Cut Too Deep (26 page)

Mac: Can I stop by later to check on you? Please tell me you’re okay.

Hadley: I’m better than okay. I’m with Miller. I’ll talk to you tomorrow at work.

Mac: You sho’ will! *Jumps up and down while clapping hands.* I told you he’d come.

Hadley: Did not!

Mac: Did too! *Sticks tongue out!*

Hadley smiled and shoved the phone back in her purse.

Water ran through pipes in the wall when Miller started the shower. Hadley tried not to picture him naked. Although, she did find herself thinking about how their first time together would be. Having never slept with anyone she felt a connection to led Hadley to believe making love with Miller would be life changing. In those vulnerable thoughts, she felt terrified. Miller was experienced. Failing to please him in the bedroom would certainly be cause for Miller to reconsider their relationship. His promiscuity wasn’t a secret. He craved sex like she craved chocolate. Hadley smiled at the thought chocolate had never disappointed her and breathed through her anxiety. Their physical union was a definite. His feelings after were not, but Hadley refused to dwell in her lack of control and let it ruin her happiness.

Miller’s footsteps thumped in the hall and a door opened. His voice grew increasingly louder. Hadley got up and walked in his direction, realizing he was on the phone. He sounded angry and he was yelling. She stopped short of the room and listened through the door.

“You’re incompetence is unacceptable. Find out who paid for her. You have one week, and if anything happens to her in the meantime, I will hold you personally accountable. Are we clear?” Hadley heard paper rustling. “Good.”

The room went silent. She turned and went back to the kitchen. In a week, Miller will have found his wife, and Hadley worried how that would affect their delicate relationship. Miller assured her he was over Theresa, but Hadley had doubts how that may change once he found his wife, old habits and all. She added that to the pile of insecure thoughts she had no control over, ignoring the mean voice telling her how big the pile had grown.

Miller and Hadley sat on the couch in Hadley’s apartment. She felt blessed to see this side of him. He wasn’t the intimidating businessman anymore. In sweats, hair ruffled, eating takeout with chop sticks directly from the carton, he was relaxed and comfortable. She set her food down and wiped her face with a napkin.

“How old are you?” Hadley asked, thinking it was another question she could have discovered the answer to while stalking Miller on the internet.

Miller dropped the chopsticks in the paper container and set it on the coffee table.

“Thirty-One.”

Hadley calculated the age difference, thinking five years wasn’t that bad.

“And, how old are you, Ms. Walker?”

“Like, you don’t know.”

Miller smirked.

“A question answered with an accusation hinders a conversation in which we are trying to get to know each other.”

She held back laughter. He was a pompous ass, but a beautiful, kind, pompous ass.

“I think asking questions you know the answers to, courtesy of snooping into ones past, defeats the purpose entirely.”

“I disagree.” His eyes darkened. “How old are you?”

Hadley rolled her eyes and decided to play along.

“Twenty-Six.”

“See how easy that was.”

His self-assured grin had her shaking her head.

“Where did you grow up?”

“In the city.”

“Where did you go to college?”

“Columbia. I wanted to be a doctor.”  Hadley thought about how he took care of her the night before. She could see that in Miller. “But I didn’t graduate.”

“Why?”

“I invented and patented an invention in high demand. I had a choice to sell the patent, license it, or start my own company where I could not only manufacture, but maintain the rights. I chose the latter and dropped out.”

“How did you get started? The initial investment had to be substantial.”

“By going against my father’s wishes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I borrowed the capital I needed to get started from my Uncle Vito.”

Hadley broke out into uncontrollable laughter.

“I’m not finding the humor here, Love.”

“Seriously?” Hadley held her belly, while visions of Marlon Brando swam in her head. “Your family is Mafia. You have an Uncle Vito and it’s not the least bit humorous to you?” She righted and held her fingers out, pinching them together at the tips. “Did he make you an offer you couldn’t refuse?”

Her terrible attempt at impersonating Brando sent Miller into his own peals of laughter. He loved the unadulterated side of her. With her mask down, unguarded, she was never more beautiful. He pulled Hadley onto his lap and ran his nose along her jaw, stopping to nip at her earlobe.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

With her arms around his neck, Hadley pulled back to look at him.

“You have to admit that was funny.”

“Yes, Love. You’re quite the comedian.” Hadley removed her hands from his neck and positioned herself so she was lying in his lap. Miller played with her soft hair, twirling a long brown curl around his finger. “It wasn’t like that when I borrowed the money from Vito, although my father thought it would be. There were no stipulations or promises of returned favors with the loan. The interest was high, but I paid back every cent and doubled the interest. The only thing owed my uncle is gratitude for having faith in the empire I wanted to create. My company would be nothing if he hadn’t believed in me, since my father thought dropping out of Columbia was a useless waste of time and refused to help me financially.”

As Hadley listened to Miller talk, she heard the hint of animosity he held for his father.

“You sound very close to your uncle.”

“I am, much to my father’s dismay.”

“He doesn’t care for your uncle?”

“After grandfather died, Uncle Vito took over the role as Capofamiglia. My father didn’t want that life for me and was afraid if I got too close to my uncle that’s where I’d end up. He had valid reasons.” Miller held her gaze grinning slightly. “Don’t you dare laugh, but Vito is my Godfather, and, growing up, I looked up to him.”

