Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

A Gift

**SANTOS**

"The package has been deposited and is secure, Santos. ETA for arrival should put us there half an hour before midnight tomorrow," Juarez tells me.

He's standing at my office door, probably looking like a cat that's just had his cream, with his dark beady eyes aimed at the back of my head. I'm sitting behind my desk, my chair turned around to face the unshaded bay windows, but even with my back turned I know what that gremlin is thinking. His misconception is in his belief that I am unaware of what he is planning. He has been one of my men for ten years.

Ten long years of a friendship that has gone from good to over with just the appearance of a single female. A female that *tried* to *kill* me no less!

*Really Tony? Are you sure you want to do this?*

But yes. Yes I am sure. Because although at one time, I was positive that I would *never* ever be one of those males that falls all over himself for the sake of a woman - it has happened. And despite that I have known of the Red Raider for *years* - even *known* I'd more than likely face her one day - I never thought to prepare myself for any more than the task of killing the woman.

end her. My *aunt* still hates me for not taking immediate aggressive action the way she expected. In truth, I was rather impressed with the natural born killer she seemed to represent, but I *knew* that one day it would be up to me to enact vengeance upon her. I just wasn't in any hurry to do it.

myself for the way I felt the moment I came face to face with her in

only pivotal,

wasn't any more than a symptom of oncoming heartburn - but in the back of my mind, I *knew*

woke the beast inside of me. A very *different* beast than I was used to concealing. It was the one thing in this world I never

I was harder than a steel spike, and because it never even occurred to me that she might *want me* in return, I thought of it as goodbye. Because I was sure that by the time my men were done ravaging her, she would

waited for him to take the light from her eyes. When he sliced off her pants and growled out his arousal, I tried not to listen anymore. I was already preparing to deafen my ears just on the off chance that she might cry out in terror

of being wet for him and I saw red. Jealousy burned inside of me and for a moment, I actually hated her. But she denied it - said that *it wasn't him that she was wet for* - and

verbalize that it was *me* that she wanted, it was there in her eyes. Since that afternoon, that is all that I see when

my knees. To have her in my arms and to fall asleep every night staring into those liquid blue pools of worship, is all that I want. Maybe *that* is what I should have asked her for. Instead of trying to strongarm her into becoming one of *us.* Perhaps then I would have

I finally realize that I've yet

out. "What the