He was the leader of the mafia. I
was about to fall in love with him, and his name…Cole Mauricio.
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I shouldn’t
have remembered him.
He was just
a guy who walked through a restaurant. I didn't know his name. We never made
eye contact. There was no connection between us at all.
But I could
feel him.
The tingle
down my spine. The command in his presence. The snap of tension in the air
around him. That was the first time I saw him, and I was captivated.
The second
time was different.
He was in
the mysterious back elevator of my apartment building. Our eyes met for a
fleeting second before the doors closed, and I was staggered. My breath was
robbed. My senses on high alert. My body hummed.
That was
just the beginning.
He was the
leader of the mafia. I was about to fall in love with him, and his name…
Cole
Mauricio
Excerpt
Once inside
the elevator, I stood to one side, watching him. He returned my gaze.
We still did
not touch.
My chest
tightened, hoping no one would call the elevator at that moment. We sailed past
the lobby, the second floor, and stopped at mine. I put in the code, and the
doors opened to my home.
I drew in a
breath, filling my lungs again. God, it was time.
Stepping out
with shaky knees, I bypassed the light switch. The full moon lit up my entire
floor. I went to the kitchen and paused at the island. “Did you want something
to drink?” I caught sight of the tequila and wine on the counter. There was
more than enough.
Cole stepped
up behind me and followed my gaze. “Were you going to have a party?” he asked,
his breath coating the back of my neck.
I shivered,
closing my eyes for one delicious moment. “I stocked up. I thought a friend was
coming over tonight.”
His hand
rested on my back, nudging my sweater aside to touch my skin. “He?”
“She. Sia.”
I looked over my shoulder. He was so close. “She stood me up for a date.”
A faint
smile showed. “I need to send her a thank-you card.”
“Please
don’t sign it.”
“Why not?”
I turned
around, easing my back against the island. Cole placed his hands on either side
of me, trapping me in place.
“Because
she’s slightly obsessed with you, though she’s in love with someone else now.
She could circle back,” I joked.
“Me?”
“We saw you
one night.”
“When?” He
leaned away, but his hands remained on the counter. It was like he was giving
me breathing space on purpose.
“At
Gianni’s. We went there the night I moved in.”
He didn’t
move, but I could feel him pulling away. A protest started in my head, but I
bit back the words. He didn’t reply. He was waiting for me instead.
I continued,
“You came in with a bunch of men and went upstairs. That was it.”
His eyes
narrowed. “Did you talk to anyone?”
“What do you
mean?”
“The staff?”
“About you?”
“About
anything.”
My forehead
wrinkled. “Sia networked with the hostess. They exchanged cards. Sia said the
girl was a model. She recognized her from the Gala. That was it. Oh, well,
another server sat with us for a drink later on. But they mostly talked with
Sia about the Gala and about photographers—stuff like that.”
He relaxed,
his hands loosening their hold on the counter. I was scared to ask what he was
so worried they’d told us.
“I don’t
know who you are.” I lifted a hand, placing it on his chest. His heart was
racing, just like mine. My mouth parted in surprise. “If that’s what you’re
worried about.”
He glanced
down at my hand and held still. He was thinking something over. I held my
tongue, worried it was me, that he was second-guessing this night for us. I
wanted to tell him there was nothing to worry about, but it sounded ridiculous.
I really had no idea. So I waited it out, my heart pressing against my rib
cage.
When he
looked back up, the hunger was in his eyes again—dark, primal, and more evident
than ever. He took my hand and leaned in, closing the distance between us. With
his other hand, he cupped the side of my face. “I wasn’t second-guessing this.
I want you to know that.” His touch was tender.
“What were
you thinking about?”
“Something
else, but it wasn’t you.”
“This is one
of those moments where you wish you could tell me, but you can’t? Not yet?”
The corner
of his mouth lifted. His eyes moved from mine to my lips. “Something like that,
yes.”
“Mmmm-hmmm,”
I started to tease, but then his head dipped down, and his lips were on mine.
I gasped.
The pleasure was immediate. His mouth was gentle, but as he felt my body’s
reaction, he applied pressure. His touch grew more demanding, then I was
kissing him back. I wanted more. Someone groaned. That was me.
His hand
slid around to the back of my neck. He held me in his grip as his mouth
explored mine, opening over me and slipping inside. My hands grasped his
shoulders, just holding on. All I could focus on was his tongue. I met his with
mine and reveled in the sensation. But it wasn’t enough. Need shot through my
whole body.
My hands
slid under his shirt and moved over his back and shoulders. His body was just
as powerful as his presence. I felt the shift of his muscles. They trembled
under my hands. The feeling was intoxicating. I had power over him, and I
wanted more. I wanted to see how much power I actually had.
Pulling
back, I studied him.
He was
panting lightly. So was I.
I could see
him wondering what I was going to do, so I reached back to the counter and
started to lift myself. His hands caught the backs of my thighs, and he lifted
me the rest of the way. Now sitting on the edge of the island, my legs parted,
and he was back between them. His mouth went right to mine.
I couldn’t
get over what I was doing. I didn’t care.
I didn’t
think I would care the next day, the day after, or however long this lasted. I
had no clue. I only knew I had one night. One long night.
Author Information
I
didn't begin writing until after undergraduate college. There'd been storylines
and characters in my head all my life, but it came to a boiling point one day
and I HAD to get them out of me. So the computer was booted up and I FINALLY
felt it click. Writing is what I needed to do. After that, I had to teach
myself how to write. I can't blame my teachers for not teaching me all those
years in school. It was my fault. I was one of the students that was wishing I
was anywhere but at school! So after that day, it took me lots of work until I
was able to put together something that resembled a novel. I'm hoping I got it
right since someone must be reading this profile! And I hope you keep enjoying
my future stories.
About Kristen Proby:
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Kristen Proby is the author of the bestselling With Me In Seattle and Love Under the Big Sky series. She has a passion for a good love story and strong, humorous characters with a strong sense of loyalty and family. Her men are the alpha type; fiercely protective and a bit bossy, and her ladies are fun, strong, and not afraid to stand up for themselves.
Kristen lives in Montana, where she enjoys coffee, chocolate and sunshine. And naps.
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