Seized Mafia Bride by Mae Doyle

Mia

Sitting up with a gasp, I flip the covers off of me and stare around the room. There’s a gentle glow from lights in the room but also sun coming in through the window. Looking down, I’m shocked to see that I’m not on the sofa where I passed out, but rather in a bed.

No. Lorenzo’s bed.

He moved me to his bedroom last night and tucked me in. My face burns when I think about him picking me up and carrying me when I was sound asleep. My roommate used to complain that I talked in my sleep, and I can’t help but wonder if I said anything.

Slipping from the bed, I make my way into the hall, then pause. I really need to pee, and I duck back into the bedroom to hurry into the bathroom before I’ll venture out into the house. Once I’ve peed, splashed water on my face, and brushed my teeth with my finger, I step back out into the hall, my heart beating fast.

I have no idea what—or who—I’m going to find in the living room or the kitchen. Johnny and Dane both came over last night, I know that much, but I’m assuming that they’re gone now. But will Lorenzo have left me with a babysitter or is he here?

The smell of bacon draws me down the hall and I hover in the door to the kitchen, watching Lorenzo as he stands at the stove. He’s whistling to himself, the scene so idyllic that I have to shake my head and remind myself that this man kidnapped me. He looks kind and wholesome right now, but he’s a murderer.

“Did you sleep good? I hope you worked up an appetite.”

His voice makes me jump and I take a step back before catching myself. Even without looking at me, he knew that I was here, so there isn’t any reason for me to run and hide.

Clearing my throat, I force myself to walk through the door into the kitchen. My arms are crossed on my chest like that’s going to offer me some protection from him, and I lean against the doorframe. I’m not really ready to commit to sitting down on a stool like the two of us are friends.

“I slept great,” I finally say. “Thanks.” I don’t want to tell him how surprised I was to find that he moved me to his bedroom. The last thing that I want to admit to him is how nice it was to wake up in his bed even though I fell asleep on the sofa. Even though I don’t think that he touched me, that’s too intimate.

“Good. And you’re hungry? I made a big breakfast. It’s going to be a long day.” Turning, he shows me two plates of food. Both have toast with melted butter oozing into it, a huge pile of bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, and even some oranges on the side.

I don’t answer him but my stomach rumbles, and he laughs, putting the plates down on the island. “Coffee? Juice?”

“Um, both.” I feel stiff as I walk across the kitchen and slowly pull out a stool. Lorenzo turns back to the counter and pours me a cup of coffee and some juice, handing me the juice while eyeballing me.

“Cream, but no sugar, am I right?”

“How did you know?” I ask, taking a sip of my juice. It’s a harsh taste after just brushing my teeth, but I choke it down, still staring at the man in front of me. It’s the first time that I’ve seen him out of a suit or tux and he looks...sexy.

God, forgive me for thinking that.

His jeans cling to his crotch, showing off the bulge in his pants and I have to tear my eyes away from there to make myself look up at his face. That was a mistake. It’s obvious from the sexy bit of stubble on his jaw that he hasn’t shaved yet this morning and I have the sudden urge to reach up and touch it.

Also, I have the sudden urge to know what that bit of stubble would feel like between my legs. My face burns hot and I almost yelp with I reach out and our fingers brush as he hands me a cup of coffee.

“I know everything about you, which is why I can promise you that it would feel really fucking good,” he tells me, obviously reading my mind. When he throws me a wink I feel like I’m going to melt through the stool and die on the floor. Honestly, that would be preferable to the way he’s looking at me right now.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grabbing a piece of bacon, I take a huge bite so that I can stop myself from saying anything else completely stupid.

“You were thinking about me going down on you,” he says, sitting down next to me. His movements are casual, like we’re two friends just discussing the weather. “I can tell from the way you were looking at me.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Yeah? So what were you thinking about that made your pupils dilate and caused you to have to take tiny gasps of air so that you didn’t almost pass out?”

