Page 122 of Tempting My Mafia Monster

She turned those impossibly persuasive eyes into weapons. “Can I ask a favour? Would you take a picture of me under this arch, with the moon in the background, please?”

He shifted on his feet, torn between duty and Lili’s charm. “I really can’t leave my post, Signorina.”

“It’ll only take a second, I promise. It’s so beautiful tonight, and the lighting under the arch is perfect.”

His resolve lasted three seconds before he glanced over his shoulder towards the pool house and sighed. When he marched across the terrace towards her, I didn’t waste a second, dashing out from behind the bush and slipping through the gate into the pool area. I flattened myself against the pool house wall and risked a peek around to see if he’d spotted me. Ricci was busy photographing Lili, who changed poses with every snap of the camera.

“Grazie, Ricci! You’re officially my favourite soldier!” she said, taking the phone back and walking off.

He smirked as he came back towards the fence and took his position again.

Yes. I was in. Then came the hard part.

When I turned towards the pool and spotted the dark silhouette of someone seated at the far end, his feet submerged beneath the surface, I gasped.

Holy fuck.

The glowing ember of his cigarette flared as he inhaled, briefly illuminating the sharp angles of his face before darkness swallowed him again.

My heart flipped. Without taking his eyes off me, Maddox lowered the cigarette from his lips and rested his hands on his knees. He was still wearing only those grey shorts and nothing else.

I pushed away my nerves and padded towards him barefoot.

“You shouldn’t be here.” His deep Irish accent had the same effect it always did, spreading heat through my body and making my stomach flutter.

“It’s technically my pool, and I wanted a swim,” I answered, walking over to the nearest sunbed.

“Does your brother know you like late-night swimming?”

I kept my back to him as I lifted my mass of curls and started tying them on top of my head, a playful smile curving my lips. “It’s a new interest of mine.”

He answered with nothing more than a rough grunt, but the sound slid over me like his calloused hands had so many times before, making my clit tingle. Trying not to smile, I bit my lower lip as I slipped the towel from my body and bent to spread it on the sun lounger.

I knew exactly what I was doing, and it worked. I could feel his dark, heated gaze on me, making the tiny string bikini feel even more scandalous. When I straightened and turned back to face him, he hadn’t moved.

His black eyes had, though.

They roamed over me agonisingly slowly, lingering as though he were committing every inch of my body to memory. There was no shame in his staring. No apology. Just raw, undisguised hunger.

He lifted his cigarette again, his jaw flexing, then took a long drag. His pupils had swallowed nearly all the colour from his eyes. They were demonic, yet dangerously seductive in that ’I’ll drag you to hell, tie you up and have my wicked way with you so you’ll never want to leave’ kind of way.

Volentieri.

I lifted my arms, pretending to fiddle with the string at the back of my neck, forcing my tits higher. He looked like a man on the edge, as if he couldn’t decide whether touching me would save him or destroy him.

I made my way to the opposite side of the pool and eased myself into the water using the steps. Cazzo, it was colder than I had hoped. I turned to face him, acutely aware that my erect nipples were showing through the small triangles covering them. He noticed. His throat worked. He glanced away.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “You left dinner pretty abruptly.”

“Thought you were here to swim,” he replied, flicking ash into the pool.

I huffed. He thought being an asshole would push me away, but I knew him better. It was all a defence mechanism.

Maddox was too used to relying only on himself. He believed he was a lone wolf with no pack to fight for him if he stumbled. He was always in survival mode, fighting to keep the world out because he trusted nothing and no one. But none of that was true anymore. He had me. He just didn’t remember.

Without a word, I turned and swam the length of the pool. I wasn’t a regular swimmer, but I’d spent enough time in this pool growing up to have a decent breaststroke technique. My heart was pounding, not from the exertion but because he never took his eyes off me.

After five laps, I stopped and leaned my back against the tiles, facing him. This was the shallower end, so the water only came up to my waist as I glided my hands across the surface. His cigarette was nowhere in sight, so he must have finished it while I was swimming, but he hadn’t gone back inside.