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The host leads in a woman, and for a moment, she's so unexpected that I forget myself and the anger burning inside me. She's...holy hell. She's everything.
The most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
She's an angel, with a heart-shaped face and large, innocent emerald eyes. Her nose is small and straight, and her cupid's bow lips are naturally pink. Her skin is like ivory, her dark hair falling in soft curls down her back.
But then there's her body. She's tiny, maybe 5'1, but the way her t-shirt stretches across her ample chest and her curves are like something out of a dream. She's got the fabric knotted at her belly, and when she turns to thank Mario for the escort, a sliver of skin is exposed. I imagine licking it, undoing the gold button on those jeans, and continuing down.
Then she turns toward me, shy but meeting my gaze, and everything changes. I feel like a meteor falling through the atmosphere, burning all the way down, the only thing holding me together is the connection I feel for this girl. It's instantaneous and ridiculously strong, a tether tying us together. I can see in her eyes that she feels it too, the same desire and pull.
But she's also scared. She's shaking, her hands trembling, and when she walks toward the chair in front of my desk, she nearly trips over her own feet. She's an innocent, a lamb in the lion's den, and all I can think about is taking her for my own, keeping her safe.
I have to get a grip on myself.
The thing is, despite not having spoken to Carlo in years, I've had people keep an eye on him, just in case. He might be a little punk, but he's still my son. So while he had a few short relationships in the past, his most recent girlfriend lasted longer than most. I've glanced over her picture and name in Carlo's file, but her face in black and white in a little printed picture is nothing, NOTHING, compared to her in person.
And I know her name. That much I do remember, thinking that it was too sweet of a name for someone like Carlo.
"Have a seat," I tell her, thankful that my voice doesn't betray my now-overwhelming need. I watch her walk to the seat in front of my desk and lower herself down, getting another glimpse of that fascinating inch of her bare stomach. "You're Daisy Linden."
Her shining eyes go wide, "Y-yes...I am. How did you know?"
I'm not about to tell this angel that I have a page on her in my asshole son's security file. "And you have something to tell me about my son?"
From there, this becomes one of the most infuriating and arousing 40 minutes of my entire fucking life. Hearing that Carlo has stooped so low to put out a hit on this sweet woman, MY woman, makes me murderous. But then I touch her, holding the back of her neck and feeling her silky skin, and I'm harder than I've ever been. I want to bury my face in her neck and inhale her sweet vanilla scent, burn it into my brain forever.
When she tells me she wants to work off her debt by working in my restaurant, I know immediately that I can't allow that. She's not some barista or waitress. She's an angel. No one can look at her but me, no one else can be near her. The very thought of another man's hands on her makes my vision turn red.
No, I can't let her go. I need her to stay, and I'll do whatever it takes to get her to. So without thinking it through, I make a split-second decision. "So, Ms. Linden, here is what is going to happen. You're going to stay with me. In my home. Starting tonight."
Her gasp and the way her lips part in surprise make me even harder. She looks nervous, like she doesn't quite believe me. "Stay...with you? But Mr. Falcone?—"
"Dominic," I interrupt, my voice low. "You're a guest in my house. Call me by my name."
"Okay," she says, her voice shaking. "But Dominic, I don't think?—"
"It's settled," I tell her, not leaving any room for argument. "You want me to keep you safe, you stay with me. No argument."
"What about my job?"
"What about it? You aren't going to be going anywhere while you're still in danger. So don't worry about it."
It's clear that she isn't going to take my advice, though. Daisy bites her plump bottom lip, eyebrows drawing together. God, I wonder if that lip-biting is a habit of hers because it sure as hell makes my control fray even more. "I left the backdoor unlocked when I ran from Carlo. I feel horrible! The owner has been so good to me..."
Inwardly, I sigh. Already I'm seeing that she is too good-hearted for her own good. "Give me the store keys. I'll have some of my men go and lock up for you and slip the keys under the door for whoever comes in tomorrow. Then it doesn't have to weigh on your conscience."
Daisy hesitates. "I don't know. What if Carlo and his men are still there? I wouldn't want your people to be in danger."
I'm not one to laugh often, but this makes a smile pull at my mouth. "Angel, listen. Carlo is an amateur, and I am a pro. My men are pros. They'd wipe the floor with him."
I hold out my hand, palm up, and after a second, Daisy lays the store keys in my hand. My skin tingles when it brushes hers, and I have to take a deep breath. I'm a 40-year-old man. I'm not going to come in my pants like a teenager because she touched me.
"There. No need to worry. I want you to write down a list of what you want from your residence, and I'll have a separate group go to retrieve it. As for you, Daisy, I've got a few loose ends to clear up here, so I'm going to have my head of security take you to my home. You'll be safe there, and I'll join you as soon as I can."
She doesn't look happy about that, but she doesn't argue. Smart girl. Instead, she nods, her hair brushing against her cheek. "Thank you, Dominic. I really appreciate all your help. I'll find a way to pay you back. I promise."
There are plenty of ideas in my mind about how she can repay me, but none of them are anywhere near appropriate. "Don't worry about it, angel. It's my pleasure."
She flushes a pretty shade of red, and I go to my desk to get her paper and a pen so she can make a list of what she's going to need while she's staying with me. As much as I want to keep her in the office and drive her home myself, I have a little bit of footwork to do tonight regarding my disappointment of a son.
