9. Fallon #2
Luciano doesn’t say anything. When I lean him back, so his head is tilted enough for me, our eyes meet again; only this time, our faces are inches from each other.
The longer I study him, the more I realize his eyes appear icy from a distance, but up close, there’s a depth to them. Maybe a bit of warmth, even.
“You could move in with me. I have a five-bedroom house.”
I straighten and glare down at him. “What is wrong with you? We don’t know each other. Do you always ask strange women to move in with you like this?”
The corners of his lips curl up into an amused smile. “I don’t make it a habit, princess. In fact, the only other woman I’ve ever asked to live with me is my cousin, and she turned me down.”
Shaking my head, I let out a huff. “Why would you ask me to move in with you?”
He shrugs. “Because I have the room. My house is big and empty.”
“I could be a serial killer,” I quip.
“Then maybe you could teach me some new ways to kill people because the old ways get a bit boring.”
I gasp, louder than I intend, but, hell, I hadn’t expected that answer. Narrowing my eyes, I lean over him again and force myself to ignore his sparkling blue pools. “I’m not moving in with you, Luciano. The answer is no.”
He stares at me for a long moment, then swallows and nods. “Understood, princess. No means no.”
His words hang in the air. I blink several times, trying to process the fact that Luciano is being respectful and not trying to push me on this.
“Did you sleep well last night?” he asks.
And now he’s moving on from it, instead of giving me the cold shoulder like Joshua would have.
I go through the steps of his shave, my mind focused on my work while I answer his simple question. “Yeah. That bed was heaven. Thank you. And thank you for getting my car fixed. It’s never run better.”
He smiles and gives a slight nod. “You’re welcome.”
We go quiet for a few minutes, the noise of blow-dryers making the silence less awkward.
My mind spins with concern about my living situation and what I’m going to do, while also wondering why Luciano is here and what he wants from me.
Because people always want something. That’s what I’ve learned from years of watching my mother be treated like trash by man after man once she stopped giving them what they wanted, whether it be money, drugs, or whatever it was that she provided them.
“Yesterday, when I asked you if you’d ever shot a gun, you said it was one of the things you’ve always wanted to do but never done. I asked what else you’d never done that you’d always wanted, and you didn’t answer me.”
I pause, my hand going still, with the shave cream brush in it, for a second before I continue spreading the white foam over his jaw. “Okay?”
Because I’m not sure what else to say.
“Princess, when I ask questions, I expect answers.”
My eyes narrow into slits at his stern tone, and I straighten so he can see my glare. “And do people do everything you expect?”
“Yes.”
Well…
Shit.
I guess he is the second-in-command of the Italian mafia. He probably gets every single thing he wants in life. Women included.
The thought makes me flinch internally while I do everything I can to keep my composure.
Because it doesn’t matter if he has women flocking to him all the time.
I don’t care. He’s no one to me, and at this point, I hate every single man who exists anyway.
Not one single guy who’s been in my life in any way, shape, or form has ever proven to me that I shouldn’t.
So being jealous of Luciano with other women is ridiculous.
“Why do you want to know?” I break the silence.
He shoots me a hard stare. “It’s just conversation, Fallon. Are we supposed to sit here without talking for my entire appointment?”
Irritation prickles at the back of my neck; I have half a mind to use my straight razor to cut his jugular since he’s in the perfect position for me to do it.
At least then Luciano Ricci would leave me alone.
Although I’m sure the mafia would put a hit out on me for killing one of their top men.
And being killed by the mafia is definitely not on my bucket list. Although, what a way to go, I guess. I can see the news headlines now:
Woman murders mafia boss with straight razor and gets cut into bits and pieces in retaliation, then fed to the sharks.
The thought puts a small smile on my face. Does the mafia actually feed people to the fish like they say? I bet they do. They probably have their own shark tanks in their mansions for easy disposal.
Okay, so slicing Luciano is out of the question. I guess I can be professional and chat with him the same way I do with any other client.
