Arranged Mafia Marriage

I release her mouth and press my forehead to hers. “I intend to, but not yet.”

“But why?” She massages my throbbing length through my pants. “It’s not like you don’t want to.”

“Of course, I do,” I confess, “but I promised myself I’d make sure we have at least one civilized meal together before I make love to you.”

“Make love to me, now.” She tips up her chin. “Please?”

“As soon as we finish dinner.” I frame her face. “I need to make sure you are well fed and taken care of. Otherwise, between the demands of your job and my demands on your body, I’m going to wear you down.”

She holds my gaze for a second, then nods. “Okay,” she jerks her head, “I’ll take a quick shower.”

I have the candles lit, the music playing softly over the speakers-which I had specially-ordered a few days ago. I admit, I have consumed a couple of glasses of whiskey to curb my nervousness-why the hell am I nervous anyway?-by the time she returns.

I take in the simple pale pink dress that covers her from shoulder to knee and which shows off her curves, and the blood drains to my groin. She walks over to me in her six-inch heels, which show off her legs to advantage, and all I can think of is that I want them wrapped around my waist while I take her right here.

“You know what?” I glance down at her. “Fuck what I said earlier; let’s forget about dinner.”

Just then, her stomach rumbles, and I can’t stop my chuckle.

“Guess you should feed me first, after all?” She laughs as she takes her seat.

I pop the prosecco, pour the sparkling liquid into her glass, then into my own. I fold into my seat next to her and hold up my flute. “To us?”

“To us.” She smiles and sips from the bubbles. “Mmm,” she licks her lips, “is this also Sicilian?”

“You bet.” I take another sip, relishing the fizz of the bubbles on my tongue.

“Didn’t think Sicily was famous for its prosecco.”

“This comes from one of our vineyards.”

“Your vineyards?”

“We own them in Sicily. Also, in Argentina, Australia, and in the Napa Valley. In fact, we have had some interest from a UK-based investor, and we may be collaborating with them to grow the business.”

“Ah,” she takes another sip, “you mean, grow the legal aspect of your business?”

“Exactly.” I take in her features. “You’re really good at piecing things together to get a glimpse of the big picture, aren’t you?”

“Thanks.” She laughs. “You forget, I grew up in the lap of the Mafia; I know how you guys think.”

“How we guys think.”

“What?” She blinks rapidly.

I place my glass down, then reach for her left palm and turn it up. “How we guys think.” I drag my thumb across her engagement and wedding rings. “You are one of us, Aurora; you always have been. You have the Mafia in your blood.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I ran from it for so long, and apparently, I was running to you all this time.”

I link my fingers with her. “I know it’s wrong of me to ask you this, and these last few days, I’ve come to appreciate just how good you are at what you do… Clearly, your patients need you, and it’s so very wrong of me to ask this of you, but-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I said yes.”

“You mean…” I stare at her. “You mean…” I don’t stutter. I never do. But seriously, this woman, she’s pulled the rug from under my feet. “You mean-”

“I’ll come with you.” She smirks. “That’s what you were going to ask me, right?”

I nod, unable to process what I’m hearing.

“So you’ll-”

“Leave my job and come to Palermo and be the medic for all of you undeserving Sovranos and your clan? Yes.”

A hot sensation stabs at my chest. “But being here, living your life, finding your identity, all of it is-”

“It’s important,” she nods, “but so are you.”

“I could commute.” I hold her gaze. “I’d spend alternate weeks here in London.”

“But you are the consigliere,” she points out. “I know that means you are not just their lawyer but often help to act as a liaison on the Don’s behalf too.”

“One of my brothers would have to step up a little more. I’d find a way to manage.”

“But being away from the famiglia would put you at risk, wouldn’t it?”

“I’d make sure to up my security presence, and that’d go for you too.”

“You mean, instead of the two guards you have following me, you’d have four?”

“You noticed?” I laugh. “Of course, you did; in fact, I had made a bet with myself that you would.”

“Yeah,” she glances down at our joined fingers, “as you said, I grew up with the Mafia; it’s in my blood. Like it or not, I picked up on the signs to look for when it comes to having someone tailing me. I also know that you have, at least, ten of them surrounding my apartment building, and that both of my neighbors have been replaced by your people who’ve moved in.”

“Jesus, woman,” I chuckle, “is there anything that slips past you?”

“I didn’t realize the man who threatened me was related to you.” She lowers her chin to her chest. “If only I had come to you first with it, I-”

“Shh,” I reach forward and rub my thumb across her mouth, “don’t waste your breath on it.”

“But I asked him to distract you, Christian. How could I have done that, knowing he could use my words against me? Knowing he could have easily decided to hurt you anyway? How could you forgive me for that?”

“Because,” I hold her gaze, “it’s what I would have done if I were in your position, and if I had been under so much pressure. Because I’m equally to blame. After all, I didn’t think twice before believing him, despite my every instinct screaming that he was lying. Because”-I lean in close enough for our eyelashes to tangle-“we both have Mafia blood in us. It’s in our DNA, and try as we might, we can’t get away from it. Because you hadn’t yet fallen in love with me, and what you did tells me that you can look after yourself when you are in a tight spot; it reassures me that you can take care of yourself. What you did shows that you were born to be a mob wife.”

She winces.

“I meant that as a compliment.”

“What’s scary is that I understand what you mean, even though I wish I didn’t.” She draws in a breath.

“And most of all, because that part of our life is done, we’re starting afresh, remember?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “it’s why I want to come back to Palermo with you, Christian.”

“But your job-”

“They’ll miss me, but they understand. Also, they have agreed that I can consult with them, so-”

“That’s wonderful news.” I grip her hand between mine. “I don’t want you to feel like you are being pushed into this decision. Or that you are compromising more than I am in this relationship.”

She stares.

“What?” I quirk an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you the same macho, misogynistic Christian who implied that cooking was a woman’s job and that a man’s role is to take care of her?”

“Hey, I still think so.”

She tries to pull her hand from my grasp, and I laugh. “Just kidding. But no, seriously, I admit I have been an ass sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Okay, many times. I have been a jerk, a complete … what do the Brits say-a wanker,” I quirk my lips, “but somewhere along the way, this fiery doctor wore me down and made me see the error of my ways.”

She sniffs. “Now you’re making me cry.” She half-smiles. “Also, don’t stop talking; it’s good for my ego.”

I throw back my head and guffaw. “Woman, you’re one of the few people who can go toe-to-toe with me, you know that?”

“I enjoy it, though.” She places her hand on mine. “I find it exhilarating when you challenge me and push my limits, in bed and outside. It’s an adrenaline rush to stand up to you, take you on, knowing I can’t possibly win, and then when I do”-she shakes her head-“I can never figure out if you let me win or if it was-”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“It’s you.” I bring both of her hands to my mouth and kiss the backs of her palms. “You worm your way under my skin and figure out just what my failings are, and you take advantage of them, and you get your way. And you know what?”

“What?”

“I love you even more for it.”