Mia

Usually when I was working in my studio, my focus was so complete that the rest of the world melted away. I’d never had an issue with my concentration, especially with a looming deadline—until I spent the night with Christian. I’d barely been able to accomplish anything in the past five hours. With the information I’d been given from the Russians and the work I’d already gotten done on the project, I should have almost been finished. Forging papers for four women with the resources that Nic put at my disposal shouldn’t have been too difficult for me; I’d certainly done harder before. But I couldn’t get my mind off Christian, and knowing that the recipients of my forgeries were brides was messing with my head even more because it had me daydreaming about walking down the aisle to a man I’d met only a day ago.

“This isn’t working,” I grumbled, shoving away from my workstation. Standing up, I stretched and felt aches in places that reminded me of all the things I’d done with Christian the night before. He hadn’t just invaded my mind all day; he’d left his mark on my body, too. “Dammit.”

“Don’t kill me,” Camila called out, startling me. “I have food for you.”

“Come in.”

My sister’s eyes widened in surprise as she walked into my studio. “I figured I’d have to drag you away from your project and convince you to eat something. Unless you’re done?” Her gaze darted to the desk and back to my face in confusion. “It doesn’t look like you’re done, but you’re not hunched over, working like I always find you. Are you sick?”

She hurried over, set the plate and glass she was carrying down, and reached up to press her hand against my forehead. The smile I flashed her wasn’t as big as it normally would be, but it was still heartfelt since my sister was my favorite person in the world. “I’m fine, Camila.”

With her eyes narrowed on me, she didn’t look the least bit convinced. “I don’t believe you. Not when it looks like you didn’t get a wink of sleep.” Her head tilted to the side. “Were you in here all night? Is that why you disappeared yesterday? And why it looks like your bed hasn’t been slept in? When I asked Enzo about it after I noticed that you disappeared, he told me not to worry. I figured it was DeLuca business so I didn’t ask any questions,” she snickered, “like a good little ‘mafia wife.’ But now I’m wondering if I’m going to need to kick my husband’s—”

I slapped my hand over her mouth to stop her tirade because I knew that once Camila really got going, nothing could make her stop. If I hadn’t been laughing, muffling her probably wouldn’t have even worked. I waited until her lips stopped moving before I pulled my hand away, while carefully considering how I was going to explain what had happened last night without throwing Enzo under the proverbial bus—not that he couldn’t talk himself out of it since he knew exactly how to handle my sister. When I came up empty, I dove into my story and hoped for the best. “I wasn’t in my bed because I stayed at a hotel. With Christian.”

And that’s as far as I got before she screeched, “What?! You left the party with a man and nobody told me?” I nodded, and she steamed ahead. “Did Enzo know? I mean, I’m so used to him pretty much knowing everything, but maybe nobody told him you left with Christian?”

“Um, yeah...about that,” I mumbled, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. “I would say the odds are good that he knew since I didn’t so much as leave with Christian as he interrupted my meeting with Nic, tossed me over his shoulder, and carried me out of the house.”

“Holy shit,” she breathed, stumbling backwards and dropping down onto one of the chairs in the corner of my studio. I followed after her and sat in the one next to her, reaching out for her hand. “I’m not sure if I should be pissed at him for keeping this from me, or impressed that he somehow managed it so I didn’t hear a peep about it at a party where people had to be talking.”

“I think Brandon and Christian’s mom was the only one who saw us leave, so it’s possible that nobody except Enzo was told about what happened.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes and laughed softly. “Mafia guys are worse gossips than little old ladies. People knew.” Then those eyes narrowed. “Except for me, and it wasn’t just my husband who kept it from me. How long ago did you get home?”

“Five or six hours ago,” I admitted softly, cringing a little because I knew she wasn’t going to be happy with my answer.

She crossed her arms and glared at me, with her foot tapping against the floor. “And you didn’t think to come and find me?”

“Nope. Sorry,” I sighed. “I thought I’d be able finish off a project that needs to get done soon, and that focusing on work would help me get my head screwed back on straight.”

Her glower turned into a smug grin. “That doesn’t seem to be working out so well for you. How about you try dishing to big sis and I’ll set you straight instead?”

I leaned my head back against the chair, shut my eyes, and took a deep breath. As I exhaled, some of the tension left my body—only to quickly return as a deep male voice answered Camila’s question.

“If anyone is going to straighten Mia out, it is going to be me.”

My eyes popped open as I jumped out of my seat, only to find Christian and Enzo striding into my studio. I felt frozen in place, pinned where I stood by the blazing heat in his dark gaze. My sister didn’t seem to be similarly affected, though. She moved closer to me and whispered in my ear, “Surprise, surprise. The fancy professor has the caveman thing down pat when it comes to you. If looks could undress...”

“Camila!” I hissed.

“I guess I’ll give you a pass on not finding me the minute you got back home. But I expect you to fill me in later because there’s got to be one hell of a story behind it all if you’ve got him hunting you down in Enzo’s territory like this.” She kissed me on the cheek, and squeezed my shoulder before heading over to her husband’s side. Enzo didn’t say anything. He just offered me a reassuring smile and then led her out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

I felt like I’d been locked in a cage with a lion with the way Christian stalked towards me. I backed away a couple of steps, until I bumped into the chair where I’d been sitting. That didn’t slow him down, though. He kept coming until he was close enough to lift me off the chair, taking my place and settling me on his lap instead.

“How did you find me?”

His jawline hardened as a muscle in it jumped. “Your note said you’d be at your studio.”

“Yeah, but nobody knows about this place. Only about the other studio in the attic, where I do all of my painting. It’s supposed to be a secret that Enzo converted the safe room in his basement into a studio for me.”

“It isn’t a secret from everyone.” His arms tightened around me. “Does it bother you that I know about this place now?”

“No.” His hold loosened a little.

“Yes.” And tightened again.

“I don’t know.” I dropped my head against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t say it bothers me that you know, but I’m not sure if it’s okay that you’re here. Although it’s my studio, this place is for DeLuca family business. And by your choice, you’re not a part of that.”

“True,” he conceded softly. “But to answer your original question, I knew where to find you because I asked Nic. He told me about this studio.”

My head jerked back, and I looked at him in shock. That wasn’t the answer I was expecting because it blurred the line in the sand when it came to where Christian stood in regard to the family business.