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Tasteful yet steamy content ahead. Read through your fingers for this one...
Despite my earlier vow to steer clear of women like her, every fibre of my being contradicted that resolution.
I watched her cradle my phone in that steamy haven and for the first time I envied my smartphone for its vantage point, the frothy suds serving as an enchanting veil to the curve of her breasts.
My gaze lingered, drawn to one exposed leg, an irresistible invitation impossible to ignore. With her foot gracefully perched on the tub's edge, the allure of that singular limb ignited a longing I hadn't anticipated. I'd never been a leg man before.
I blamed it on the prolonged drought of genuine connection.
I chuckled, amused at myself for being aroused by the mere sight of her bare leg like I was some college kid not in control of my hormonal urges. Suppressing the telltale bulge beneath my trousers, I shifted from one foot to the other to divert my attention from the tempting vision. I inspected every damn inch of ceiling, down to the cobwebs creeping from an inconspicuous area of the light fixture.
Deciding to let her use my phone was an act of self preservation. I was certain it would douse the flames of desire threatening to consume me. I wasn't interested in no ready made family, or being a father figure to her mafia monsters.
I told myself she'd turn into the overbearing tyrant I knew her father to be. Or some vapid airhead who devolved into baby talk.
I dialed the number and turned aside, keeping my line of sight on her.
Unexpectedly, her voice transformed from measured and composed to a soft, tender melody. Its tone sent delicious shivers down my spine.
My mind imagining how her voice would sound as she whispered my name as she wrapped herself around me. I hoped for aloof. Aloof I could have resisted.
"Mummy has to go now. I love you all so very much. I'll be home as soon as I can." The warmth in her words ignited a protective instinct that made me want to ensure she got home to them.
"Thank you." I heard her say, not measuring I needed to take back the phone.
Her face shone with content, as she placed the phone into my outstretched hand, gratitude evident in her gaze.
I watched her for a moment, amazed at yet another transformation. Her voice gradually resuming its initial firmness, the mask once more firmly in place. The transformation from mafia mommy to femme fatale once again complete.
I beat a hasty retreat from the bathroom, desperate to quell the rising tide threatening to overwhelm me. The cardinal rule of emotional detachment in handling an asset seemed impossible when faced with Artemisia's undeniable lure.
I toyed with the logic of the scenario, mind games with myself to explain the white hot desire I felt when the woman so much as glanced my way.
Maybe I was being pulled in by pastsentiment. I certainly wasnt delulu enough to believe in love at first sight. It had to be lust at first look.
I pushed the shadow of my familial ties that loomed in the backdrop of my mind. I grew up hearing how Dad rescued Mom, and how their love had bloomed in that adversity. The two of them were still that way twenty five years later.
What was it with us Gyali men needing to save women. I shrugged, thinking how backward thinking I was.
Artemisia was the last type of woman who needed rescuing.
Whatever the case, my level of interest was piqued, and my libido was doing overtime, which only meant one thing. I needed to sever ties with this case as soon as possible.
I rummaged through the kitchenette fridge, seeking solace in the mundane. The realization Artemisia's situation bore an uncanny resemblance to my mother's replaced the earlier arousal with a poignant ache for family and belonging. Maybe that's what this was.
I was missing home and the familiar, I told myself.
Soon, Artemisia emerged from the washroom, draped in a hotel bathrobe that did little to conceal her alluring form.
Blissfully unaware she was testing my every last resolve, she tossed herself onto the bed and laid there.
Those damn alluring legs bare, her hair trapped under a towel, she began to flick through the evening news.
She resembled a sultry gift begging to be unwrapped in that scruffy robe, tied with a single, teasing knot. If she had bothered to look my way, the longing in my gaze would have betrayed every earlier proclamation mafia mamas held no interest to me.