by Sam Mariano
“No problem.”
There really shouldn’t be. I believed his earlier assurance that he isn’t testing me with Rafe. I don’t normally flip flop on trusting Mateo; I trust him even when it’s insane to do so, but Rafe is a wrench thrown between the gears. Mateo and I have a system. Our dynamic is a well-oiled machine, built around the Morelli men I know—the only problematic cog removed when Vince left.
I can’t shake the feeling that Rafe is a problematic cog. I don’t want Rafe, but having him here, not knowing why he is here, throws me off. Adrian and Mateo complement each other perfectly. Rafe and Mateo do not. There’s not enough room for two lions at the watering hole—only one. Only mine.
Mateo sighs, sitting back and looking at me. He’s displeased and I don’t know why. Well, I guess I know why, but I think it’s a stupid reason to be displeased.
Eyebrows rising in mild self-defense, I shrug. “I’m sorry that I don’t want to talk about your cousin when we’re playing. We can tease about anyone else. How about Adrian? Why isn’t Adrian good enough to tease you with anymore? Why does it have to be Rafe?”
“Because Rafe still bothers you,” he states. “If it’s a non-issue, it shouldn’t bother you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Okay,” he fires back, immediately. “Then how about Vince? Want to tease me about him?”
“Of course not.”
“Because it’s weird,” he states. “And that makes sense—Vince is a sore spot for us. Rafe isn’t.”
“I just want him to leave,” I tell Mateo, blurting out honesty. “I’m sorry, I know you want me to be more sophisticated about this and I’ve tried, but I… he’s too much like you in certain ways and it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like it and I don’t want to deal with it.”
He cocks his head and gives me a look I know he doesn’t mean to be condescending, but it is. “You’re allowed to find other men attractive, Mia. That’s perfectly natural. I know I’m the only one you need. I’m not threatened by Rafe.”
“You shouldn’t be threatened by Rafe. I don’t want Rafe. I just want him to go away so we can go back to living our lives without….”
He cocks an expectant eyebrow. I can’t even finish the sentence without proving his point.
Sighing, I tug my leg from where it’s wedged against the couch and roll off, pushing up to my feet.
“I don’t understand why you’re struggling with this,” he states, watching me stand, but not moving to follow me. “You were fine when he was here before. You got past it. Why is it a problem now?”
“Because you brought him here, Mateo. When he was here before, it was incidental. This isn’t. This is intentional. I know you say you’re not testing me, but you know what I’ve learned? If it looks like a test, sounds like a test, and feels like a test? It’s a fucking test.”
I’m frustrating him, I can see that. He sighs to himself, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“And he touched my ass today,” I add, nodding. “I forgot to tell you that.”
He frowns, looking up at me. “What?”
“He was just being an asshole, it wasn’t like… but he did. He’s still being weirdly flirty and crowding my space. I don’t trust him and I don’t know why you do.”
This, at least, amuses the hell out of him. “My, how the tables have turned. If you must know, Mia, Rafe is here doing some work for me.”
Up until now, I just feel like I’m winding myself up tighter and tighter, but his willingness to share new information makes me feel just a little bit better. “What kind of work?”
“I can’t tell you that. It has nothing to do with you. It has to do with Vegas. I need information, and Rafe has a wealth of it. I need certain information to make it back to Vegas, and he can provide a vehicle. I really don’t want to discuss the details with you; I don’t want you more involved than you are by simply being my wife.” Finally, he stands. He approaches me, his strong hands gripping my shoulders so he can bend his head and peer into my eyes. “Just trust me, okay? I have everything under control.”
But what are you up to?
I don’t ask. He won’t tell me.
“I trust you,” I mutter. “It’s him I don’t trust.”
“I want you to enjoy his visit. I told you that. Stop worrying so much. That’s my job.”
I want to tell him to do his damn job and guard his property, ‘cause he’s doing a really shitty job right now. I guess I can’t do that though, seeing as I’m the property. It would only further prove his damn point that Rafe is an issue for me.
