Mafia Runner

Chapter Ten

"That doesn't change the fact that you're still two hours late." I turned to him with a grimace. "Not a few minutes, but two hours. Your whole 'I understand completely' gimmick won't work on me again."

Why did Lucian have to look so handsome and blameless right then? I felt my anger subside when I realized how much of a mess he looked from his normally pristine appearance. His hair was disheveled and his suit was a bit on the untidy side. There was color to his cheeks as if he had just exerted himself and his dark eyes were bright with both emotion and adrenaline. He held up a hand as he vowed, "it will never happen again, little Conti."

He took an advancing step forward and I took one step backward.

"You're damn right it won't."

Lucian stopped his pursuit, feigning defeat, before suddenly lunging with a faint smile. I jumped backward with a startled laugh at his antics. His fingers just barely caught hold of my shirt before he tugged me forward and into his arms. He gathered my protesting form into a tight embrace before kissing the top of my head.

Again. And again.

"I'm sorry, Afton."

My attempts to escape his hold were pathetic and weak. Tony would be so ashamed.

The arms around me were so tight and secure. I could lift up my feet and Lucian would be able to support me. The kisses rained across my head before beginning to shower my forehead and cheeks. I gave a closed-mouth chuckle as I tried to turn my head and avoid his lips. He was such an ass. An irresistible ass.

"I'm trying to be justifiably upset."

"And I'm being justifiably apologetic," Lucian countered. He moved me against the counter, caging me in. His open hand splayed the side of my cheek, moving my face around to meet his.

I did nothing to stop the kiss.

Even if I could, I don't know if I would have wanted to.

It was chaste, teasing.

Lucian pulled back, encircling me loosely with his body.

"I don't want to be your anxious housewife," I murmured quietly. "Don't make me like that."

"I have no intentions of treating you like that. I couldn't get out of the meeting. I couldn't. They took our phones. I had no way of reaching you." Lucian frowned. "Trust me when I say I would have rather been here than there. And as I sat there, watching the time, I knew you'd be stewing angry."

He reached over my head and plucked something from the bag.

A white rose with red edges was placed against my bottom lip. I nearly went cross-eyed getting a proper look at the masculine flower before rolling my eyes up to consider the smug, and alluring Lucian. My resolve—whatever weak resolve was there before the kissing and bear hug attack— abruptly crumbled.

"I'm just glad you're okay."

I snatched the flower from his hand.

Only when he turned away, did I explore the soft petals with admiring fingers.

"I'll make it up to you with the most amazing dinner you have ever had." He moved away from me and rummaged through the paper bag again. "What cuisine should I make tonight? Italian, Mexican, or Italian?" Lucian raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Tough decision," I mused dryly as I played idly with the rose. I never thought someone would give me a rose. But I think I appreciated it more than Summer Lester had appreciated hers. I carefully placed the rose amongst the other flowers my mother had displayed. "I'd say Italian."