Maid for the Mafia

**ROMANY**

*He said keep your eyes closed, so you really should do it!*

*But what if he's hurt?*

*What if those gunshots were-*

The sound of the door unlatching on my right is so surprising that I let loose with a short scream.

"Doll?" Mickey's voice breaks through like sunshine splitting the black clouds of a storm.

"Mickey..." I whisper, relief settling my bones as I feel him climb back into the SUV and lock the door. "I heard gunshots," I say, opening my eyes, despite that he has yet to grant me permission.

My first sight of him is somewhat blurry, so I rub my eyes a little and blink a few times to focus. He's leaning back against the seat with his body angled in my direction and his legs spread wide enough for me to climb between. And *God* how I want to, but he's still wearing that look. The one that says he's closed himself off.

"Where are we?" I ask, taking a quick look out of the front and side windows to see nothing but green. We seem to be parked beneath a couple of beautifully groomed willow trees, with branches that fall like curtains all around us, and a gap for an opening at the rear of the vehicle. Beyond that though, I can see the pathway that curves toward Alex's back patio, and the man made hill that the pool is built against. "We're at the back of the estate. Where the Box is located," Mickey informs me, his face carefully blank. "Kale was overdue for a visit."

I almost smile at that. "The Box?" I remember vaguely hearing Mickey tell Tiny to place Enzo in the Box that day he tried to shoot me. "Where you were keeping Enzo?"

"That's right," Mickey says absently. "It's where we hold all the trash we collect until it's disposed of. No one that isn't intimately involved is ever allowed back here. The regular house staff are made to understand this immediately before being hired. They are warned *never* to even *accidentally* wander in this direction. Doing so is always considered a threat and is acted upon immediately by any man stationed on this side of the property. They already know what the consequences are."

"I was never *made* to understand *any* of that!" I quip sharply.

Mickey flashes a quick grin. "It was probably somewhere in that fucked up contract that you signed with Alex."

"He *never* made that part clear!" I complain, getting heated. "In fact, I almost expressly remember him telling me I could explore the grounds!"

Again Mickey smiles, his eyes shuttering. "I'm sure if you had happened upon the box and been detained because of it, you would have become the exception to the rule." He loses his smile and his eyes dance around my face. "Even the Professor was kept there for a while."

My head jerks in his direction. *Matthew? Is he talking about Matthew?*

The sparkling green of his irises seem to have regained some of their vibrance with that admission and the relaxed state of his muscles tells me that the tension he was carrying before is near forgotten.

Without missing a beat, I say, "It was you at that restaurant that day. You're the reason Matthew called me, aren't you?"

He doesn't confirm it, but there's a sudden sadness in his eyes that I don't rightly understand. "He'll never hurt another female again, I promise."

Just like that I know that Matthew is gone and although I know I shouldn't, I feel cheated. "I wish I would have been allowed to see him one last time."

Mickey immediately tenses, jerking forward and away from the backseat when he does. "What in the fuck for?"

My lips slowly begin to stretch into a somewhat sadistic smile and I shrug. "I'm supposed to be the maid and I think I might have thoroughly enjoyed my work that day."

The laugh that escapes him is immediate and carefree, lighting his face in the sexiest way imaginable and I'm suddenly reminded that he's got a girl waiting for him at the airport.

I chew on my lip, lowering my gaze to the floorboard and his cleverly polished shoes. "There's no Maldives for us after all, I guess."

Mickey huffs a quick breath and I watch his fists tighten in his lap as he studies me. "Don't do this to me, Doll. You know how I feel about you. Don't use it against me."

I gaze up to find him staring at me so intensely that fire starts to bloom in my chest. I've always been blown away by Mickey and his intensity. The weight of his gaze alone is no small thing. His is woeful and dark, the vibrant jungle green of his irises naught but a simple thread around the black abyss of their forbearing pupils. There aren't any lines around his eyes. No crow's feet, nor smile lines. He's perfect... and try as I might I cannot think of one single reason why someone as handsome and as confident as I've known him to be - even as he probably was four years ago - would have opted for hanging back in the shadows and playing phantom, to engineering a way to get introduced.

I mean... there are so many different things he could have done to get my attention. Stepping out into the light for instance, then maybe waltzing directly into my path. I can pretty much guarantee that if he had shown me even a fraction of what he was feeling back then, I would have probably fallen head over heels in love with him right from the start.

Why? Because as ridiculously flattering as it is to be told that you have been the star of someone's fantasy for years, it is ultimately more magical to have a man like him - someone ruthless and powerful and so completely out of reach - swoop into your life and do what he has done for me since the very moment I met him in Alex's dining

room.

Obsess. Protect. Consider. Romance. Even beg.

And oh my God how I needed that back then!

"Tell me," I whisper, watching as his chest begins to rise and fall erratically. "How do you feel about me? I want to hear it."

He huffs, dropping his gaze and leaning forward in his seat to balance his elbows on his knees and glare at the ground. His jaw is working overtime as he keeps his head hung in defeat. "I have to go, Doll. I-"

"Tell me!" I snap. "I get it, you're leaving. I know you're marrying that fat bastard's daughter so that you can protect me from what you've done. But I need to hear it and if you don't tell me *right now* how you feel, then I won't ever believe it was true."

Finally his head jerks up and his eyes fall over me so slowly I can almost feel their heat. When he speaks his voice sounds breathless and haunted, "I'm in love with you, Doll. Always have been."

My heart thunders and fresh tears burn behind my eyes. Looking at him after what he's just confessed, sends me down a tunnel of mixed grief and despair. Not because he's in love with me, of course not! But because he's been one hundred and fifty percent straight with me from the very fucking beginning. I never have to wonder if he's thinking about me, never have to worry about seeing him with the new secretary or the old secretary or the waitress or the maid! And now I'm going to lose him to a rapist's daughter.

He's always been all about me and just now... the sadness in his eyes... it's crippling.

"Mickey..." I whimper, I can't help myself, the tears have collected and burned, evaporated and dried, and now - maybe because I've been fighting them back on repeat - they're reinforced... so yeah... they're basically holding me hostage and I've suddenly found it impossible to speak past the stone in my throat.

"Doll..." he whispers, but he doesn't reach for me and that in and of itself speaks like nothing else ever has.

"Don't do it," I squawk, sputtering as my pain begins to rain down from both eye lids. "Don't you dare!"

I want to grab him! I want to leap forward and wrap myself around him, hold on for dear life and refuse to let him go... but I don't, because I WILL NOT add the memory of his pushing me away to my already panicked heart.

"Don't do what, doll?" he chokes out, and as my tears begin to fall a bit, I can see his hands flex and unflex, as if they are fighting not to touch me. A defeated breath stutters into my chest as my gaze wanders from his hands to his thighs and I note the same thing happening with his muscles *everywhere.*

He wants to give in. He wants to...

Come on Ro... stop being a chicken shit!

Either grow the fuck up and put yourself on the line for him or cluck, cluck, and flap your wings.

He gives his all and you give... blow jobs...

Fuck! Okay Shit!

If Mickey had just ignored his bosses years ago, then I might never have tumbled into

the dark of the path I was on when I crashed into Alex's lifestyle. We might have actually been together. I would have treasured this man! I know that I would have!

I know I DO!!! But... does HE know?

It is time to tell him then and damn the consequences.

*Fuck it, here goes nothing.*