I need to talk to Adrian. Mateo isn’t helping. Adrian will help.
Nodding my head, set on my plan, I lean in and give Mateo a kiss. “I’ll try.”
His warm brown gaze remains on me as I catch his hand, give it a squeeze, then drop it and turn away.
“Where are you going?” he calls after me.
“To get my winter coat.”
I can hear the confusion in his tone this time. “For what?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I call over my shoulder, shooting him a cheeky smile.
Chapter Nine
Mia
Elise stands in the doorway, golden eyebrows cocked, the sardonic curve of her smile expressing just how impressed she is.
“Real funny,” she says.
I tug the fur-lined hood of my bulky winter coat tighter to cover more of my face. “Better?”
“Nope. Come back when you have a scarf and a ski mask.”
My shoulders droop. “Are you serious?”
Laughing shortly, she takes a step back, opening the door. “Of course I’m not serious.”
Adrian is sitting on the couch with West in his lap, watching Aladdin. His gaze catches on me and darts from head to toe, taking in the winter coat, pants, and fur-lined boots I’m wearing.
I smile. “No skin is showing anywhere. No one can complain.”
Adrian cocks an eyebrow and looks at Elise. “This has gone entirely too far. I can’t take the abominable snowwoman out for tacos. It’s summer. She’ll die.” Easing West off his lap, he stands and approaches me. “What’d he do now?”
“This isn’t a taco-sized situation,” I inform him. “I just need a few minutes to grill you.”
Adrian shakes his head as he walks past me toward the door. “Take that shit off.”
“I can’t. Your wife will get mad at me.”
“Are you naked underneath?”
“No.”
“She’ll be fine.”
I cast a look at Elise, not entirely convinced. I peel off the coat, but she’s already moved on, drifting over to the kitchen area and opening a cabinet. “You want some lemonade?”
“Me?” I ask, brightly, draping the coat over the back of the chair. When she nods, I respond with more enthusiasm than lemonade warrants. “Yes, please.”
Adrian pulls up a seat at his kitchen table and I drop into the one across from him. Elise pours us both some lemonade and brings it over. Then she heads back to the couch to watch Aladdin with West.
“What’s the problem?” Adrian asks.
“Mateo. Or Rafe. Both of them, maybe.”
Sighing, he looks at the lemonade like if he stares hard enough, it will transform into something stronger.
“Do you know what he’s up to?” I ask.
I watch his face for something, but my friend isn’t here right now, Mateo’s right hand man is. Consequently, he gives me nothing. “What do you mean?”
“I know Mateo’s up to something, I just don’t know what. Do you? Even if you can’t tell me, do you at least know what it is, or are you in the dark, too?”
Adrian rolls his eyes. “I’m almost never in the dark.”
“He told me Rafe is in town doing some work for him.” I measure my words carefully. I don’t want to offer too many and tell him what that business entailed, just in case Mateo lied to me.
Unfortunately Adrian isn’t a dolt, so
he appears almost amused by my attempt. “Yeah?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“Well, what do you need me for, then?” Adrian shoots back, grabbing his lemonade and taking a smug sip.
Sighing as if put upon, I say, “Just tell me. Is he testing me? Rafe? Was he lying about forgiving everything and just quietly plotting his revenge? Does Rafe know why he’s here? What is his plan? Who is he tricking?”
“You’re giving me a headache,” Adrian states.
“I’m having difficulty trusting Mateo,” I state. My heart skips a beat, just saying such ugly words, but it’s the truth. My unwavering faith in the man I love is faltering in this instance. I’m not sure why and I don’t like it, but there it is.
Silence stretches on for a minute. Aladdin is in the background, gushing about Jasmine to the genie. Adrian appears to hate hearing my words as much as I hated saying them.
His silence feeds the seed of guilt I’ve been watering. Mateo’s words creep back to the forefront of my mind, telling me that allowing myself to feel guilt is to give someone else power over me. My sophisticated, logical husband can rationalize physical attraction, even an attraction to the qualities Rafe has that mirror his, but he draws the line at giving another man power over me. That’s Mateo’s arena. He is the sole proprietor—in that more than anything else, there’s no sharing.
