De Lucci’s Obsession

I stood under the shower for thirty minutes with the smell of onions lingering under my nose. I was too wired to sleep. The fleshy hands and the weight of that man’s body … I could feel them surrounding me like a suffocating shroud. What would have happened if Cesar hadn’t shown up?

I shuddered at the thought.

Tommy asked me several times if I was okay. He threatened to tell my brothers that the older De Lucci was bugging me. Little did he know that the passing flirtation with Paulie’s brother had been the highlight of my evening. I replayed my encounter with Cesar to push away the unpleasant one of Onion Breath, but my nose had latched onto the stench.

Desperate for sleep because I still had to study, I opened the blinds and stared into the lit-up night sky of New York City.

The shrieking phone startled me.

It was three a.m. Who in the world would be calling me?

Paulie?

What the hell?

I answered the phone, hoping his wife hadn’t gone off the rails and plotted to murder him.

“Is Cesar with you?” he asked without preamble.

Confused, I said, “What the hell are you smoking? Why would he be with me?”

“He’s been drinking. He called me an hour ago and said he was going to see you.”

“All right. You lost me. Why would he think to see me? If he’s worried about last night, I’m fine.”

“Are you? You don’t sound like you’ve just woken up.”

Damn him. “Well, he’s not here.”

“Humor me and check outside your window.”

I returned to the window and squinted at the street below. A man was leaning against the streetlight. The silhouette fit Cesar to a tee. In fact, I’d bet all my passing midterm grades that it was him.

Swearing under my breath, I said, “You De Lucci men are nuts.”

Paulie chuckled. “Can you collect him and have him give me a call?”

“You’re saying I should let your crazy brother into my apartment?”

“Hurting you is the last thing he’d do, Ava. Trust me on that.”

“You owe me for this.” I ended the call and headed to the door. My hand closed over the knob, and I hesitated. This was crazy. I backed away and paced the kitchen and debated calling Paulie to come collect his brother instead. But I could still smell onions in my nose, and it reminded me that Cesar rescued me. Before I could second-guess myself again, I tore out of the apartment but had the sense to descend the steps quietly.

Disabling the alarm of our brownstone entrance, I opened the door.

The figure across the street straightened and started toward me. Anticipation and apprehension warred inside me. My desire to hold the door open clashed with the alarm bells urging me to slam it shut. Although Cesar was sinisterly clad in all black, it wasn’t danger to my life that was triggering my flight response. No, it was the awareness between my legs and my nipples’ sensitivity to the fabric covering them. A sensual awareness. One that started the second I laid eyes on him again.

He never slowed down to ask permission if he could come in. He strode right into the foyer and into me. Arms wrapped around me as though he was saying hello to a long-lost friend. The heat of his breath fanned my cheeks. “Ava.” He said my name like a prayer. Okay, maybe long-lost lover was more appropriate.

Grasping at some semblance of sanity, I pushed against his chest. He smelled so good, a heady combination of expensive scotch, cologne, and cigarettes. “You’re nuts. How long were you standing out there?”

“Forty-five minutes.”

“You have to be really quiet. Robert is a light sleeper.”

He obliged me by removing his shoes. And then with him in his socked feet, we went up to my unit.

All through our ascent, I was worried my brother would find me sneaking in with a man. Not just any man, but the man the SDNY office might be interested in.

Oh, the tangled web we McGraths find ourselves in.

I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to do with Cesar when I let him into my apartment. It was like sneaking a wounded wild animal into my house. There was something feral in his eyes that told me he was hurting. I led him into my kitchen which had suddenly felt too small. I put a kettle on the stove and ignited the burner. I could offer him hot chocolate or tea.

When I turned to ask which one he wanted, I noticed his dark hair appeared mussed unlike earlier this evening when it was gelled back, indicating he’d taken a shower. His eyes were bloodshot, face tight.

“Did you drive over here?”

He shook his head. “My man dropped me off.”

I’d always seen him in impeccably pressed shirts and a suit with a serious face, which was why I always thought Paulie’s brother was boring like Sean when he talked about the stock market.

But seeing Cesar less than perfectly starched worried me. It did, however, make him less distant.

Earlier that night in the mansion’s kitchen, we’d exchanged more words with each other than the entire time I’d known him, yet he still seemed far away—like a notion instead of reality. But here, in my apartment, he felt real. A living, breathing, warm blooded male. My temptation clad in black.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I asked.

“If you’re making something for yourself.”

“I’ve got hot cocoa and tea.”

He smiled. “I haven’t had hot chocolate in a while.”

I shot him a brief smile and motioned for him to sit while I headed to the retro-style phone I had on the kitchen wall and called Paulie. He answered on the first ring.

“He’s been collected,” I told him before handing Cesar the phone.

