Page 14 of The Mobster’s Prize

I blink.

Ooh. It looks like my nickname just got an upgrade. One that makes my stomach flutter.

“Your curves are sexy as hell.”

And now the flutters are going faster.

“Do you realize you just paid me a compliment?” I ask, and the corner of his mouth lifts. He’s ridiculously hot when he smiles. Almost boyish. It’s such a contradiction to the angry scowl he holds with perfection.

“Don’t be getting used to it.” He winks. “But your dad is wrong about your body, and you shouldn’t be sitting here with a head full of insecurities when you’re smoking hot.”

That’s definitely the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Thank goodness there’s barely enough light for him to see my face. Otherwise, he’d know just how red my cheeks are right now. The flush is running down my neck too. Over my chest. Warming all my insides.

“Thank you.” My voice barely comes out above a whisper. “I’m worried about whether my dad will get you your money. I wasn’t kidding when I said you should take his car. It matters more to him than I do.”

“Hey!” He reaches over, lifting my chin. “I already told you that you’re safe. And I promise I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

I stare at him, wondering where the jerk from earlier disappeared to. He may actually have a heart beating inside that chest. The big bad mobster may not be a monster after all.

“What about you?” I ask. “I saw all your pictures tucked in your drawer. I take it that was your family.”

A smirk pulls at his mouth. Even bigger than the last one. He’s near dreamy with the lightness on his face.

“You saw the pictures when you weren’t searching for my keys?”

I roll my eyes. He would’ve done the same.

“Those were pictures of my mom and my three sisters. They insisted on putting their pictures up in this place.” He shifts against the pillow. “But when I come here, it’s to get away from them.”

Three sisters? That sounds like a lot. Though, I envy him. Being an only child means there’s no one to buffer you from your father’s bullshit. And I’ve had a lot of it to deal with all my life.

“So, you’re the only boy?”

He nods.

“What about your dad?”

“He died of a heart attack.” His expression changes, and the lightness fades. “My mom is the one who raised me.”

I swallow hard, wishing my mom had stuck around, but she couldn’t handle my father’s infidelity. Apparently, she couldn’t handle being a mother either. She was too young and didn’t want to be tied down with a kid. Judging by the women my father dates, I can picture exactly what she was like. Young, big boobs, her only interest being his money.

My father has told me time and time again that I look like her. At one point, I wondered if that’s why he doesn’t like me.

“I bet your mom is an amazing woman.”

She looks like it in the pictures. Doting, warm, smiling brightly as she looks to her kids.

“She is.” His mouth quirks. “But she can be pushy. And a lot.” He rubs his hands over his face, shaking his head. “My sisters are even worse.”

“Pushy how?”

“They all want me to settle down.” He stares at the ceiling. “They want me to get married and have a family, not even considering that I might not be ready to settle down. Not a day goes by that one of them doesn’t try to set me up with someone or send me an article about marriage.” A quiet laugh escapes him. “It almost makes me want to stay single.”

I find it hard to believe that he’s not in a relationship. I bet women go crazy over him. But in his line of work, it might not be feasible.

“Is there a reason you haven’t settled down with anyone yet?”

“I don’t trust anyone.”