“I need Rafe to leave,” I add. “I don’t trust him being here. It feels wrong.”
“Is it him you don’t trust?”
My gaze snaps to Adrian, but he won’t look at me. If he’s trying to make me feel worse, he’s doing a damn good job.
“I only want Mateo,” I tell him, defensively. “My mind knows that. My heart knows that. But Mateo trained my body to respond to certain things, and Rafe reminds me of him sometimes. He reminded me of him in Vegas, that’s why… I was drawn to him. Mateo swears it’s because I have some dangerous protector sensor and I know who to seduce to keep myself alive, but—”
Adrian cuts me off here, casually standing and casting a look at Elise and West. “Why don’t we take this conversation downstairs?”
I didn’t think I said anything little ears would listen to, especially with Aladdin on, but I get up and grab my coat, obediently heading to the door to wait for him. Adrian makes a pit stop at the couch, bending to give Elise a kiss before he follows me to the door.
Once we’re outside, I tell him, “I didn’t think I said anything West couldn’t hear.”
“You didn’t say anything West couldn’t hear, but Elise doesn’t know what went down between you and Rafe in Vegas. Also, as your general bodyguard, I think it’s best not to talk about the seduction skills you practice on men who protect you in front of my territorial wife—unless of course you’re attached to the snow gear.”
“That’s absurd. You would never cheat on Elise,” I state.
“I know that. Let’s just make my life easier and talk downstairs.”
“But there are cameras downstairs,” I mutter.
Since he already knows that, he hauls me to the bathroom.
I sigh as he closes the door behind us, folding my arms over my chest a bit crossly. “So, locking yourself in a bathroom with me is a better alternative than talking at your table to keep your crazy wife happy?”
Adrian shrugs, leaning the bulk of his muscular body back against the closed door. “If they were sane, we’d get bored. Anyway, go ahead.”
“I don’t remember what I was saying.”
“You only want Mateo, but you can’t stop siren-calling Rafe and you want him to leave.”
I quirk an eyebrow at him. “That is not what I was saying.”
“It’s the gist. I saved us a little bit of beating around the bush.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I tell him, a bit defensively. “I’m not trying to attract Rafe, but he’s still flirting with me. He’s not a harmless person to flirt with. If I know that, Mateo should, so why is he pushing Rafe on me? What’s he trying to prove?”
“I agree with you,” Adrian states.
I nod, waiting for him to go on, to explain why I’m wrong, why Mateo is right—to answer my questions and help me make sense of things.
He shrugs, seeing that I’m waiting. “I have no words of wisdom, I agree with you. I don’t know why he’s pushing Rafe on you. I think it’s fucking crazy. The asshole knows he married a siren, he understands your draw better than any of us—why is he trying to lure Rafe into your trap? I don’t know either.”
“You said you weren’t in the dark,” I object.
“I’m not. I know why Rafe’s here, but it doesn’t have anything to do with this—not to my knowledge, at least. I have no idea why he’s doing this. I’ve told him to stop. He doesn’t listen to me unless he wants to.”
“So, do you think he is trying to trap one of us?”
“Not you,” Adrian states, shaking his head. “I don’t know if he’s testing Rafe or not, but I know he’s not worried about you. We all know you’re loyal to Mateo, Mia.”
Even though Mateo more or less said the same thing, I feel better hearing it from Adrian. My beloved husband is a liar, but Adrian isn’t.
As difficult as my husband can be at times, there’s no test he can administer that I won’t pass, no damned road he can travel that I won’t follow, no trick he can pull that I won’t forgive. I love Mateo when it’s easy, and I love him more when it’s hard.
“Maybe he wants leverage,” Adrian suggests. “Maybe he’s using you to get it.”
It’s not unusual for Mateo to use me, but it’s ordinarily much sexier than this.
“Leverage? Like, trap Rafe into something so he can hold it over him?”
