Page 23 of Gio


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“Charlie will have it dropped off before you leave in the morning.” He waves a hand dismissively.

“Okay.”

Gio drives the nicest car I’ve ever seen. It’s a black sleek looking Porsche with dark-tinted windows. The smooth tanned leather interior feels like butter against my skin. Instinctively I rub my hand against it to feel the softness.

Gio navigates the Providence streets seamlessly, maintaining the speed limit, and signaling perfectly. I can’t help but laugh.

“What’s funny?” His gaze lands on me in the passenger seat.

“Nothing,” I muse.“You just drive so polite for a tough guy.”

His mouth curls upwards into a smile. “Yeah? How should I drive?”

I take a moment to burn his profile into my memory. With his sharp features, dark hair, and muscles he looks devastatingly handsome at the wheel of this ungodly expensive car.

“You should be racing.” I say finally. “Like weaving in and out of lanes, just totally taking over the road.”

He laughs, glancing my way again.

“Don’t want to get pulled over.”

“Oh, you would never get pulled over.” I continue. “You probably have the cops on your payroll anyway, right?”

Whatever moment we were having fizzles at that stupid question.

“Watch it.” He mumbles.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” I tense next to him. “I just..”

“It’s fine Annie.”

I have a feeling it’s not really fine though.

He pulls the Porsche into my apartment complex and escorts me to the door silently.

“Uh, thank you, for taking me home,” I mumble sheepishly while fumbling with my keys.

He leans his shoulder against the brick wall next to my apartment door. His eyes locked on my every movement.

“Annie,” he whispers and my eyes lift to meet his instantly.

There was that spark again.

Electric.

It felt like hot fire burning through my veins.

His warm hand sneaks up to gently touch my cheek. Then just as quick, he snatches it back and ice replaces the fire.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “See you tomorrow for more training.”

I watch him walk away. As quickly as he came into my life, he’s gone.

There’s a manilla folder sitting on my desk, taunting me.

Inside it contains every piece of information there is to know about Annie Grace Byrne.

It’s not unusual for me to have my guy pull info on someone I’m working with, really it would be unusual if I didn’t. I have to be safe and protect my family and my crew.

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