AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I need to get out of this mess, and fast. With a false confidence, I spin around with a get-out clause on my tongue. He’s standing closer than I’d thought and it takes me off-guard. I stumble backward, heels hitting the bottom step, but before I land on my ass, a strong hand reaches out and wraps itself around my forearm.
My defiance flickers like a candle in the wind. He’s tall. Really tall, and now that I know who he is, he’s also really fucking big. My eye line barely reaches the third button on his shirt.
Being in his shadow makes me uncomfortable, so I mount the bottom step and fold my arms in an attempt to level the playing field.
He smirks.
“You sure are persistent for a man that isn’t interested.”
His gaze drops to my mouth. “Oh, I’m interested.”
Sudden heat flares against my stomach lining, and I let out a little involuntary puff of air. Something about the intensity of his gaze and the silkiness of his tone feels…inappropriate. I don’t doubt he has women skipping to his bedroom with a lot less effort.
I fake a yawn. “Sorry. Gotta go.”
Although his stillness is magnetic, I manage to tear myself away long enough to reach down, grab my belongings, and turn toward the entryway at the top of the stairs.
One step. Then another. My boot is hovering over the third when darkness shrouds me. I pause to squint up into the dim light and see a security guard, the one with the punchable face and rhetorical questions. He’s looming at the top of the stairs, blocking the exit.
Fuck.
As if he’ll give me answers, I glance back at Raphael. He’s standing in the same spot, with the same tight smile tugging at his lips, hands resting easy in the pockets of his slacks.
My attention shifts over his shoulder, and that’s when my confusion settles into something denser. The other men in the bar are now on their feet, all glaring at me. One steps into the path of a spotlight and turns his head.
I catch sight of his earpiece, and realization slaps me across the face.
Wearing suits mid-week. Sitting alone. Things I usually see as green checks, are in this case, massive red flags. It wasn’t a coincidence that they were all sitting separately, because they’re all bodyguards. They are working. And all for…
My eyes drop back to the Visconti. His dimples deepen. Cashmere charm and a razor-sharp smile.
“I’m afraid I have to insist.”
Ice-cold dread trickles into my bloodstream. Fuck. Less than ten minutes ago, I thought this dude was a little fish that wouldn’t nibble on my bait, and how wrong I was.
He’s a great white shark about to swallow me whole.
My pulse strums in my throat, and my hands grow clammy. Two fuck-ups in one week. That’s awful odds for a girl as lucky as me.
With defeat heavy in my stomach, I drop my bags on the step and smooth down the satin of my stolen dress. Outwardly, I’m calm, but internally, all of my organs are rattling with a new plan. My original game isn’t going to cut it anymore—I need something less seedy. Something less likely to get me tossed off the Cove Pier in a body bag.
Guess I’m heading into Act Three.
“Well, since you insist,” I snap in a tone that doesn’t mirror the panic creeping up my throat. Raphael’s amusement blisters my cheek as I make my way back to the bar and take a seat.
Dan catches my eye and gives a small, sorrowful shake of his head, conveying what I’ve already figured out: I’m well and truly fucked.
Raphael’s large hands grip the stool next to me, then he pulls it away from the bar like it weighs nothing. He hitches up his slacks and perches on the edge of it. With a small, expressionless nod to Dan, he rests his forearms on his knees, steeples his fingers, and bathes me in his attention.
“Tell me more about this game.”
My eyes slide unwillingly to him. His own gleam with quiet enjoyment, and, suddenly, I remember the time I picked up Marine Biologyfor Dummies at the library. There was this whole section about Great Whites, and how they can detect heartbeats in the water. He can hear mine thumping in fear and he relishes it.
Despite finding myself in the bottom of a pit without a ladder, my pride flares up like a nasty rash. I steel my jaw and rise to my feet. Without breaking eye contact, I slip off my coat again, and this time, I actually see his gaze warm the length of my body. It rolls from the skinny straps on my shoulders to the dip of my hip, down the length of my exposed right leg, and comes to a stop at my Doc Marten boot. Every inch he absorbs lays another brick of confidence in my core. And a fluttering feeling in my stomach, but I’m trying to ignore that.
He’s just a man, for Christ’s sake. Sure, a man with an infamous last name and surrounded by bodyguards who might chop me up and stuff me into my own suitcase, but, nevertheless, a man. And under the surface, they are all the fucking same.
I lean against the bar and run my necklace up and down its chain. Game. Right. I’m going for my least seedy tactic and hoping for the best.
