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“Her job won’t last forever, so that’s fine.”

Even when she was finished, I didn’t like the idea of her screwing my brother. Bates would be down for a one-on-one, so he could give her exactly what she wanted. “Let this one go, Bates.”

Instead of taking a drink, he lowered his glass and looked at me.

I felt his stare on my face but ignored it.

He kept up the look. “If you want her, why haven’t you done something about it?”

“Already did.”

He ignored his drink altogether, far more interested in our conversation than booze—which was a first. “So, she really did turn you down. That’s a first—and Cato doesn’t like it.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Well, what did happen?” He turned on his stool so he could look at me better, ignoring the TV I was looking at along with the pretty women in the bar.

“Saw her in a club. Kissed her. Took her back to my place—but she bolted when she saw Christina.”

“So she’s that kind of girl.” He nodded slightly. “Not the adventurous type.”

“I suppose.” I took a drink.

“How did she end up being your art buyer?”

“One of my men said she was the best.”

Bates, the most paranoid person on the planet, simmered with hostility. “You don’t think that’s an odd coincidence?”

“Yes. I asked her the same thing. I noticed she’d been following me for a while.”

“How long?”

“A few weeks. She was at the bakery outside one of our offices, watching me. I caught her off guard and confronted her about it.”

“Interesting.”

“In the end, it seemed like all she wanted was this job. Claimed to be researching me so she could figure out exactly what I liked and didn’t like.” I wasn’t the kind of man who believed people so easily, but her story fit. She was clearly passionate about her job, and she’d been at the gallery for many years. “She’s ambitious and driven—and was willing to do anything to get the job.”

“Except a threeway.”

I shrugged and took another drink.

“I don’t know about her, man.” Bates turned sinister, the anger slowly coming into his eyes. “We can never be too careful.”

“I agree. But I think she’s harmless.”

“You just think she’s harmless because she’s beautiful.”

“No.” The more beautiful they were, the more dangerous they became.

“I’ll keep an eye on her. Don’t trust her.”

“Fine with me.” As long as he wasn’t fucking her, I didn’t care.

“If you want this woman, why haven’t you made it happen? She was just at your place a few days ago.” When the tension in the conversation faded away, he turned back to the TV and scanned the people in the bar.

“I’m not a one-on-one kinda guy.”

“Not even for one night?”

I shook my head. “If I’m bored with two women, you don’t think I’ll be bored with one?”

He clinked his glass against mine again. “Touché.”

“And she won’t change her mind.”

“Must be a good girl.”

It seemed that way. She had the kind of beauty that could capture the soul of almost any man. The curves of her waist and lips weren’t the only sexy things about her. Her eyes drew me in the deepest. So bright and intelligent. And the way she strutted into every room like she owned it made me respect her. Instead of jumping into a threeway she didn’t want, she decided to walk out and find a better alternative. She wasn’t the kind of woman to make a sacrifice for someone else.

And I wasn’t the kind of man to make a sacrifice for anyone else.

Maybe the sex would be incredible. But we were just too stubborn to find out.

8

Siena

Bones sat across from me at the table in the bar, looking furious from the second he took his seat. Covered in tattoos and awash imminent threat as he was, not even his pretty eyes could make him seem harmless. His muscles stretched his t-shirt, and his broad shoulders looked like a solid wall. A glass of scotch sat in front of him, and he downed it quickly before he ordered another.

“Thanks for coming.” Now that I’d had a tour of Cato’s home, I realized it would be impossible for me to pull any kind of stunt—at least with my skill set. I could win a shootout and fight off a grown man, but to kidnap someone so protected was impossible.

“You aren’t welcome.” Both of his elbows rested on the table, and he sighed as he glared at me. “I’m only here as a favor to Crow. Make it quick.”

“How do you know him?” The Barsettis seemed to have a connection to everyone in Italy, from the Skull Kings, to the mob, and even politicians.

“He’s my father-in-law.”

It took a moment to process his confession. “You’re married to his daughter?” Bones seemed too dangerous to be part of the simple life Crow described. He was hostile and aggressive, a man with a reputation for blood lust.

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