Huh? Maria watched him leave with that smirk on his face like it had been a dream. What the hell did he mean by that?
Taking a huge gulp of the champagne, she wasn’t even sure what number of glasses she was on, so she thought it was best to sit back down and maybe try to nurse the next one.
She hadn’t sat down for a few minutes when the youngest Luciano brother came up to her. His black and white suit jogged something in Maria’s memory, but she still could only see Dominic’s young face that was very reminiscent of Cassius’s.
“Dom wants you to follow me.”
“What?” She continued to stare at him, still trying to place the memory.
Cassius tugged at her hand. “Just come with me.”
Fuck it. Maria threw the rest of her drink down her throat while the little Luciano began to drag her across the room. She unsteadily set the empty glass down on a passing tray, almost sending it flying from how fast Cassius was walking.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked what she should have the second he had taken her hand.
When he didn’t answer, she wondered if she should worry.
The coldness of the young hand had her looking down at him, seeing what she hadn’t seen when she had first met him in the Luciano home. She couldn’t believe she had missed it ….
Seconds away from snatching her hand from his, he led her behind a black, sheer curtain then stopped in front of a hidden, swaying door.
“Dom’s waiting for you in there” was all Cassius said before he left.
Knowing it led to the kitchen, where she had met the caterer earlier, she lightly swung the door open, seeing it was almost completely cleaned out since dinner had ended a while ago. Only one chef, who was putting up the knives, remained. The only other person in there was Dominic, patiently waiting for her to come in.
“You’re not scared, are you, princess?” he asked when she remained standing on the other side of the door.
Maria took those words as a challenge and made her way across the barrier, letting the door glide closed behind her, cocooning them in the room, alone. “Of course not.”
Dominic lifted an inked hand. “Good.”
Staring at his palm, her stomach somersaulted, the unusual feeling forcing her to reach for the hand in order to keep herself firmly on her strappy stilettos.
Everything seemed to suddenly move in slow motion, her senses changing instantly. His grip on her hand was different than she had thought it would be—his skin strangely rough yet soft at the same time. His scent closed in on her as he dragged her closer to him and placed his other hand on her waist. He smelled … Fiery? Burnt? Maybe hot even? Fuck, the champagne must be working.
Dominic stared down at her, looking a bit confused. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve never danced before?”
“Because I haven’t.” She tried her best not to let that hurt her pride. “Not with a guy, that is.”
“Just relax and listen.”
It felt strange to be held by a man, let alone agree to let one touch her or to be this close. To slow dance meant you needed to be a moldable figure in someone’s hands as they led, something Maria was far from accustomed to.
Closing her eyes, she took a long, deep breath, encouraging each bone in her body to relax. The more she did, the more the slow song entered her ears, making the stiffness go away, letting him mold her to him.
Dominic pulled her a tad closer. “See? It’s not so bad.”
“Yeah, not for you.”
“That’s true.” He laughed. “I’m sure I’m enjoying this more than you.”
“If only your father could see you now.” The joking words seemed to have slipped from her alcohol-induced lips before she could stop them.
Maria was savage, but that was probably a bit too far, even for her. It was his father, after all, and she didn’t know what kind of relationship they’d had.
“I’m sorry. I—”
“It’s all right,” Dominic assured her, clearly unbothered. “I’d pay good money for him to see us dancing together right now. I’m sure he’d fucking rather die all over again.”
Relieved that she hadn’t put her foot in her mouth, she started to relax with him even more, letting him slowly sway them to the music. Yep, it’s definitely working now.
“I take it you and him didn’t get along?”
“We had a complicated relationship. How about you and your father?”
“Complicated.” She decided to use his word, thinking it fit. “But I have a feeling yours might be more so.”
His hand still in hers, he gripped her soft, slender one slightly tighter. “Yes, you’re probably right.”
She saw black, Gothic letters inked his knuckles around hers. O-V-E-R. Unable to keep her eyes from drifting to the hand at her waist, she could see the majority of the rest of the letters, able to fill in the blanks. C-O-M-E.