Hadley couldn’t help it. She laughed, hard. Miller’s family was Mafia, and he had a Godfather named Vito.
You can’t make this stuff up
, she thought. “I’m sorry.” She held up a hand, still trying to control her amusement.

“Don’t apologize, your laughter is wonderful.” Miller gripped her hand, kissing each fingertip. Well, that shut her up. He placed her hand on her lap and continued. “Vito is ruthless. My father had good cause to limit our interactions. The godfather to godson relationship is sacred among Sicilian’s, and my father knew Vito wanted me to take my rightful place in the family. My uncle is a good man and loyal to those he loves. I wouldn’t be half the man I am today without him in my life.” The openness in which he spoke of his uncle shared that Miller was referring to more than his uncle’s help in business. Hadley reached up to touch his cheek. Miller held her hand against his face. “I’d like you to meet him.”

Hadley smiled.

“I’d love to meet the man responsible for who you are today.”

Miller released her hand. As he stared down at his love, his vow to protect her grew in intensity. When his investigator found out who purchased Hadley for their sick pleasure, Miller would be calling on his uncle once again for a favor—the kind worthy of Mafia reputation; a service that may actually require a favor in return. Hadley was a member of
La Famiglia now, and someone crossed an unacceptable line, one they would soon be paying for with their life. It was the way.

Hadley showered while Miller cleaned up from dinner. When he was done, he stripped to his boxers and t-shirt. He climbed on the bed, battling his desire to go into the shower and have his way with her. Her trust didn’t come easily, and Miller refused to trample it by rushing her into anything. Their intimacy was in her hands and only she would determine when they made love.

Hadley cursed when she turned off the water. She didn’t have men to her apartment and wasn’t in the habit of bringing a change of clothes into the shower with her. Not wanting to put her dirty clothes back on, she secured the towel around her body, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Miller’s resolve nearly crumbled. Hadley stood in the doorway, nervous, and wet, and naked! What’s a man to do when faced with a beautiful naked woman? While she squirmed under his gaze, his question was answered.

Miller got up from the bed and crossed the room. Hadley’s eyes widened on his approach. Her thoughts went haywire.

He gripped her hand and walked her to the bed. When he gently pushed on her shoulders, Hadley sat down and swallowed hard. The mental pep talk she gave herself convinced her she was ready for this to happen. She could do this, but instead of touching her, Miller went to the dresser. Hadley smiled as he searched her drawers and withdrew a pair of cotton pajamas. Her cheeks burned scarlet when next, he pulled out a pair of cotton panties. Miller frowned, thinking they weren’t nearly sexy enough for her.

Without speaking, he knelt before her, holding her panties in his hand. She dipped her feet into the holes and stood while Miller pulled them into place under the towel. He followed the same course with her pajama bottoms. He then slipped the top over her head and waited until she fed her arms through the holes to remove the towel.

The purposeful care Miller took with her was more intimate that any sexual experience Hadley could imagine. It was nurturing in the way the poetry he sent eluded he would be, an expression of love beyond any sexual desire.

Miller held her face and brushed their noses together. Her eyes closed.

“Look at me.” She opened her eyes, her heart fluttering. “I will never take advantage of you. You control when. I want you beneath me, moaning my name. I want to see those brown eyes rich with love when I bring you to climax. But, I want you to decide when you’re ready. I won’t make that decision for you.”

At a loss for words, Hadley threw her arms around his neck and sealed their lips together. Before long, Hadley was on her back in the bed, Miller between her legs, his hands exploring her body over her pajamas, their lips never parting. The room filled with the sounds of a thousand kisses and whispered promises, and then the heavy breaths of sleep.

H
adley reached across the bed to cold sheets, fearing yesterday was merely a dream, but then smelled toast. She touched her fingers to her sore lips and smiled, remembering the hours of kissing the previous night. With a long sigh, she got out of bed and strolled into the kitchen. Miller was dressed for work and drinking coffee. The businessman in a tailored suit had returned sexier than ever, although as intimidating as ever also. A plate of eggs and toast sat on the serve-through next to a mug of coffee.

“Good morning, Love.”

“Good morning, yourself.” Hadley stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed Miller’s cheek before reaching into the cupboard and removing the tub of Nutella.

“I made you breakfast,” Miller announced, glancing at the tub of chocolate spread with offense.

Hadley grinned and reached for the plate.

“And I sincerely thank you.” He grimaced as she began spreading Nutella over the toast. “But, now, I’m making it better.”

“I sincerely doubt a child’s lunchtime spread is an improvement.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

Miller made a face.

“No.”

Hadley dipped her finger into the tub, coating it generously with the chocolate butter and held it up in a dare. Miller’s eyes glimmered fiercely as he gripped her wrist. He brought her finger to his mouth. Their gazes met, wild with anticipation as he sealed his lips around her finger and sucked it clean. Hadley nearly passed out when he released her finger and slid it slowly over his lips.

Miller licked his lips. “I changed my mind. I love Nutella.”

“I thought you would.”

Hadley smiled triumphantly and bit her toast.

Miller turned, leaning with his back against the counter.

“I’d like to discuss something with you.”