Electricity crackled in the air between them. He cupped her jaw with his hand, his eyes narrowing on her mouth. She saw the pulse throb in his neck. He wanted her. And in that moment, she wanted him like she’d never wanted a man before.
Their staring contest was interrupted by a broad-shouldered, stocky man, bald, but with a thick, brown beard. “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Toscani, but Mikey Muscles just got a call from a friend of ours. He’s got that … uh … information you asked for.”
Just like that the connection between them broke. Nico’s hand dropped, leaving her bereft, and she released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Look after her, Big Joe.” Nico waved dismissively in Mia’s direction. “Don’t leave her alone.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Toscani.” Big Joe looked over at Mia, and for a second she saw concern flicker across his face.
“You got … um … a civilian woman in there? Is she your…?”
“My prisoner.” Nico turned away without another look in Mia’s direction. “Make sure you tie her up when you take her back to her chair. She might look harmless, but the minute you become distracted she’ll take a knife to your balls.”
Mia wished she had her knife now as he stalked away as if nothing had happened between them. But maybe she’d imagined it. After all, what could happen between two family rivals, one of whom was a dangerous misogynistic Mafia bastard, and the other a punk rock hacker who couldn’t tell her Gucci from her Gaultier?
“So what did you do to get yourself kidnapped by the mob?” Big Joe took Nico’s place in the doorway, his face creased with consternation. “We’ve never had a woman prisoner before.”
“He thinks I killed six men with a machine gun.”
“Jesus Christ.” Big Joe blew out a long breath. “Did you do it?”
“Of course not. Do I look like a murderer?”
Big Joe shrugged. “All sorts of people kill for all sorts of reasons. There’s not really a look to them. Maybe it was crime of passion, or sometimes people who’ve been abused just snap.”
“The only person I passionately want to kill right now is Nico.” She turned back to the sink to wash her arms and neck, taking her time as she formulated a plan. Maybe Nico was right that she would be a target outside, but better a moving target than a sitting duck.
“You know Mr. Toscani?”
“I thought I did. Now, I’m not so sure.” She tipped her head to the side, tried to force a blush. “Could you give me a minute to … ah … use the restroom?”
Big Joe shook his head and kicked at the stone holding the battered door open. “Sorry, love. Not going to happen. Mr. Toscani said not to leave you alone.”
Damn it. She needed that door closed. She scrambled to find some way of convincing him to leave her alone and came up with the one thing she would never in a million years have imagined she would say, a betrayal of everything she had fought against when she realized her father despised her for being a girl. She hadn’t been able to make herself play the woman card in Vincenzo’s, but since it was clear Nico wasn’t going to let her go, she had no choice.
“It’s … um … that time of the month.” Mia glanced around and lowered her voice, feeling no small bit of remorse for falling back on the stereotypical alpha male fear of all things period. “It’s kinda messy to watch. And really, there’s nowhere I can go in here. Look at this ass. There’s no way I can’t fit out that tiny window, and if I don’t deal with it now, it’s just gonna leak all over the place, drip on the floor—”
“Whoa.” Big Joe held up his hands palms forward, and took a step back as if she might infect him. “Okay. Woman things. Not a big fan. You can close the door to do … what you gotta do. I’ll be right outside. But don’t take long.”
“Thanks.” Mia dragged the stone inside and closed and locked the door. She’d never had to escape from anywhere before, but she’d seen it in movies. Taps were good. They made noise, and in this rusted out, leaky bathroom, a lot of noise. Too bad they had her damn purse. She could have just called for help.
Heart pounding, she climbed on the toilet and peered through the glass. No bars. No lock. But then who would be stupid enough to break into a Mafia clubhouse? Maybe the same type of stupid person who would try to break out. She slid her hand around the window frame and cursed under her breath. It was sealed shut. She would have to break the glass, and even with the tap running it would draw attention. Well, she’d already dipped a toe in the water, might as well go for a swim. Mia turned off the tap and shouted through the door. “Do you have any tampons?”