“You shouldn’t have bugged Ava … well, as you can tell, I’m fine. It’s done. Now go back to sleep before your wife wakes up.” Cesar returned the phone to me, and I re-hooked the receiver to its cradle.

He glanced around. “Cozy place.”

I sat in front of him. “I’ll get straight to the point.” His eyes flared when I said this as though he delighted in my directness. But the side effect was that I momentarily forgot my point. I gave myself a mental shake, trying to squash my awareness to his potent male pheromones. “You showing up in front of my building is weird as hell …”

“I worried about you.” His jaw tightened. “You were attacked at my house while under my care.”

“Technically, I’m not under your care. We were at a job, and we’re insured although I need to review our coverage. It could be you’re still liable for your guest’s—” I was rambling, so I cut myself off and said, “Anyway. I appreciate that you’ve gone above and beyond … but you could have called and checked on me.”

“I needed to see you’re okay with my own eyes.” He leaned over and crooked a finger under my chin where the tip of the knife pierced my skin.

“It’s just a nick. It’s nothing.”

My words didn’t appease the murderous look on his face.

“I doubt you’ve slept.” He dropped his hand and the chair creaked when he leaned back.

I crossed my arms and rubbed my biceps. “No. But, I’ll be fine.”

“I wanted to kiss you.”

“Whoa there, buster … you’re giving me whiplash.”

I was still processing his statement, when he added, “I wanted to kiss you earlier tonight, but that bastard ruined everything.”

“What?” I’d come to a conclusion. Trying to understand my reactions to Cesar would require a college thesis, but it boiled down to this: I wanted to jump him or I wanted to run far, far away from him. There was no middle ground. It was give in or get out.

He smiled wistfully, oblivious to the war he’d started between my logical and illogical brain.

“And when you came to get me just now.” His gaze darkened. “I wanted to push you against the wall and kiss the fuck out of you. But because of your attack, I held back. I wasn’t sure where your head was…”

The intensity emanating from the man in front of me was too strong, I had to stand up and put some distance between us. Perfect excuse to prepare the hot chocolate. I’d never had a knife held to my throat. I’d been bullied in school. My brothers defended me and beat up those assholes. Working at the bar, I’d had my share of handsy customers and I’d learned to put them in their place. Besides, given what Charles and Dad used to do for the mob, I could unequivocally say, I wasn’t living in fairy-tale land.

The kettle started whistling. I still hadn’t looked at Cesar while I poured the hot water over the hot chocolate powder and handed him the mug with a teaspoon to stir. I resumed my seat in front of him.

“This is good. Belgian?” He commented after taking a sip.

“Besides coffee, this is one of my guilty pleasures. Come to think of it … dammit.” I inhaled the hot chocolate. Why didn’t I think to indulge myself in the aroma of dark chocolate.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Okay, the reason I couldn’t sleep was because I couldn’t get rid of that guy …” I shook my head. “What’s his name?”

“Silvio,” he growled.

“Silvio’s onion breath … good Lord. I showered and everything, but I still can’t get the smell out of my nose.”

“Psychological?”

“Right? Why didn’t I think of making hot chocolate … well, maybe the caffeine in it might keep me awake, but it’s better than having that blasted onion breath still filling my nostrils.”

Cesar’s gaze dipped to his mug. Without looking at me, he said, “Are you saying you’re just trying to replace the smell you associate with an unpleasant experience with a more pleasant one?” When he glanced up, his eyes captured mine.

“Well, sort of,” I took a sip of my hot chocolate.

“Can I offer myself?” he stated bluntly.

The chocolate went down the wrong way, and I started coughing. My unexpected guest rose from his seat to pat my back.

“Seems to be a habit of yours whenever I’m around, Miss McGrath.” Amusement laced his tone.

“What can I say? You have a way of making my breath snag.”

“That’s not very flattering.”

When I recovered, I was keenly aware that he had descended on his haunches and was still staring at me intently. “I wasn’t trying to flatter you.”

Why did it feel like I couldn’t breathe? “You’re making me self-conscious.” I wanted to lean in closer. Inhale him, his scent competing with the deliciousness of hot chocolate.

Cesar’s face was an inch from mine, maybe less. Warm sensations ghosted over my skin and heat pooled between my legs. This time I didn’t back away. It had been six months since I’d had sex and Cesar was better than a one-night-stand with a stranger. An aching pulsed in my core and with it the signs of my arousal. Warmth and wetness.

I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t.

Instead, he helped me to my feet.

He picked up both our mugs and led me to the couch in front of the fireplace and I was only too aware of the slickness between my legs as I moved.

“Sit,” he murmured, lowering our drinks to the coffee table.

“That should be my line. I’m the host,” I said, but I did it anyway.

An indulgent smile touched his lips. Like one you’d give a child who thought she was in-charge.

“Can I start the fire?” he asked.

