THE MAFIA BOSS OPENED THE WRONG DOOR—AND SAW THE ONE WOMAN HE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO WANT

call uncle, while my brain insisted on noticing that he was tall, muscular, painfully handsome, and absolutely not uncle-like anymore, was a new level of torture.

He sat at the kitchen island, avoiding looking directly at me.

I focused very hard on pouring coffee without spilling it everywhere.

“Does your mother know you’re here?” he asked.

“She knows continue reading …