Slowly and carefully, I start shaving his face, my attention zeroed in on what I’m doing.
“I’ve never actually made a list. But I guess some stuff, off the top of my head, would be to own a pet—specifically, a dog.
Maybe more than one. And I’ve always wanted to go on a plane.
Somewhere cool. Maybe New York or Las Vegas. ”
“You’ve never flown before?”
“No. I’ve never been outside of Washington.” With each inhale, I get a whiff of his cologne. The same one he wore yesterday. I wonder if it’s his signature scent. It should be because it’s perfectly him.
Luciano listens while I work and think about all the things I’ve always wanted to do. Growing up, it felt like everything was always about what my mom wanted or needed. My wants were never a consideration of hers.
“I think I’d like to learn to use a gun. Not just shooting one like I did yesterday, but learning how to use it safely, so I can own one someday.”
His eyes flick to mine and he raises his eyebrows. “You want to own a gun? Do you think that’s a good idea after what you did to my car when you were mad?”
His question makes me giggle as I wipe my blade on a towel until it’s clean and shiny. “Do you think it’s a good idea to let me so close to your neck with a straight razor?”
That makes him actually laugh, and a bit of the tightness that’s been in my chest all day suddenly eases.
“You could have really gotten hurt smashing out those windows and trying to climb onto the hood. Don’t do that again,” Luciano instructs.
The way his voice is quiet and calm, yet nothing but steel in his tone, sends a yummy little shiver right to my core. Is this man scolding me? Not for the damage I did, but because he thinks I was unsafe? Why should he care?
“Good girl for fighting my men off, though. I like a fighter.”
And now he’s calling me a good girl. Warmth zips right down to my pussy as I struggle to keep from moaning.
Keep it together, Fallon.
“Pretty sure the one I bit doesn’t agree,” I tell him.
Something flashes in Luciano’s eyes. He reaches out from under his barber cape, his thick fingers capturing my jaw so I can’t move away. “Do you care what he thinks of you, princess?”
“No,” I answer quickly.
Luciano studies my face for several seconds before he releases me. “Good girl.”
The wetness between my legs is becoming so uncomfortable, I’m struggling not to make it obvious how turned on I am. I’ve never had such a reaction to a man before, yet one look from Luciano and I can barely think clearly.
“All done,” I tell him before removing the cape from him and reaching around his shoulders to redo the buttons of his shirt.
He doesn’t say anything, but I don’t miss the lustful way he looks at me in the mirror, and it pulls me back to reality.
Luciano is a man. A very rich and powerful one. Even if he were attracted to me, there’s no way in hell I would ever get involved with him. He would want me for one thing and one thing only, and that’s a hard no for me. I’ve learned my lesson; it’s not going to happen again.
“Where’s your phone?” Luciano asks when I take a step back, giving us both some space.
“Have you looked at your bank account today?” he asks, as if that’s a normal thing to ask a complete stranger.
Tilting my head, I squint at him, trying to understand. “What kind of question is that?”
“Check your bank account, Fallon.” He rises from the chair so I’m no longer at a height advantage.
A second later, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone, then taps his fingers on the screen.
“And keep your phone close by. I have a contact who is a rental broker. I’ll have her reach out to you within the next hour to help you find a place quickly. ”
When I don’t say or do anything, Luciano lifts his gaze and looks at me expectantly. “Pull your phone out and open your banking app. Now. We’re going to have to work on you listening to me when I tell you to do something.”
Whoa.
Wait.
What did he just say to me?
My ears start to burn, and I glare up at him. “Excuse me, you’re not the boss of me, which seems to be something you’re not aware of. But, newsflash, you’re definitely not.”
Instead of throwing anger back at me, Luciano slowly leans down so his face is closer to mine and smiles slightly.
“We’re going to see about that,” he says. Quietly. Calmly. “I look forward to the power struggle, princess. But for now, I just want you to look at your bank balance to see that Joshua transferred all the money you paid him in rent into your account.”