequent this establishment.
As she climbs out of the car, I quickly cover her shoulders with my jacket. I don’t like seeing her shiver.
But as soon as the fabric wraps around her, her gaze snaps to mine. She takes a sharp inhale, and her eyes widen with a look of alarm. Her body goes ramrod straight with tension and something else I can’t identify.
Alarm bells ring in my head. What just happened?
Offering her a soft reassuring smile, I gently press my hand to the small of her back, guiding her inside.
Warmth radiates from her, and the thought of her smelling like me does all kinds of bad fucked up things to my thoughts. She fits perfectly into my side, tucked away from the nosy vultures of Chicago. I like her protected like this.
Some primal part of my brain roars to life, and I clench my fist to keep from growling at the men who openly ogle her as we pass. One glare from me is enough for them to pale and turn away quickly.