Her answering smile makes my heart flutter. “I’m sorry for not telling you. I admit, I might have acted a little…rashly.”
I feel myself laughing for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.
“Friends?” she asks with those big, hazel eyes gazing at me so unfairly.
Who am I to deny her anything?
I pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her. And God, have I missed this closeness these last few days. I’ve missed the feeling of her pressed against my chest, of her hands grasping my shirt to pull me impossibly closer.
“Friends,” I agree, completely unable to stop myself from kissing the top of her head that she tucks under my chin.
We stand there a moment too long before I force myself to step back. “Come on, we need to make a quit pitstop.”
“Where?”
“Fifth Avenue.”
She stares at me blankly. “Why?”
“We’re going shopping.”
“Again,why?”
“Because if you’re going to confront Lazzaro tonight at theCandelabra, I will have to insist on going with you.”
Her eyes bulge at this. “W-what?”
“Andyou should know by now that no woman of mine would be caught dead in anything but the best.”
18
CASSANDRA
Idon’t recognize myself in the mirror.
I’ve done intense shopping trips before. Hell, my mom and I even visited the Mall of America when I was a kid.
But nothing compared to what Rocco just made me do. Somehow, they measured me for this dresswhilea gentleman named Hugo descended on my hair with foils. The soft highlights now frame my face, amplifying my new layers.
I’m still unsure how and when someone got to my nails, but their dark maroon color perfectly matches my near-black outfit.
The material hugs every one of my curves as it falls in sleek waves to my heeled feet. The long slit down the side comes scandalously close to my upper thigh. But that has nothing on the deep plunge of my neckline.
It’s almost as if the fabric has been stitched into my skin—it leaves nothing to the imagination.
My appearance would be distracting if Rocco wasn’t standing behind me.
His own suit is tailored to perfection, as always. But it’s his shirt, a dark red match to my dress, that’s unbuttoned far enough to reveal the tattoos beneath that makes my mouth water.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers in my ear. His eyes rove over my body hungrily.
I’m about two seconds away from demanding we stay home and entertain ourselves another way.
But…our newfound alliance still feels somewhat tentative. It’s the same as before, except somehow it isn’t. I don’t think I realized the implications of calling Rocco my ”friend” before he returned the sentiment.
I shake my head to try and clear it of distractions. I have a job to do.
The plan is simple. Go into theCandelabra,pretend to be Rocco’s doting mistress, and slip away to confront Claudio.
