His Mafia Queen

Haunted

Riley

I look at Gabriel through my lashes and smile. Perhaps I'm reading too much into his words about Catherine, but the fact remains: she was once reported missing, and the case was serious enough that it made it into the newspaper.

"I'm going to make us dinner tonight," Gabriel says. "Keep me company in the kitchen while I cook."

He stands and extends a hand, and he helps me up. While we walk inside, I wonder if he ever cooked for Catherine. I wonder what she looked like, whether she made him laugh, if they had incredible chemistry.

In the kitchen, I settle onto a stool at the island counter. Gabriel opens a bottle of red wine — he tells me what vintage and kind, but it's like another language to me — and I sip cautiously. Normally I don't like red wines, but this is surprising. I take another sip.

"You like?" Gabriel's taking a box of pasta out of a cabinet.

"It's kind of like vanilla and cherries, with a little smoky flavor. I do."

He points a wooden spoon at me. "You've got a great palate. That's exactly what the sommelier told me when I bought it. Vanilla, cherries, and smoke."

I watch as he explains what he's making. It's a simple Italian dish with cheese and pepper.

"Sounds simple," I observe.

"The key is in the ingredients. You have to get the best cheese, and I do, imported from Italy. See?" He breaks off a small chunk of cheese and approaches. "Open your mouth."

I do, and he places the cheese on my tongue while studying me. "Jesus, you're beautiful."

"Mmm, that is tasty." At least it's easy to be honest about the food.

That's what gets me through the next couple of hours: the incredible food. Gabriel apparently has a hidden talent as a chef, because the dish he makes is like an Italian version of mac and cheese, only with spaghetti and something called Grana Padano. It's rich and buttery and I literally can't do anything but moan when I take a mouthful. For such simple ingredients, this is like an orgasm in my mouth with the sharp, tangy cheese and the bite of the pepper.

We eat casually at the island counter in the kitchen, and Reese skitters in, looking for a taste.

Gabriel gives him a bit of cheese and he races away. We both laugh, and I try to distract my overactive mind with the food.

"I think I want to bathe in this sauce," I say.

Gabriel chuckles. "It's a famous dish from Rome. Created by sheep herders, who could only carry a few ingredients with them. That's why it's so simple."

I twirl the last bit of spaghetti on my fork, wondering if I should let the Catherine issue fade. His past is none of my business. He's not a virgin, and neither am I.

I can only judge him on how he treats me, which is like a queen, right?

"I am so full," I tell him when he asks if I want dessert. "Maybe later? Let me do the dishes."

"What? No. The housekeeper will do them."

I blink, still not comprehending how he lives with help that assists with everyday tasks. How much more could I get done in a week if I didn't have to clean the house, do laundry, or pick up after myself?

He kisses my temple. "Want to go upstairs and watch a movie? I feel like I need to recline. I feel like I've been through a war after today."

I glance at him and nod. He does look exhausted, and the fact is, he went to a funeral today. I need to cut him some slack on that alone.