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She’s wearing a printed playsuit with a halter neck and her feet are bare. All her blonde hair is piled up on top of her head in a haphazard bun, and tendrils have escaped and are framing her face.
Yeah, she’s fucking cute. Cute girls are trouble.
Just the sort of trouble I crave.
As she sees me standing on her front step, her eyes widen. I bare my teeth at her in a smile. “Miss me, baby?”
Her hand slips down the door frame and she stands back. “Are you here to see my father? I’ll go and get him.”
“I’m here to see you.” I step past her into the hall and gaze around. It really is a lovely house. My own is bigger, but it’s missing that woman’s touch.
“What? Why?”
Arguing with me already. I crowd her close to the wall and brace my hands on either side of her head. She smells like vanilla, and those big eyes open wide in surprise as she gazes up at me. Such plush lips she’s got. I bet she could learn to give a killer blowjob.
“Because I haven’t got anything better to do, or because I wanted to see you. Pick one and go upstairs and get dressed. I’m taking you to dinner.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“My sister will be there and she wants to see you,” I lie. “We’re eating at one of my casinos.”
“I can’t go to a casino. I’m seventeen.”
I lean closer and stroke a finger under her chin. “It’s my casino, baby. Don’t you worry your pretty head about that.”
“Someone might recognize my face and you’ll be reported to the…” She trails off as my smile widens. People can file a thousand reports, charges and complaints about me, but no one will stop me from doing whatever I like.
She’s opening her mouth to protest some more when there’s a deep voice behind us.
“Please go with Salvatore, Chiara, and stop talking back to him. I didn’t raise you to be so disobedient.”
I glance over my shoulder at Mayor Romano. He seems more annoyed with his daughter than the six-foot-three man who has her backed against the wall.
As it should be.
Chiara flushes and looks away. I lean down close and whisper in her ear. “Do as Daddy says, baby.”
The Mayor steps forward. “How are you, Salvatore? All well in the city?”
“All’s well in my part of the city.”
The mayor grins like the Cheshire Cat, but as his gaze lands on his daughter again, the smile is wiped from his face. “What are you still doing here? Go upstairs!”
Chiara ducks out from under my arm.
“Take all the time you need, baby,” I call after her, watching her walk up the stairs in those tiny shorts. Damn, that’s a cute ass she’s got.
I go out into the courtyard and drink a Campari with the mayor while Chiara gets ready. Twenty minutes later, I hear the click of high heels coming toward us, and turn around.
Holy fucking hell.
On her birthday, Chiara looked chaste. In her school uniform she’s deliciously cute. Now, she’s coming toward me in a black satin dress that clings to her breasts and hips and is slit up her thigh, and she has the attitude and lifted chin of a femme fatale. The look is completed with bold red lipstick.
“Holy fuck,” I purr, my teeth sinking into my lower lip. “I could eat you up.”
I reach for her and splay my hand on her lower back, drawing her closer, vaguely aware that Mayor Romano has left us alone together out by the pool.
Chiara gazes up at me through her lashes. “I don’t want to be recognized tonight, so I dressed differently.”
