Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
~NADIA~
I wake up in the center of maybe the biggest bed on Earth, all of the blankets rumpled and in a pile in the middle, with me draped around them like the big spoon.
Carmine, however, is nowhere to be found.
I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes. I’m sure I have mascara shadows under my lashes because I didn’t bother washing my face before Carmine carried me in here and had his way with me.
I grin and stand, feeling the pull of tender muscles. The soreness feels good, though, not at all like it did as I recovered from the attack. I feel good and sexed.
I pad naked into the living space to see if Carmine is reading the news on his iPad, but he’s not out here, either. So, I walk into the half-bath in the hall, use the restroom, and then find the white robe on the floor where Carmine let it fall, wrapping it around myself.
I journey back through the bedroom to the master bath and lean on the doorjamb with a grin.
Lounging in the white porcelain soaking tub is Carmine, up to his neck in sudsy water. He’s laid his head back, and his eyes are closed.
I cross to him and let my robe fall to the floor.
“Don’t you smell nice?” I murmur. He opens his eyes. They immediately warm, then travel the length of me. “Looks like there’s room for two.”
“Why don’t we find out?”
I grin and climb into the hot water, straddling his hips and rubbing myself against him playfully. “I didn’t peg you as a bath guy.”
“It feels good to soak now and then.”
I sniff the air. “Is that rose oil, I smell?”
“What’s wrong with a little rose oil?”
I lean over to bite his neck. “Like I said yesterday, you’re just a little high-maintenance.”
“I like luxurious things,” he says, but his voice doesn’t sound defensive. He’s simply stating a fact. “Whether that’s a private jet or a soak in a tub the size of Manhattan, it doesn’t matter.”
I push my wet hand through his hair. “I just like to give you shit.”
“If you keep rubbing yourself on me like that, I’ll give you something, too.”
“Oh?” I cock an eyebrow and grind on him. “Like this?”
“You’re a vixen,” he mutters. “And it would take a saint to resist you.”
“I have it on good authority that you’re no saint.”
He laughs and glides his hands up my thighs to my waist and then around to my ass, cupping the globes and lifting me gently so he can urge his cock inside of me.
“No condom,” he growls.
“Still on the pill.” My voice is raspy. The water sloshes around us as I start to move. God, I love this position. The head of his dick glides perfectly over my most sensitive places, sending thrilling shockwaves through me.
I never last long when I ride him, and with the water caressing my ass, my sides, and my lower back, I come faster than ever, crying out with each wave that hits me.
“Again,” he orders. “Look at me.”
His brown eyes are hot as he works me harder and faster. He’s sitting up now, guiding me, pushing me until we both succumb to a climax that has us shivering and panting.
“Well, okay then.” I swallow hard. “Good morning.”
“Yes, it is.” He nuzzles my breasts, then leans back against the tub once more. “What shall we do today?”
“Are you kidding me? I’m in New York. I want to go shopping.”
His grin is wide and full of humor.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
I stand and carefully step out of the tub. I don’t want to fall on my ass, and we spilled a lot of water during our fun time.
“I need a shower, but I’ll be ready in an hour.”
“I’ll order up breakfast,” he says as he climbs out of the tub.
“It’s handy having you around, Carmine.”
He grins, winks at me, and then leaves the bathroom.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, that man is sexy. I start the shower, and when the water is the right temperature, I step in and get busy washing my face.
I’m in a damn good mood. Maybe the best I’ve been in for months. Maybe ever. I’m in my favorite city, with someone I enjoy, and I’m going to spend an obscene amount of money.
“Breakfast will be here in twenty,” Carmine calls out.
“Sounds good,” I yell back.
Yeah, it’s damn convenient having that man around.
“The bag you just bought looks like the one you already have.”
We’re eating pizza and sitting by a fountain. The boutiques will deliver our new things to the Four Seasons for us so we don’t have to walk around Manhattan loaded down with bags.
“Uh, excuse me Mr. I-just-bought-a-ten-thousand-dollar-watch-that-looks-just-like-the-one-I’m-currently-wearing.”
