DARK ANGEL: A Mafia Romance -- Book Three: A Violent Love Affair (Erotic Romance) by Angela Jordan Page B

happy with allowing him to think I couldn’t stand up to him as my own person.
    So, in a complete role-reversal I’d taken charge of his pleasure, tormenting and teasing him to the breaking point. I’d reveled in the way I had made him lose control as I rode him to climax. His sensual groans of pleasure had been like music to my ears, and I wanted more. Much more. And my dark angel was happy to oblige.
    After that night, something seemed to settle into place between us. We’d been like any other couple, working to build a relationship together. But with Angelo, the transition had been seamless. Every minute I spent with him made it seem like I’d known him for years instead of days. We couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, and we’d made love in almost every room of his apartment that passionate weekend. It really was like a drug, a love-fueled binge. Every time we came together, it just made me want him that much more.
    Yesterday morning I’d left his apartment feeling happier than I’d been in a long time. He had insisted on driving me home before he’d gone into work that day. When his driver had pulled up in front of my building, Angelo had taken my lips in a kiss so carnal it had left me breathless with anticipation of seeing him again.
    I’d been looking forward to having lunch with Angelo’s sister Maria. I enjoyed her company, but something she had said had created a crack in foundation of happiness. The hints about their family’s dark secrets left me feeling uneasy, and I was never the time to be satisfied not asking questions.
    So here I was. I looked at my reflection in the elevator and saw my violet eyes blushed with fatigue, even beneath the layer of make-up I had taken the time to put on. I hadn’t slept well last night, the worry making me toss and turn until I’d finally fallen into an exhausted and restless slumber. After a long, hot shower this morning, I’d tried to refuel with a large mug of coffee to counteract the lack of sleep. It hadn’t worked, except to send my mind racing even faster. I’d been useless all day and it was late afternoon when I’d finally gotten the courage to call Angelo, telling him we needed to talk.
    His voice had sounded clipped on the phone, bordering on brusque. It gave me comfort that it sounded like he hadn’t gotten more sleep than I did, and that had me immediately feeling guilty, thinking I was the cause of his restlessness.
    I told him I’d meet him at his apartment whenever he was available, and I’d been surprised to hear that he was already at home. I’d dressed quickly, throwing on a plain black three-quarter-length shirt and a pair of comfortable caramel-colored Capri pants. I put my long jet-black hair up in a clip, so I wouldn’t have to deal with it, grabbed my purse and headed out the door.
    Now, only moments away from seeing Angelo again, my nerves were making me a jittery mess. But even in my agitated state, I felt my body heat up at the thought of seeing him again.
    Angelo was a dangerous man, and if I was being honest, the darkness inside him made him even more irresistible to me. I had a particular weakness for bad boys, and Angelo was the epitome of every wild fantasy I’ve ever had.  In some twisted, messed-up way, he was perfect for me.
    But before things could go any further between us, I needed to know just how bad he really was. I liked to think I was a fairly tolerant woman, but murder? That was something I couldn’t just ignore. And even if it turned out Angelo had nothing to do with this, all these secrets he was keeping from me were creating a divide I couldn’t live with. I needed to be able to trust him, one hundred percent, and I couldn’t do that if I knew he was keeping things from me.
    The elevator came to a stop on his floor, and I took a deep breath as the doors opened. Walking across the marble foyer, I crossed over to Angelo’s apartment. I stood silently, trying to gather the courage to knock, when the