Adrian shrugs. “Maybe. Just spit-balling. Like I said, I don’t know.”
“Well, if that’s what he’s doing, he should clue me in so I know what’s going on.”
His eyebrows rise, faint amusement flitting across his face. “Not if he wants it to work. Rafe is perceptive and you don’t have a gift for deception.”
I scowl, wanting to argue, but he’s not wrong.
“Just stop asking questions for now. Let me see what I can find out, but don’t stress yourself out over it. Mateo is not testing your loyalty, that’s all I know.”
“So, what should I do about Rafe, then?”
He reaches forward and pats me lightly on the arm. “Just be yourself.”
---
“Make me a drink.”
We’re lounging poolside today. Adrian is busy with Mateo, so we aren’t allowed to leave the mansion. Rafe assured me he could keep me safe if we went out, but I declined. It’s still my job to play hostess, apparently, so we’re doing this instead.
At his command, I turn my head to face him, more than mildly unimpressed.
Raising his eyebrows innocently, he says, “What? I’m thirsty.”
Adjusting my sunglasses, I turn my face back toward the sun and close my eyes. “You know where the bar is.”
“I liked you better in Vegas. Do I need to kidnap you to get good service? I can. It seems like a headache, but it can be arranged.”
“If you kidnap me, my husband will kill you.”
“Eh, if he’s in a position to do so,” Rafe says, casually.
My eyes narrow and I turn my head to face him again. “He is.”
Shrugging innocently, Rafe says, “Won’t be for much longer if his bleeding heart wife keeps making him puss out and let people walk all over him.”
After delivering his dig and driving a spike of anxiety into my heart, Rafe pushes up off the chair to go get himself a drink.
At least, that’s my assumption. Until I feel him looming over me, casting a cool shadow. I dread the sight before I even open my eyes. Eyes clenched tightly, I wait for him to go away. He doesn’t.
Apparently he’s just going to stand here blocking my sun forever, so even though it makes my stomach feel funny, I open my eyes to look up at him.
God, he’s intimidatin
g when he wants to be. Looking up at him like this, he’s all sinister shadows, muscular chest, and broad shoulders. His eyes gleam with challenge as they bore into me, his strong jaw set in stone. My brain understands he’s not my master, but his posture tells my brain it’s dead wrong.
I swallow.
This time, his words are more deliberate, his tone harder. This time, he promises unspoken consequences if I disobey the order he has no business issuing. “Mia, be a good girl and go make me a drink.”
Goddammit.
My stomach hollows out. It’s stressful to follow his orders at home, but it stresses me out even more not to. Despite knowing there’s no legitimate cost for disappointing this man I do not belong to, my body tells me I’m supposed to. It goes against my very nature to be difficult just for the sake of being difficult. I like to please people and he likes to be pleased—simple enough, in theory. Even though we’re not in Vegas, even though I’m no longer at anyone’s mercy, even though I have status here and could decline without consequence, I can’t help rising.
He doesn’t move as I step around him and walk to the bar. I steal glances in his direction as I grab a glass and pour him a drink. He does turn to look at me, but the asshole doesn’t move. It would be effortless to at least come collect this drink, but he doesn’t. When I finish pouring, he makes me bring it to him.
A slow smile claims his lips as the drink transfers from my hand into his. His eyes never leave mine. “See, now was that so hard?” His tone is as smooth as the liquor. Still holding my gaze, a glint of amusement in his brown eyes now that I’ve submitted to his will, he takes a drink.
My chest feels funny.
“You’re not supposed to boss me around here,” I inform him. My tone is milder than I intend. I want it to be fiery and in-charge, but it comes out sounding more like a request.
“Why not?” he asks, simply. “You like to be bossed around.”
“By my husband,” I state.
Rafe smiles. “I know you’re married, little one. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”
“Then you should respect my husband enough to stop doing that,” I inform him.
Cocking his head, he slightly narrows his eyes and ponders, “Is it disrespecting your husband? He’s not around—and he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it when he is.”