“Sure. Make yourself at home.” I was being sarcastic, but he didn’t seem to notice.

That moment in the kitchen was gone, and it was obvious someone put the brakes on us jumping on each other. And that someone certainly wasn’t me.

I was relieved and disappointed. However, Cesar gave me something else to be mesmerized about with how he deftly kindled the fire that chased away the chill from the room. He settled beside me on the couch, leaving a foot between us. He leaned forward and grabbed our hot chocolates and handed me my mug. Together we watched the fire and listened to its crackling.

“What happened to Silvio?” I asked, unable to hold back my question any longer.

“He won’t bother you again.” A hard edge entered his voice.

“Cesar …”

“He touched you. He’s gone.”

“I must be missing something here …”

I could see the muscle ticking in his jawline before he turned to me and awarded me with a glare. “Let me spell it out. He touched what’s mine.”

“Mine … you mean …”

“Yes … you.”

I gulped the hot chocolate, feeling the burn in my throat, and then jumped to my feet, returning his glare. “When did I become yours?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.”

“It wouldn’t make sense yet. Just trust me.”

This attractive man was telling me to trust him blindly. If he were ugly, would I trust him?

I continued to glare at him. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“We’re not in the right frame of mind to discuss this.”

“To discuss why I’m supposedly yours.” I used air quotes around the “supposedly” with my fingers.

A muscle pulsed in his jaw. “Fine. I shouldn’t have said that. I consider you mine because you’re Paulie’s friend and, as such, consider you family. I consider family as mine. Happy now? That’s what I meant.”

I squinted my eyes at him, not sure if I believed this simplistic explanation.

“I just want to help you sleep, Ava,” he said softly.

Cesar

I would say anything to banish that bastard Silvio from her memory. When Ava told me she couldn’t sleep because his foul breath tormented her, something snapped inside me. Something akin to possessiveness. The next time she falls asleep, the only scent Ava should have is mine.

From the second I saw her by the open door wearing those shapeless pajamas, I’d been imagining what she wasn’t wearing underneath. How her skin would feel beneath my touch. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She probably thought because her breasts were small, I couldn’t see the outline of her nipples. My mouth watered to suck on her tits. To push her against the wall and kiss her, to shove my hand beneath the elastic of those pajamas and make her come.

But I fucking stopped myself because of goddamned Silvio.

“If you don’t let me help you sleep I will feel guilty that you almost got hurt.”

Her mouth fell open. “You’re a blatant manipulator.”

I bit back a smile. “I take my responsibilities very seriously.”

“So, I’m trusting you because you’re Paulie’s brother.” She cautiously lowered herself beside me.

With blood lust still pulsing furiously in my veins, I had no business showing up on Ava’s doorstep. Silvio, the motherfucker, had been disposed of by my men. He would never be found. But I wished him alive so I could kill him again. Ava needed me. She just wouldn’t admit it. What she didn’t know was how much I needed her too. To calm this storm inside me. This rage.

“I’m going to wrap my arms around you,” I told her. “Okay?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Let me know if it triggers anything.”

“I’m fine, Cesar. I’m telling you it’s just his breath …”

I edged closer … but then she abruptly held up a hand, panic on her face.

I stilled.

“Okay, wait. It’s also the weight of his … ugh. He pinned me against the wall, so I might freak out, but probably not,” she added quickly, “Because I really, really felt safe when you took me in your arms—”

I embraced her. Ava didn’t know what she’d given me. I needed, craved, to be her solace from her fears. Her fingers clutched my sweater, nose burrowing in the wool. She inhaled.

“You smell better,” she whispered.

Relief mixed with my humor. “I damn well hope so. Now hush. I’m just going to hold you, capisce?”

“You’re so warm.”

“Come on, Ava.” I scooted to the end of the couch and rearranged her so I had her cradled on my lap.

“I don’t know why I’m letting you do this,” she whispered.

“Because I make you feel safe?” I offered.

She chuckled. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you …”

She rubbed her cheek against my chest. “Sorry. Itchy.”

That action fueled a roar of satisfaction inside me. “Be my guest.”

She laughed briefly. “What didn’t you get a chance to tell me?”

“My thanks for indulging us with the delicious dinner. I’m guessing your mother is not too happy about it.”

She sighed. “Paulie said she kept turning away business from your family. We can’t afford to be choosy.”

“I respect her stand on this, but I’m impressed with how you pulled it off.”

“When there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“That’s your father talking.”

She glanced up at me and grinned. “You’ve heard him say that?”

I nodded. I wasn’t sure if this was going to dredge up sad memories, but judging from how her eyes sparkled, the memory was good. “Pop tried his best to keep your dad and brother out of prison. The evidence was just so damning. There was no way around it.”

“They knew the risks.” She stared at the fire. “The night of their arrest, I covered for them with my family. Dad was already separated from Mom, but she worried a lot because Charles had been spending too much time in his company.”