He stops mid-chew and narrows his eyes at me. “It looks nothing like this watch.”
“And my new bag looks nothing like the others I have.” I shrug a shoulder. “Besides, it’s a new style this season. And it’s going to look so cute with jeans and a sweater.”
“I want to look at shoes at Bergdorf.”
I grin at him. “I can live with that.”
We finish our pizza and walk down the street to the old store, wandering through. Browsing. When we find the men’s shoes, Carmine studies some Louboutins that have me salivating.
He’s not the only one who appreciates luxury.
“You could wear those with any and all of your suits.”
He nods and wanders down the table, picking up a pair of sneakers. Carmine flags down a salesperson and asks to try them on in his size.
“Sneakers?”
“I do wear casual clothes.”
I take in his khaki slacks and light blue button-down. “When?”
“I brought out a couple of sizes because you just never know how Louboutins will fit,” the salesman says as he returns and sets the boxes at Carmine’s feet.
After twenty minutes—and six pairs—Carmine chooses two, and then we’re off to find the women’s shoe section, just one floor up.
“I need more heels like I need a hole in the head,” I mutter as I brush my index finger over a pair of glossy patent leather Chanel heels. “But damn if they’re not beautiful.”
I try on Dior, Choo, and Hermes, and settle on a pair of Dior slingbacks, Hermes sneakers, and the cutest Valentino flip-flops.
Again, they’ll deliver everything to our room, so we leave the store and start walking down Fifth, hand in hand, enjoying the afternoon sun.
“I did a lot of damage today,” I say with a happy sigh. “But it’s so fun. Nothing compares to shopping in New York. Well, aside from Paris. Paris is the mecca, of course. But New York ranks up there. I could have spent all day in the Hermes boutique and bought scarves and all kinds of fun little things. But I won’t wear them often, so I need to be strong and cut myself off.”
“I enjoy watching you shop. You touch everything.”
“I’m a texture girl. I like to feel the leathers, the silks, and cashmeres. It feels pretty, you know?”
“Just one of the reasons I enjoy touching you.”
I laugh, but when I look up at him, he’s staring down at me, and he is not laughing. “You’re charming, you know that?”
“I’m just telling the truth. I hope you like tea.”
“Tea?”
He nods and leads me to the doorway of the Tiffany & Co. We get in the elevator and ride it to the fourth floor, and then he leads me to the Blue Box Café.
“Oh, I’ve never eaten there.”
“We’re having afternoon tea,” he informs me with a smile.
“Fancy.”
A regal woman with perfectly coifed, sable hair greets us. She takes Carmine’s name and checks her reservation list, then leads us to our table and sets Tiffany-blue menus in front of us.
“We’re having the afternoon tea,” Carmine informs her.
“Of course.” She nods and backs away. What seems like only moments later, a waiter wheels a cart to our table, piled high with finger foods and hot, steeping tea.
The waiter explains everything on the tray, pours us each a cup, and then leaves us to our own devices.
“I’m sort of shocked,” I admit as I reach for a scone, break it in half, and spread real, whipped butter on it.
“At what?”
“This is the last thing I would have expected from you.”
“We’ve had plenty of meals together.”
“I meant the tea. ” I chuckle and take a bite of my scone, then close my eyes in happiness. “This is delicious.”
“We’d already had lunch, but I wanted to do something different for you.”
“This is different. And fun. And fancy.”
I watch as his brows knit together.
“It’s okay, Carmine. I like the fancy side of you.”
We try the finger sandwiches, some fruit, and spend an hour simply enjoying each other’s company.
“This place is just so beautiful.” I look over at the wall with an enormous clock on it. The wall itself looks as if it’s made of gray and Tiffany-blue granite. “And the food was great.”
I yawn and cover my mouth with my napkin.
“Am I boring you?” he asks.
“No. Definitely, not.” I laugh and run my fingers through my hair. “I think all the walking and shopping is finally catching up with me. Maybe it’s time to head back and catch a nap.”
“We have one more stop to make first.”
I tilt my head. “Where?”
“It isn’t far.”
