“I don’t want this part of your life”—he gestured around at the bakery—“to be broken. I want to break your will to resist me. You’re fighting too hard against what your body longs for.”
He was right about that, but I didn’t acknowledge it. I didn’t say anything. I barely breathed because I knew I couldn’t pretend to hate him anymore, not when he comforted me instead of mocking me, refused to rise to the bait when I tried to piss him off, and made it obvious he cared about my pleasure too.
“You know what would make me happy? If you came to me after a perfect day of baking and serving customers, took a long hot shower, got yourself open, slick, and ready for me, and offered me your perfect ass. That’s what I want.”
By the time he finished speaking, I was rock hard and tempted to do exactly what he said right then. He was so fucking seductive, but I couldn’t let myself forget who he really was. He was far more dangerous to me like this than when he was being harsh and demanding.
“I’m never going to give you that. I’m never going to be the sweet little submissive you want.”
Angelo laughed and shook his head. “Is that what you think I want?”
“Isn’t it?”
He stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers, making me shiver. “No, baby. I love the chase, the fight, the struggle. What I just described, that’s a fantasy that’s only good when I’ve had to fight to get there.”
I huffed. “You’re a sick bastard.”
“I am, and you’re enjoying the hell out of it.”
I didn’t bother to deny that. “I know I’m late, but I’ve got to get this cleaned up.”
“You should’ve been waiting for me upstairs, not destroying the sink.”
I tried to think of anything but what kind of punishment he would give me this time, yet my mind conjured up all manner of erotic torture. “What are you going to do to me?”
He gave me a predatory smile. “I have every intention of dealing with your transgression, but I don’t think you’d fully appreciate it right now.”
I wasn’t sure of that at all.
“I’m going to make a few calls, get this sink fixed for you, and then I’m taking you on a little trip.”
My heart rate sped up as my brain scanned through all the mafia movies I’d seen. Had I been wrong? Was this little trip going to end with me dumped in a lake somewhere? Or tied up in a basement? “You promised not to hurt me.”
Angelo shook his head. “Don’t look so fucking scared. We’re just going to have a picnic.”
“A p-picnic?” My heart literally fucking fluttered. People didn’t picnic with someone they hated.
“You’re listening. That’s good.”
“You—”
“I do occasionally make time for things other than cracking heads, committing crimes, and fucking men who owe me. Now go get cleaned up.”
Never one to just give in, I said, “I should be the one to handle this mess.”
“For once in your goddamn fucking life, quit being so stubborn and let me do this. You clearly need some help.”
He was right. I was in over my head. If I kept trying to do everything by myself, I was going to fall apart, give up, or go crazy, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to have the bakery open when I’d planned. I wanted him to handle it. I wanted him to take charge, protect me, and use his power to make everything all right. For once, I fucking wanted some help and not from just anyone but from the man I was terrified I was falling for. But I refused to admit any of that to him. “Okay, I’ll go shower and change, but I’m coming right back after that.”
“By that time, I’ll have everything settled. We’ll go pick up a picnic from my housekeeper, then get out of town for a while.”
“Out of town?”
“Not far. We’re going to Hull, to the fort out there. It’s one of my brother’s favorite spots. It’s quiet. A nice place to just sit and relax.”
“Okay.” I tried to imagine Angelo sitting and relaxing, but I couldn’t. He always seemed so full of restless energy.
I took a longer shower than I should have, but I needed the time to compose myself. When I was dressed, I returned to the bakery. Angelo was waiting there for me, looking very satisfied with himself.
“The plumber’s on his way. He’ll be here in a couple minutes, and Ralph”—he indicated the man who’d been guarding the bakery—“will wait for him. Nick will be back in the morning, and you will not turn him away this time.”
“I—”
“I’m not listening to any arguments.”
“I can’t afford to pay someone to do the work.”
“Don’t worry about the money. You already owe me. What’s a little more?”