Mafia Kings: Valentino: Dark Mafia Romance Series #6 by Olivia Thorn

Mafia Kings: Valentino: Chapter 3 And that was how I got an interview with the Rosolinis.

An old boyfriend of mine who still lived in town (and who I occasionally still hooked up with when we were both single) droveout into the countryside for the interview.

Using Google Maps, we turned down a small road bordered by tall, thin cedar trees, then drove until we reached a massive stone wall with iron gates.

We sat there in his car, wondering what the hell we should do, when a voice blared out of a speaker on the wall. "State your business." The voice was so loud that we could hear it clearly through our rolled-up windows.

I opened the car door and stepped out timidly into the freezing winter air.

"I'm - I'm here for the job in the kitchen," I called out nervously, my heart thudding in my chest.

"Your name?" the voice snapped.

"C-Caterina Martinelli." There was a long pause, and I wondered if I would even get in to do the interview.

Maybe I was going to lose the job before I even got a chance.

Then the voice said, "Stay there. We're sending someone to get you." I helpfully suggested, "My friend could driveup to the - " "STAY. THERE. We're sending someone to get you." I quickly got back in the car, terrified of pissing off the voice any more.

My ex-boyfriend stared at me. He was clearly as nervous as I was. "Are you sure you want to do this?" "No," I admitted. "But I'd like to see the house, at least." We waited for two minutes - and then the gates opened up.

On the other side was a black Mercedes. A man in a black suit and white shirt got out of the passenger side and motioned to me.

I got out of my ex's car.

As I started walking towards the Mercedes, my ex rolled down his window and stuck his head out. “What about me?" "Wait here," the man in the black suit said.

"Just - out here?" my ex said, a bit surprised and definitely annoyed.

"Yes." "What if somebody comes up behind me? Or wants to leave from your direction?" "Then get out of the way." "It's okay," I reassured my ex. Although I sounded so nervous, I doubt he was reassured at all. "I'll be out soon." My ex grumbled and got back in the car.

As I walked over to the man in the suit, the gates closed behind me. I heard them creak and I jumped.

"I need to search you," the guy said.

"Um... okay...?" He checked my purse, then gavea quick pat-down.

"Ooh, I didn't know this was part of the interview process," I joked flirtatiously.

He didn't even crack a smile. He just opened up the rear passenger-side door for me.

O-kaaaay...

I got in meekly without a word.

He shut the door behindand got back in the car.

The driver did a three-point turn, and we headed up towards the house.

I don't know that the property was quite as impressive as the Vatican (since I haven't been to Rome)... but it was still pretty damn amazing.

First we drove past vineyards and orchards. The road sloped upwards, and when we broke out of the trees, I saw it: a gigantic mansion at the top of the hill, three stories tall. It looked old - maybe 500 years old or more. "Wow," I murmured.

Neither of the two guys in the front seat said anything.

We reached a circular drive in front of marble steps and a pair of bronze doors.

The guy got out and opened my door. "Let's go." I got out, a little clumsy from my nervousness. As the Mercedes drove off, the man ledup to the bronze doors.

A couple of other guys in identical black suits were lounging around the entrance. If they were mafia, they looked more like they were on a smoke break than keeping guard.

My guide directedinto the house. It was even more amazing on the inside, with thick Persian rugs, crystal chandeliers, and old artwork on the walls.

He ledthrough a maze of hallways until he pushed back a swinging door to the kitchen – And what a kitchen it was! There were ancient stone walls, yes, but also marble countertops, an absolutely gigantic island filled with two dozen bowls and glass jars, and lots of sleek, modern appliances.

I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

A woman stood next to the island, looking at a sheet of paper in her hand. She was tall and imposing in a black dress, and her curly grey hair reached to her shoulders. She looked over at the sound of the door.

"Signora Lombardi," the man greeted her.

"Thank you, Benvenuto," she replied. "You may go." He nodded, then walked out the door we'd cin through.

"So," Signora Lombardi said, "you must be Caterina." "Y-yes, ma'am." "A local girl," she said - not a question but a statement of fact.

