58. Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Maximo
Ihold the back door of the SUV open for Mia, and she slides onto the seat.
The scent of my soap clings to her skin. The citrus and spice suit her. I resist the urge to lean closer, run my nose along the curve of her neck, and breathe her in.
After closing the door, I round the car and take my seat beside her. I have no intention of allowing Mia to retreat from me again after the progress we’ve made over the past twenty-four hours, so I move closer and place my hand on her knee.
To my surprise, she doesn’t stiffen or push me away. Her thigh tenses beneath my palm for the briefest moment before relaxing again.
Heat races from the point of contact through my fingertips and up my arm until my entire body feels charged.
Mia looks out the window as we emerge from the underground parking garage. The sky is an uninterrupted blue now, with nothing overhead to suggest destructive winds tore through the city only hours ago.
At street level, though, the evidence is everywhere. Snowplows have carved narrow lanes through the accumulation, leaving dirty white banks piled along the sidewalks.
Broken branches lie half-buried beneath the snow, debris has collected against buildings, and several parked cars are little more than rounded shapes waiting to be uncovered. Crews in reflective jackets are already clearing entrances while pedestrians pick their way carefully over patches of ice.
We make the journey back to Aldo’s in silence. It’s comfortable in a way I’ve never experienced with a woman before.
My thumb begins tracing slow circles over the fabric of Mia’s leggings, and a shiver moves through her body. She turns to me, and the desire in her eyes mirrors my own. Her gaze drops to my mouth.
I could ignore the invitation, but why would I?
I hold her gaze and press the button beside me. The privacy partition rises between us and the front of the SUV, concealing us from Philip and Leon. Only when it locks into place do I lift my hand from her knee and thread my fingers into her hair.
I draw her closer slowly enough that she could retreat if she wanted to. But instead of pulling back, her fingers grasp the lapels of my suit jacket, pulling me to her.
Her lips part just before my mouth claims hers, while my other hand settles around her throat. I apply no pressure, simply holding her there and feeling her pulse jump beneath my fingertips.
We lose ourselves in each other. Mia meets every stroke of my tongue, no longer tentative or merely responding, but kissing me back with a hunger that rivals my own.
For weeks, I have met her resistance head-on. I’ve tried reason, persistence, and certainty, only for her to dig in her heels and fight me harder.
Now, her body strains toward mine, and desire is winning. I may have been applying the wrong strategy.
The storm and penthouse stripped away everything she uses to resist me. Once we return to Aldo’s, I don’t want her to retreat behind those walls again.
I slow the kiss before drawing back just far enough to look into her softened eyes.
“Marry me, little rebel.”
Her lips part, but no answer emerges. My thumb moves over the frantic beat in her throat as I hold her gaze.
“Say yes, and let me give you everything you begged me for this morning.”
She searches my eyes for a few heartbeats, but instead of answering, she closes the distance and kisses me again.
I recognize the evasion, but I’m too pleased by her response to stop her right away. I allow her to take my mouth, enjoying the urgency of her kiss before tightening my hand in her hair and drawing her back.
“Is that a yes?”
Mia releases a long-suffering sigh, mostly, I suspect, because I’ve stopped kissing her. She takes a slow breath before answering.
“You know, that was actually the first time you’ve asked me. Sort of, anyway.”
I ease my hand from her throat but keep the other at her nape, unwilling to release her fully.
“I’ve always made my intentions clear.”
She lets go of my jacket and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, attempting to restore some order to her appearance. Her swollen lips make the effort pointless.
“You’ve informed me, announced your decision, and issued several thinly disguised commands. None of those qualify as asking.”
She gives me a pointed look before smoothing both hands over the front of her dress.
“What you just did almost passed for a proposal. I commend you on your progress.”
My fingers tighten a little at her nape. “And your answer?”
For several long seconds, Mia says nothing. Her gaze drops to my mouth, lingering there as her tongue glides across her swollen lower lip.
She remains close, her body angled toward mine despite the hands now folded neatly in her lap.
She evaded the question before. Now she appears to be considering the possibility, and I find myself waiting for one word with an impatience I rarely allow myself.
Her eyes finally lift to mine. The desire remains, but I see her answer before she gives it.
“It’s still a no from me.”
The refusal lands with a sharper sting than I anticipated. I don’t allow my disappointment to show.
Instead, I study the flush warming her cheeks and the way her body remains inclined toward mine.
“Then I clearly haven’t kissed you enough yet.”
A gleam of mischief enters her eyes. “Far be it from me to interfere with your strategy.”
She lifts herself toward me, curling her fingers into my jacket with renewed enthusiasm, and kisses me.
I savor her newfound boldness before I take control again. She yields without hesitation, following every movement of my mouth as though her body already understands mine.
The SUV begins to slow, and I reluctantly pull back. Mia’s dazed expression is a sight to behold, her lips red and plump and her cheeks flushed.
Our gazes remain locked as my fingers trail down the side of her neck. My thumb brushes over her lower lip, and she makes no attempt to turn away.
“We’re here, little rebel.”
