Fall For My Ex’s Mafia Father

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I laugh at his stupid little game, shaking my head, hesitating. He reaches out and takes my hand, though, lifting and lowering our clasped fingers in a forced shake.

“Come on,” he whispers. “Try it.”

“Nice to meet you Rodrigo,” I murmur, flicking my eyes up to him, smirking a little.

“I’m a lion tamer,” he says,

pitching his voice lower as he takes on his role. “I spend my days

taming wild beasts and my

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nights…taming wild women. And who are you?” he asks, holding my hand tight. “Come on, Fay,” he urges in a whisper, giving me a little nudge with his shoulder when I hesitate. “You can be

anyone.”

I tilt my head back, giving into it, my hair falling back over my shoulders as I look up into the sky and consider my options. “I’m Sister Mary Alexander,” I say finally, smiling to myself as I decide. “I’m a Benedictine nun. I make fancy marzipan and sell it on the streets of Austria to raise money for the orphans under my

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care.”

“Fay,” I hear Ivan whisper, snapping me out of my imaginary wanderings and drawing my gaze immediately back to him. I blink in surprise when I see a smile

stretched across his face from

cheek. “You’re so weird,” he says, shaking his head at me a little,

“you said I could be anyone I wanted –”

right,” he laughs, his grin growing, “you can

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any fantasy at all –

through me. “I liked The

kid-

CC

reaches out to grab me, pressing his hand

CC

body closer to him so that I’m laying flat on the lounge

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working for

CC

was going for the opposite

the

moving the hand on my back to graze the side of my ass and move briskly down my thigh, his fingers teasing at the

“What?!”

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he continues, “do

and like, look at me disapprovingly? Or, actually, could you get a ruler and slap me on the

ridiculousness of it, and suddenly I find myself a little bit in love with his sense of humor,

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a moment later when my laughter fades a bit. I’m smiling up at him, not allowing myself to think too much about what I’m doing as I raise my hands to run them through his blonde hair, my eyes roving over the tattoos on his neck, suddenly wanting, very much, to

his chest. “What do a lion tamer and a