Beautiful Beast (Perfectly Imperfect: Mafia Legacy #1)

“Umm . . . Where is—” I start to ask, but I’m already sliding forward.

“Here,” Rafael says while holding the switch on the outward edge of the seat base. “I don’t have any extra cushions,” he continues while pressing another control to raise the seat, “but I’ll make sure there’s one in the vehicle from now on.”

“Cushions?”

“Yes.” He rounds the car and gets in on the passenger side. “It’ll be easier for you to see over the wheel with additional padding.”

I shake my head. Did The Sicilian just tease me?

“Do you have GPS?” I ask as I start the engine. “I can’t find my way over those damn winding dirt roads.”

“I like the winding dirt roads. One of the main reasons I love the Taormina area is because there aren’t many highways around here.”

“What’s wrong with nice solid highways?”

“They fuck up the landscape.”

I steal a look at him with the corner of my eye. “How are you feeling?”

“Strange.”

Alarms instantly go off in my head. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never let anyone drive my car before.”

“Why not?”

“As I told you already, I don’t like having my things touched. That includes my vehicles. My clothes.” He turns on the GPS, then meets my gaze. “My bed.”

Biting my lower lip, I quickly look back at the road in front of us. I’ve been wearing Rafael’s clothes since I got here. In fact, he went to great lengths to make me wear nothing but his clothes for days after my arrival. And I’ve been sleeping in his bed all this time.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because, long ago, I lost everything I owned and had nothing left that was mine. Every single thing I have now, I fought through blood and sweat to possess, but I gave up a large chunk of my soul doing it.” The easy cadence of his words changes, and his tone shifts, taking on an edge. “I don’t share things I had to barter my soul for, Vasilisa.”

“But you shared them with me.”

“I did.” Crow’s-feet radiate from the corners of his playful eyes. “Because you’re mine, too.”

That’s such a chauvinistic line. But instead of raising my hackles, his possessiveness sends a pleasant warmth throughout my chest. His words leave me melting. God help me. I’m moments away from curling up at his side and purring like a happy little kitten.

“I’m not yours,” I mumble and turn onto the main road. “Blood loss is making you delusional.”

“Then, you will be.” Rafael opens the glove box and takes out a pack of cigarettes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I gape at him.

“What?”

“Smoking can lead to a higher chance of you bleeding out and also affect the healing of the wound, that’s what.” I rip the pack out of his hand and throw it through the open window.

“You do realize that if I die, you’ll be free to return home, don’t you ?” He sets his warm palm on my thigh, right over the flesh made bare by the slit in my dress. “You know, I can vividly envision your beautiful promise of where the dogs will chew me up and shit out my remains. It’s probably the most intriguing death threat I’ve ever received.”

My fingers tighten on the wheel, and I keep my eyes firmly glued to the stretch of road beyond the windshield. He’s right. With him out of the picture, I’d be able to go free. The possibility never actually crossed my mind. Actually, the mere notion of something bad happening to him triggers a falling sensation in the pit of my stomach.

I step harder on the gas pedal.

His hand slides to my inner thigh, then drifts up. “Mmm . . . I had no idea there are such advantages to being the passenger.”