Another bite of bacon while I try to think about how the hell I’m going to keep this conversation from continuing. “Nothing. Just bacon.”

“Sure. Bacon.” He smirks at me and I feel my stomach twist. I’m fully expecting him to keep pushing this just so he can see how much he can work me into a corner. Thankfully, he drops it, at least while the two of us eat.

I don’t know if I’m starving after my ordeal or if the food is really good, but I chow down, eating everything on my plate before he can finish his. When I drain my cup of coffee and set it down on the counter, I cross my hands on my stomach and let out a sigh.

Lorenzo looks at me, his eyebrow cocked. “When’s the last time you had a big meal like this?”

“Honestly? It’s been a long damn time.” I hate admitting that to him, but I’m beginning to see that maybe lying to him isn’t my best option. He can obviously see right through me if he knew that I was thinking about him going down on me. “Things have been...tight, I guess you could say.”

“And before things got tight?” He’s put his fork down and is looking at me like he honestly has nothing else to do but listen to what I’m going to say.

“Before that, I was still in foster care, but I aged out a year ago. I’m nineteen, and you kinda get a kick in the ass as a birthday present when that happens. So I haven’t really been on my own for very long, but it hasn’t been the best experience. I mean, it’s not terrible, but I can’t say that I’m living large. Not like you.”

There’s a note of envy in my voice that I hate hearing but I can’t help it. Lorenzo doesn’t look like he’s ever wanted for anything in his life. His house is gorgeous, he’s gorgeous, and I’m sure that he could just smile and get whatever he wanted handed to him. I’m not angry at him, but I am envious. Just a little.

Okay, a lot.I’m a hell of a lot envious of him and the life that he leads.

“Well, this is how you live now.” He sounds so calm, like he’s totally sure of what he’s saying, and I feel something twist in me.

“You aren’t really still thinking about trying to keep me, are you?”

“I’m not thinking about it. It’s happening.” Lorenzo watches me like he’s trying to gauge my reaction so I keep my face as still and calm as possible.

Never in my life have I been good at poker faces, but I’m going to try now. If he really knows everything that I’m thinking then he’ll be able to tell that my calm expression is bullshit, but I have to give it a shot.

“Tell me what’s going on,” I suddenly say. “You’re obviously planning something and it can’t just have to do with me. If you’re really going to keep me, you have me. What’s the big play here, Lorenzo?”

This makes him pause and he looks at me curiously like he can’t quite believe what I’m asking. My heart pounds in my chest as I wonder if I pushed him too far. Some people simply don’t like sharing their secrets and he could be one of them. If I make him mad...

I swallow hard.

“There are a few men in the business of kidnapping and selling women,” he tells me, leaning forward, his eyes locked on mine. “Unfortunately for them, they decided that setting up shop here in our city would be good for business.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Stop them. They’re operating out of a few different locations across the country, so we’re going to have to call in some favors, but we’re going to bring them to their knees and make sure that they can’t hurt women any longer.” There’s a slight pause, which I’m sure is calculated just from what I know about him, then he continues. “Two of them are your little friends from work.”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“Damon Travini and Taylor Hunt. The two of them aren’t just involved in selling pussy, but they both want yours for their own. What do you think about that?”

My cheeks burn hot when I listen to what he’s saying. He can’t be serious, I honestly don’t believe it, but when I look at him—really look at him—I can tell that he’s not joking. I know those men from work, but barely. “No,” I say, trying to gather my thoughts. It’s like trying to gather water using a colander. “You’re wrong. They don’t want anything to do with me.”

“They’d do anything for you,” he tells me, “but you’re in luck. I’d kill for you and I’m not going to let them get their hands on you.”

With that, he pushes back from the counter and stands, carrying his plate over to the sink. I watch him go, feeling frozen in place. His words and attitude are so nonchalant but I’m not sure what I should feel right now.

Is he really the better option?