When we stop at Aldo’s front door, Mia’s gaze breaks from mine and she turns toward the door. I catch her hand before she can reach for the handle and pull her back.
God knows when I will kiss this woman again after today.
Cupping her face, I murmur, “One more.”
She melts into the kiss, seeming to understand that our time alone is coming to an end.
“You’re surprisingly eager to kiss me,” I murmur against her lips when we part.
“Don’t let it go to your head, but you are a good kisser.
” Mia gives me one of those sugar-sweet smiles I’ve learned means nothing but trouble.
“I’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m not going to marry you, so there’s no risk of giving you the wrong idea.
Until I find another man I want to make out with, why not? ”
She tries to slide out of the SUV, but I catch her wrist and pull her back.
“There won’t be another man, Mialina.”
The warning in my voice only makes her eyes sparkle more.
“Believe whatever you want.” She frees her wrist and opens the door. “Once we return to Sicily, I will go exploring. Italian men are supposed to be very passionate.”
My teeth grind together. Then I remember that things are about to change. I step out of the car and follow Mia inside.
She’s already wrapped her arms around her mother. Caterina laughs as Mia nearly knocks her backward, returning the embrace with equal enthusiasm.
Mia pulls back, and Caterina cups her face affectionately. That’s when Mia notices it.
She pulls her mother’s hand from her cheek and holds it out in front of her.
I watch the exact moment she realizes what she’s looking at.
She brings Caterina’s hand closer as if to make sure she isn’t imagining it. The diamond in the ring catches the light from the chandelier as Mia’s gaze locks on the stone.
Her eyes widen, and a sharp breath leaves her. She blinks a few times and opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. For once, she appears speechless.
Caterina’s smile grows. Mia clutches a hand to her chest before throwing her arms around her mother again, her surprised laugh bright and genuine.
Then the implications begin to catch up.
Mia pulls back. Her gaze drops to the diamond again, but this time she isn’t admiring it. She is calculating what it means.
Aldo and Caterina.
A future together.
Here in Chicago.
Her smile falters. The color drains from her face, and she draws a deeper breath, then another.
Slowly, her gaze lifts from the ring and finds mine across the foyer. The look that hits me could strip paint from walls. Whatever ground I’ve gained over the last day is about to disappear.
“Aldo is just finishing a phone call,” Caterina says. “Let’s celebrate this happy news with champagne.”
Mia nods at her mother, who only now glances my way. “Don Maximo.”
I step toward her. “Congratulations. I’m very happy for you and Aldo.”
“Thank you. Will you stay?” she asks politely, and I can feel Mia shooting daggers at me.
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
The second Caterina disappears into the sitting room, Mia spins around.
“You knew.”
She closes the distance between us and jabs a finger into my chest hard enough that most men would take a step back.
“You knew all along what would happen on that trip, didn’t you?”
Fury radiates from her.
“Yes.”
In hindsight, it’s perhaps not the most diplomatic answer, but I’d never lie to her. Judging by her reaction, though, I’ve just poured gasoline onto an already active fire.
“I cannot believe you,” she says, her voice rising. “I’ve mentioned returning to Sicily repeatedly, the last time just minutes ago in the car, and you said nothing.”
She takes a deep breath, the look of betrayal in her eyes bothering me more than I’d like to admit.
“All the while, you knew exactly what this engagement would mean for me and my family.” She jabs me again. “We’re not returning home, are we?”
“Mia—”
“No!” She holds up her hand. “Don’t you dare, Mia me.”
She throws her hands up in the air and spins in a circle.
“I was so stupid to kiss you again. You were probably laughing at me the whole time, thinking you were reeling me in.”
“No,” I say calmly, though I’m not sure she’s hearing me. “It wasn’t my news to share.”
“Oh, that’s convenient,” she fires back.
“It’s also true.”
She lets out a sharp laugh. Then her eyes narrow and her head tilts as she studies me.
“Did you do this?”
I stare at her. I have an inkling of where this is going.
“Do what?”
“Put Aldo up to it.”
“The proposal?”
“Yes. Did you encourage him? Suggest it? Remind him what a wonderful idea it would be?”
The words begin spilling out faster now, gaining momentum with every sentence.
I almost laugh. The accusation is absurd. Unfortunately, she’s far too angry to appreciate that fact.
“This is something you would do,” she declares.
That’s considerably less far-fetched. I decide not to comment on it.
“Mia, I had nothing to do with Aldo proposing to your mother.”
“I don’t believe you.”
My patience begins to fray. “Believe whatever you like.”
Her eyes flash. “Everything is always a strategy with you. You manipulate people.”
I remain where I am as she advances another step.
“You control,” she seethes. “You plan.”
By now, she’s close enough that I can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
This is no longer about the engagement. She’s arguing against the future she senses is closing in around her. And it is. It’s becoming more inevitable for her by the day.
She throws her hands in the air. “You’re exasperidiotic!”
I’m what?
Then her expression grows cold.
“You’re exactly the man I thought you were.”
She turns on her heel and storms up the stairs to her room without another glance.