My arms tightened around her, but I didn’t interrupt because I wanted to know everything about this woman who had occupied my mind for the last few months.

“Sean got suspicious when they disappeared that night. I said they were at the Yankees game.” She glanced at me. “They were hijacking a truck with a shipment of generators. I found that out at the hearing. I knew they were planning a job, but I didn’t know the details then.” Ava blew out a breath. “Mom was furious with me. She didn’t speak to me for almost a month.”

“You were what? Seventeen at that time?”

She laid her head back on my chest. “Yes. Robert was the voice of reason and defended me. Said that there was nothing I could’ve done to stop them. I wasn’t about to rat them out.”

Somehow I had already formed this opinion of her. Ava was very much like her father. Tenacious and loyal. I also had a feeling the reason she was working so hard to save the pub was because she felt responsible for what happened to Cillian and Charles.

Silence and the warmth of the fire permeated the apartment. She was as lost in her own thoughts as I was lost in mine. I wanted to spend the night but needed to leave before daybreak. She didn’t need to deal with a family inquisition of why a De Lucci spent the night. I glanced outside. I could have one of my men pick me up at the corner.

“Ava?”

“Hmm …”

“Tell me how to disable the alarm.”

“It’s disabled.” She yawned. “Please enable it on your way out.”

“Right. What’s the code?”

She didn’t answer, and I thought she’d fallen asleep.

“You’re sneaky,” she said finally because I didn’t need the code if it was already disabled, but she rattled the numbers out to me.

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“And I’m only telling you this because you’re Paulie’s brother.”

Keep telling yourself that, cara. I’ve seen how you look at me. “Of course.”

A few minutes later, her breathing evened out. I sat with Ava a while longer, unwilling to let her go, never fathoming how content I would be watching a woman sleep. The evening stirred up toxic shit stemming from Lorenzo’s death. I blamed myself for not seeing the signs of my brother’s despair. Maybe if I’d not been so damned consumed in my efforts to distance myself from the family, I could’ve helped him. After Lorenzo died, my mother succumbed to heartbreak. Vengeance was my absolution; I became exactly who I never wanted to become. Numbing my emotions was the only way to function.

I felt no joy, no sadness, and no hope.

My soul was a black hole of emptiness I kept falling into, never finding its bottom.

Until I saw a picture of Ava.

The moments that morning I opened the file on Robert McGrath were captured in my memory forever.

I didn’t leave for De Lucci Transnational offices that day because I had a sit down with the Camorra underboss and his two capos to settle territorial disputes. Why they couldn’t deal with this internally was not my problem, but I was careful to remain relevant within criminal organizations whose businesses intersected with mine.

The file on McGrath could have waited. I had a pile of documents waiting for my signature. And yet something pulled me to take the pouch in my hand.

It was one of those brown accordion files with an elastic cord closure overlaid by the seal of the private investigator firm I hired. Taking out the documents, I reviewed the financial information first. I was certain the SDNY did this as well to evaluate an employee’s susceptibility to bribery. There was no question which side of the law this particular McGrath fell on because Paulie told me it had been painful to see Ava as the only family who’d appeared during her father and brother’s indictments.

The first pictures were of Robert and his wife and their three kids going for a stroll in a park. Just photographs of them doing mundane day-to-day activities. Then a close-up of a young woman commanded my attention.

This was … Ava? Paulie’s friend.

An intense jolt speared through my chest. The first time I saw my brother’s friend was in the sunroom. Thin arms, thin legs and her red hair partially covered her face. But my skin crawled seeing the scattered pages and magazines on the floor. I couldn’t look in her direction because I was sure my scowl would scare her off. My OCD was not her problem.

Over the years, I’d seen Ava around. I remembered her mostly as a gangly teenager and simply as Paulie’s friend. Maybe I was stuck up and arrogant, thinking a teenager didn’t merit my attention, but she certainly had my complete attention now.

No longer a teenager but a young woman.

I studied the photo. Her jawline was too angular, almost too strong to be on a woman’s face, yet her luminous blue eyes and generous lips mesmerized me in their breathtaking symmetry.

The other photographs were group pictures, but my eyes frantically sought her face in them. Then I picked up the first photo that captured my focus and sank into my chair.

For the first time in a long time I felt something.

Ava’s face delighted me.

Deep inside, I wasn’t quite as hollow; there was an absence of emptiness.

Ava stirred in my arms and mumbled, pulling me out of the day when my interest in her started. I stared at her face and traced a finger on the contours of its bewitching lines.

The amount of photographs I requested from my PI was a testament that I’d gone beyond simple interest in the guise of investigating her brother. My initial fascination with the beauty she’d become was quickly overtaken by preoccupation with every facet of her life.

Ava McGrath had become my obsession.