"Yes, ma'am. I live in Florence, but I'm from Castelfiorentino." She looked down at the piece of paper in her hand, which I realized was a printout of my résumé. “I'm not familiar with this restaurant you work at." "Um... it's a touristy kind of place." "I see." She sounded the slightest bit contemptuous. "Well, all that really matters is whether you can cook, and I'll be the judge of that. Here you can see we have bowls full of various ingredients." I stepped closer so I could see into the bowls. They were all filled with different things: eggs, flour, onions, garlic, tomatoes, strawberries, lemons, spinach, basil, fennel, spinach, and many other things. There were glass jars filled with dry pasta - long spaghetti, spiral fusilli, and bowtie farfalle, just to na few. Small bowls had anise, cloves, and other spices. There was a glass pitcher filled with milk and an unlabeled green bottle of olive oil. Salt and pepper shakers made of crystal sat off to the side. Two bottles of wine - one red, one white. And on big marble platters were several different types of cheese - parmesan and ricotta, in particular - and a soft hunk of butter as big as my fist.

"On your résumé, you indicated you could cook over two hundred dishes by memory," she said.

"Yes, ma'am. My nonna taught me." "Well, you have two hours to cook whatever you like using these ingredients and only these ingredients." I looked at her in surprise. "You wantto choose?" She seemed to take my reaction as being unhappy - When in fact I was overjoyed.

I get to cook in THIS kitchen?! And whatever I WANT?! Every day at work, I fixed the sdamn thing: marinara sauce with meat. You couldn't even really call it cooking since I used sauce out of jars. The only thing I did was sauté onions and garlic, combine it with the meat sauce in giant pots, then boil hundreds of pounds of pasta.

"Yes, I want you to choose," Signora Lombardi said with a hint of annoyance. "If that distresses you, you can exit the interview now if you wish." "No, ma'am!" I said happily.

With two hours, I figured I could make a whole meal to knock her socks off.

It was a pity I couldn't make the pasta from scratch, but that would take more time.

There was just one problem.

"Um... my ride is waiting out by the gate," I said. "He thought I'd only be in here for half an hour." "I'll have one of our men tell him to go home," Signora Lombardi said.

"Uh... he might not leave unless I tell him myself." Signora Lombardi gavea tight smile. "Then he can wait." I could read between the lines: Stop botheringabout your little friend.

"Okay," I said sheepishly.

While Signora Lombardi made a phone call on her cell, I tried a few ingredients and was delighted. The basil was fresh from the garden, and the olive oil was spectacular.

"This tastes like it was just pressed," I said in wonder.

Signora Lombardi gavethe first hint of a smile. "It's harvested from the trees on the estate." "It's amazing! By the way, is there any meat?" I asked.

"In the refrigerator." After finding sground beef, I decided to make a nice tagliatelle alla Bolognese, a pasta dish with tomato sauce and beef. Besides the traditional garlic and basil for flavoring, I could use a bit of anise and cloves to really make the sauce pop.

In addition, a simple peasant bread with bits of olive in it would be wonderful fresh from the oven.

And a nice zuccotto, a creamy dessert cake where I could use fresh strawberries as garnish. Once I figured out where all the pots, pans, and cutlery were, I grabbed an apron and set to work. Signora Lombardi sat at a nearby breakfast table and worked on a laptop. Occasionally she would glance up and watchfor a moment, then go back to whatever she was doing.

I was in heaven the entire time, doing the thing I loved the most (well, besides sex) in the most beautiful kitchen I'd ever seen. I was a little nervous at the beginning, but mostly I just enjoyed myself.

About an hour and a half into my cooking, there was a noise as the door opened behind me. I was so into my cooking that I didn't look up – Until I heard the sexiest voice ever.

Deep and playful, and smooth as the best red wine you can imagine.

"What smells so good? And who's this that looks so good?" I turned around in surprise - and gasped.

There stood the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen in my entire life.

And not just a boy like the guys I dated back hor in Florence, but a man.

He was tall, probably about 6'2".

He was built, with broad shoulders. He wore a loose-fitting white linen shirt, so I couldn't see his body incredibly well, but the neck of the shirt was open fairly low - And Madonn, what a chest. Sculpted pecs bronzed by the sun, with just the perfect amount of chest hair.

His sleeves were rolled up, too, exposing muscular forearms and big hands.

Like, BIG hands.

Which madeimmediately wonder how big something else was.

But it was his face that took my breath away.