He pays the check and then pulls me through the restaurant and back into the elevator, but rather than leave the store, he leads me to a waiting salesperson.
“Hello, sir,” the man says with a slight bow. “I’m Dennis. I’ll be happy to work with you today.”
I frown at Carmine. “Looking for another watch?”
“Earrings,” he says as Dennis starts to pull velvet boxes out of the glass cases and sets them on the counter. “You weren’t wearing any earrings when we went to the theater last night.”
I stare up at him. “Seriously?”
He quirks a brow. “I’m quite sure Dennis would be rather upset if I were kidding.” He turns to the other man. “Did you see the necklace?”
“My necklace?”
Dennis nods. “I received your text with the photo. It’s a stunning piece, and I’m sure we have earrings here that will match it nicely.”
“You want me to pick out earrings to match my necklace?”
I stare at him, blinking slowly, dumbfounded.
“That’s why we’re here,” he says.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Give us a moment,” he says, and Dennis discretely walks away so we can talk in private.
“Carmine, you don’t have to buy me gifts.”
“I don’t have to do much of anything,” he says. “I want to do this for you. They’ll look beautiful.”
“You gave me a lot of gifts when we were fake-dating.” I chew my lower lip.
“We’re not fake anything now,” he says smoothly and reaches out to brush his thumb across the apple of my cheek. “I enjoy you, Nadia. More than I anticipated. And I’d like to buy you something beautiful to remember our time in New York. No strings attached.”
What if I’m starting to wish for strings?
My heart flutters. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Carmine signals for Dennis to rejoin us, and I turn to the several velvet trays with a sigh.
I know as soon as my eyes land on them.
They’re understated, which works well because the necklace is anything but. These earrings won’t overshadow the diamonds around my neck but will add just a bit of sparkle to my ears.
“These.”
Dennis offers them to me, along with a mirror, and I fasten them onto my lobes, then tilt my head side to side, admiring them.
“Would you like to look at the chandeliers?” Dennis asks, pointing to a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings that probably cost about the same as a small suburban home.
“No, thanks.” I turn to Carmine. His lips are tipped up in a small smile. “These will go perfectly.”
“I think you’re right.”
He reaches out and touches my ear with his finger. “Discreet, but beautiful.”
“And the necklace is still the centerpiece.”
“No.” He steps into me and lowers his lips to my ear. “ You’re the centerpiece, sweetheart. The jewelry is just frosting.”
He turns back to Dennis.
“We’ll take them.”
“Excellent, sir.”
Dennis is all smiles as he sees to the bill, and I can’t stop hearing the last words from Carmine in my head.
The rest is just frosting.
Has anyone taken the time to see me for me ? To see past the designer clothes and accessories to the woman beneath? I feel like I’ve been constantly trying to prove to my father, my brother, and everyone in our family that I’m smart enough and damn savvy enough to take over the organization one day.
But they always dismiss me.
Not Carmine. He respects my opinions and listens to me when I talk. He acknowledges that I enjoy pretty things but also knows that it’s just the surface.
That what’s beneath is so much more.
“Ready?” he asks with a smile.
“Yes.” I look in the mirror once more, happy to wear the earrings out of the store. “You know, I hope you realize that when I give you shit for being a diva, I don’t really mean it.”
He glances at me as we walk through the store. “You’ve never called me a diva .”
“Not in those words, exactly.”
“Does it truly bother you that I like the finer things? Does it emasculate me in your eyes?”
“No.” Visions of Carmine and I in bed swim in my head. Of him working out. Of all the ways that he shows, every day, that he’s a man. One I’m incredibly attracted to. “Not at all.”
“Good, because I plan to take you back to the hotel and fuck you blind.”
My mouth opens and closes. I’m not sure what in the hell to say to that.
But when we step outside, four men suddenly surround us, all with weapons drawn.
“The boss wants to see you. Get in the car.”
I sigh and frown at all four of them. “What in the hell is it with the Sergi organization and guns? Can’t you just ask a girl nicely?”
“Let’s go,” the goon says, ignoring my statement altogether. “You can complain about how we do things to the boss.”