Page 3 of The Arrangement

“Can’t. I gotta check the floor before you go,” he replied quietly. When Viviana’s scowl made another appearance, he added, “Sorry. Those are the rules. You wanted freedom, so they gave it. I’m just one of the conditions that came along for the ride, babe.”

A nauseous feeling settled in her like a heavy weight. “I’ve been here a year and there hasn’t been an issue. Why can’t you just leave?”

Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed, the movement drawing her eyes in to the bands of muscle that stretched and flexed all over his tanned form. The light dusting of hair that covered his chest and created a thin line to the spot between his legs had her memory on overload with images from the night before. He was all-American with a touch of Italian on the tip of his magic tongue. Kind of handsome. Cussed like a sailor, had a perfectly deadly sort of aim with a gun, and always stayed far enough away to never draw attention but close enough that she was still aware of his presence.

“You want me to leave after last night?”

Viviana refused to dignify that with a response. His cock stood at attention: hard, glorious, and probably still smelling like her pussy. Oh God, smelling like her. Panic saturated her from the inside out.

“Last night … tell me we used—”

“A condom,” he interrupted. “Yeah. I don’t fuck without one.”

Sweet relief never felt so good. Sure, she was on the shot, but that didn’t mean Sam wasn’t out there fucking God knew who when he wasn’t working.

Sam didn’t pay Viviana’s relieved sigh a moment of attention as he reached for his jeans. “I’ll check the floors and you can go.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked, shifting into a sitting position on the floor as he pulled on a pair of jeans. “Just … not tell anyone?”

Sam cringed. “That’s probably best.”

Probably, she thought sarcastically.

Being the daughter of a former mafia boss, Viviana should have known better. You didn’t sleep with your bodyguard, and if they were worth anything, your bodyguard didn’t make a move to bridge the personal gaps between you. Sam had been good, too. For the last year he’d done just what he needed, followed orders to the letter, and kept her as safe as he possibly could.

And then last night happened …

“Vine, you’re freaking out over there when it’s only me here. No one is gonna know we knocked boots if you don’t say anything about it. I like my life right where it is, and I don’t plan on swimming with the fish any time soon, so I sure as hell won’t be saying a thing. If you want, I can request another man—”

“You’re not made, right?”

Sam looked confused. “I’m not … yet.”

She waved a hand between them. “Is this job your guarantee into it?”

The indignant sound he released was enough of an answer.

“It takes a little more than that, and you’re not worth very much now.”

“Well, great.”

“No one likes to off a woman, Vine, especially if that woman is Roman’s daughter. Doesn’t matter if he’s six feet under or not now, they already got your momma and brother. I suppose killing you just seemed cruel and unnecessary in the grand scheme of things. Be grateful they’re letting you live.”

“Grateful? They’re just waiting for me to screw up and then …” Trailing off, Viviana made the shape of a gun with her thumb and forefinger and pulled the trigger at her temple. “Boom. I’ll be the one swimming with the fish.”

His unaffected, blank stare chilled.

“Your father might not be the boss now, but he was for a long time, and his daddy before him, too. Roman made a bad choice, so his men turned and did what they had to. Regardless, they’d show you more respect than an execution and a watery grave. You know that.”

“A bad choice,” Viviana repeated dully. That bad choice was her and a dozen other things that happened over two decades ago that she didn’t want to think about. It was better if she didn’t. There was less pain that way. “What the hell do you know about my father’s choices? Just because those men spit what they call gospel doesn’t mean they’re not choking back on lies, Sam.”

“Those men are la famiglia.” Sam’s warning rang loud and clear, causing Viviana to bite the inside of her cheek and look away. “As of today, they still consider you a part of that family. Gratitude and respect, Vine. Learn it.”

“So says the man who fucked the Don of New York’s daughter.”

Sam grinned wickedly, pulling a V-neck T-shirt over his head. “Not the Don anymore. I was at the funeral, too. Besides, we can’t do this again, right? I mean, you’re a great lay, obviously, but I want my button and you’re just a stepping stone to it.”

“You can go to—”