He had sculpted cheekbones... a granite jawline... sensual lips... flawless skin... and the most playful brown eyes I'd ever seen. A half-smile pulled at the corner of his incredibly kissable mouth. Several days of scruff made him look sexy as hell. His dark brown hair was wavy and fairly long, and was tousled and wild. He looked like a supermodel who'd just gotten out of bed ready for a photo shoot.

He was more handsthan any movie star or musician I'd ever seen, and my heart skipped a beat.

Not to mention my pussy fluttered with craving.

Sorry! Maybe that's TMI - But it did! As soon as our eyes met, he burst into a grin.

He had a million-dollar smile with perfectly straight, white teeth.

"Hellloooo, signorina," he said flirtatiously. "That is, I'm hoping it's signorina." Signorina was equivalent to Miss in English - meaning an unmarried woman - versus Signora, which was the sas Mrs.

I blushed furiously, but I grinned right back at him. "Definitely yes." That made him grin even wider. "Well, that's the best news I've heard all week." His eyes trailed down my body, pausing on my breasts.

I think most women don't particularly like it when men do that - But when the hottest guy in the world is undressing you with his eyes, it's awesome.

His gaze felt like a caress, and I immediately felt my nipples harden.

Along with other parts of my body getting more hot and bothered.

I so wanted to sneak a peek at his crotch - but I restrained myself.

Barely.

"Ahem," said an annoyed voice.

Signora Lombardi.

I'd forgotten she was there.

The hot guy looked over and flashed her the scharming smile. "Oh, hey, Signora." "Hello, Valentino," the woman greeted him frostily.

Valentino.

Oh my god - it was a perfect nfor him.

Be My Valentine, baby - over and over again, all night long!

"Signorina Martinelli is here interviewing for a job in the kitchen," •En said the older woman said "Interviewing, huh? Smells like she's cooking a feast.” Valentino looked back atand continued undressingwith his eyes. "So, you got a first name, Signorina Martinelli?" He was so flirtatious, it was crazy.

I loved it.

"Caterina." "Caterina... I like that. As you already heard, I'm Valentino. Nice to meet you." He walked over to me, his arm extended - and my heart skipped a beat again.

I'm going to get to touch him! I caught a whiff of the sexiest men's cologne I'd ever smelled as he cforward - And then he took my hand in his.

Ohhhhhhhh...

His hands were so big that they dwarfed mine.

And they were warm... almost hot to the touch.

I could just imagine them all over me... cupping my breasts... reaching between my thighs...

"Remember my name," he purred, then gaveanother wink and that killer smile. “So you can scream it over and over again later on." OH MY GOD.

I got wet right then and there.

"Valentino!" Signora Lombardi shouted. "She is here interviewing to be an employee, not one of your little playthings!" Valentino laughed and put up his hands like Don't shoot! "Sorry, Signora. Beautiful women just bring out the bad boy in me." ...beautiful...

...women? HE THINKS I'M BEAUTIFUL?!

If Valentino had taken my hand and 1 pulledoff to a bedroomanywhere else would have happily gone with him, no questions asked. The only part that gavepause was 'one of your little playthings.' Which meant he had a lot of women.

Although with a face and a body like that, it made total sense for him to be a player.

I didn't care.

I was too caught up in the sight of him - the smell of him - the touch and sound of him.

And I really, really wanted to know what it was like to taste him.

"Leave," Signora Lombardi ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled. Then he looked over at me. "See you later... Caterina." The way he said my name, it was like he was about to kiss me...

Or was murmuring it between my thighs right before he went down on me.

"Bye," I said, somewhere between giddy and orgasmic.

He grinned atone last time, then started for an exit at the other end of the kitchen.

I got a good look at his ass as he went - Oh FUCK.

The most perfect ass that God ever made.

I was so hot and bothered, it was ridiculous.

Then I noticed Signora Lombardi glaring at me.

I quickly turned back to the stove to check on my saucepan.

But I felt something...

A tingle at the back of my neck.

I turned to look over my shoulder - And caught Valentino checking out my ass as he was about to leave the room.

His eyes raised to mine. Rather than embarrassed at being caught, hen seemed mischievously delighted and gaveone last perfect smile and a wink before he left the room. Saints help me, I was dripping wet.

Signora Lombardi cleared her throat in irritation, though, and I quickly went back to work.