“And your big ass, alpha Escalade,” she teased. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to show off?”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “My mother died in a car crash when I was seven.” He regretted the words almost as soon as they left his lips, not just because he’d dampened the heat between them, but also because he rarely shared personal information, and especially about his mother.
“I’m so sorry,” she said softly. He liked that about her, too, the sudden flashes of softness behind the tough exterior. Hell, there wasn’t much about her he didn’t like.
“It was a long time ago.” True, but he still had vivid memories of his mother, her energy, her laughter, her singing, and the sadness in her eyes every Saturday morning when his father had to leave them to return to his regular life. They had one day a week with him. Never more.
“Our world really isn’t that big, but I know nothing about you, except by reputation, and even then I didn’t connect the you from Luigi’s with the ruthless violent mob boss who rules the street of Vegas with an iron fist. I think it’s because I tried to forget everything about that night. I didn’t even know who you were. I barely even saw your face.” She toyed with her purse. “If it’s all true, the things they say about you, I should run screaming in the other direction.”
“You don’t strike me as the running type.” He switched lanes, glancing in the rear-view mirror at Frankie following close behind them.
“I’m not.”
She had more courage than many of the men on his crew, an inner strength that intrigued him. And yet she was sweetly feminine, challenging his primal nature to protect and possess.
“I’m surprised we never bumped into each other,” she continued. “Or maybe we did and I just didn’t recognize you.”
“I spent some time at Berkeley studying business.” He swerved to avoid a pedestrian and Mia threw an arm over the center console for balance. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he threaded his fingers through hers and rested the pad of his thumb on her wrist so he could feel the throb of her pulse. He couldn’t explain the connection he had with her, but every touch sent a jolt to his groin, unleashing a hunger he could barely contain.
“An educated wiseguy.” Her hand relaxed beneath his. “You are different. I went to UCLA to study computer science. My father wasn’t happy about it.”
“I’m surprised he let you go.” If he ever had a daughter, he’d never let her out of his sight. He knew exactly what men were like, and given the direction of his thoughts right now, if he found out his daughter was out with a boy, he’d be in his car with his weapon all ready to give someone a serious headache.
“He tried to stop me.” Her hand curled beneath his palm, and her pulse kicked up a notch. “He broke my arm. This one.” She lifted her left arm slightly and he tightened his grip, reluctant to let her go.
“He’ll pay for all his crimes, including what he did to you.” They were not idle words. Nico did not toss out threats the way many mobsters did, hoping to gain compliance through words alone. He followed up each threat as if it were a promise so that it might serve as a warning to all who might defy him.
A curious expression crossed her face, part longing and part guilt. “You mean that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Traffic slowed to a crawl as they hit the I-15. Mia glanced at the clock in the console, and Nico gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll make it on time. I know a short-cut.”
“Does it involve some monster truck driving over the tops of all these vehicles? Because if so, I am fully on board.”
He shot her a sideways glance. “You like monster trucks?”
She shrugged. “It’s a guilty fascination thing. Who wouldn’t want to get into their vehicle and smash all the obstacles out of the way, knowing there was very little risk of getting hurt? Unfortunately, I’ve never had the opportunity to give it a try. I smash virtual obstacles instead.”
And no doubt she did it with the same focus and determination with which she approached every task. “Is that what you’re teaching this afternoon?”