The Mafia's Virgin Nanny - Page 5

“Me,” she said, offering him a smile.

This was so incredibly hard. She wanted to hide. To be anywhere else but staring at him. Glancing around the library, she wondered what topics she could talk about that were relatively safe.

“I happen to like them. Especially near a bonfire. I love toasting them,” Alonzo said.

“You do?”

“Yep. I love them hot and sticky. The best things in life are … worth waiting for.”

Silence fell between them, and she didn’t have a clue as to what he was referring to. This was all in the dark for her.

“Why do you have the baby monitor?” he asked, nodding at her jeans.

The top of the monitor was peeking out of her pocket.

“It’s a force of habit. I put him to bed, and it’s my responsibility.”

“You do know some stuff is for the parents to do.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Adesso are not home tonight.”

“They’re not?” he asked.

“They left a few hours ago.”

Alonzo sat back, cursing. “They have no regard for that boy.”

“I’m his nanny. It’s fine.”

“You’re not his mommy though, Tessa. Your life is not supposed to be wrapped up in a one-year-old child.”

“If I’m not his nanny then what else do I do? I’ve got nowhere to go, and I was told to remain here, I had to work. I adore Caesar. He’s a wonderful child.”

“You love children?” he asked.

She smiled. “That’s a leap. I adore Caesar. I don’t know if I love every single child I meet. I’ve been out shopping with him and there are a couple of kids that are not at all friendly, but I like to think he is or at least he’ll remain that way for a little while.”

“Referring to the fact that everyone else within the mafia is not nice?”

Tessa felt sick to her stomach.

This man could kill her. Have her tortured for days and leave her to bleed out so the rats would feed on her flesh. Running her hands up her arms, she tried not to show her nerves.

“My dad always told me that the most feared men worked for the mafia. That you all had to do bad things.” It was kind of immature, looking back at it. She’d been young, maybe ten or twelve, when she asked her father about his job.

There were a lot of things he must have done for the men he worked for.

“Tell me, Tessa, have you ever considered going to the cops?” he asked.

“You’re in by blood. There’s no out, Tessa. Never.”

“But … why don’t you tell the cops?”

“I’ll never rat. Those men, they may not see me as family, but they are mine. I will protect them with my life because if anything happens to me, I know you and your mother will always, always be taken care of.”

She’d stumbled onto her father taking care of some of his wounds. He’d been slashed with a knife. His complete devotion to these men had terrified her, but looking back, he was a loyal man.

Someone to admire, no matter who he worked for.

She was proud to have been his daughter.

“I’d never be a rat. My father had a strong belief, and I would never hurt his memory by turning on those he considered his family.”

“Even if you hate us?” Alonzo asked.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You always run and hide,” he said.

She frowned. “I was told that being a nanny meant I couldn’t be seen or heard. No one wanted a screaming kid, and no one wanted a besotted nanny.”

“Do you think you could be besotted?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know, and it’s refreshing.”

There was a knock at the door, and she was thankful for the reprieve. She couldn’t handle another second right now. Conversations with Alonzo hadn’t exactly been on her list of things to deal with.

This was … weird.

In a good way though.

She rather liked his smile. He didn’t do it enough, that was for sure. When he got older, he’d probably have a lot more frown lines than those that showed a lifetime of happiness.

Locking her fingers together, she watched as Cole entered the room. He was one of Alonzo’s bodyguards. He held a large mug of chocolate, no marshmallows in sight.

“Thank you,” she said, as he placed the mug down on the table.

“You’re most welcome. Sir.” He turned on his heel and left.

“One hot chocolate for you,” Alonzo said.

“Do you get everyone in your employ to do your bidding?”

“I’m a Zanetti. If I wanted him to walk over broken glass, he would.”

“Do you often make suggestions like that?”

“Why? Are you worried?”

“I don’t imagine it inspires a great deal of loyal following if you act … mean to them.” She was going to say “like a dick,” but thought better of it.

Just because they were enjoying a drink together didn’t mean she could see him as a friend.

“You’d be surprised how I get my loyal following.”

Tags: Sam Crescent Crime
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