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“He kind of moved in without asking. I couldn’t throw him out.”
We reach his car, and I turn around, suddenly wondering how wise it is to get into a car with someone I barely know. As the thought hits me, he raises his hand and takes my chin between his fingers, tilting my face upward. A finger lightly brushes the skin on my cheek, and I find myself leaning into his touch. His head bends until his mouth is next to my ear, his lips making slight but electric contact.
“You are one extremely unusual creature, Goldie,” he whispers into my ear. His voice is rough and hypnotizing, sending a shiver down my spine. “And I like unusual things very much.”
His other arm wraps around my waist, and in an instant, I find myself sitting on the hood of his car, my legs astride his body.
“There’s nothing unusual about me,” I say, watching his amber eyes. He has a small scar on his forehead above his eyebrow, and I reach out to touch it. Our faces are so close that his breath brushes against my lips. If I were to lean forward a little, my lips would touch his. I move my finger fromhis eyebrow down the side of his face and then bury it in his hair at the back of his neck. At the same time, his finger slides upward from my chin to my bottom lip.
“I beg to differ, Goldie.” His finger vanishes from my mouth, replaced by firm lips.
The kiss is slow. Controlled. Just like him. I tighten my hand at his neck and marvel at how his lips savor mine. It’s as though he’s discovered a new and exotic land. I’ve always thought that hard and forceful kisses were the most intense. I couldn’t have been more wrong because the way he’s exploring my mouth is downright sinful. Would he make love the same way? For some reason, I don’t believe he would. His other hand reaches down to the small of my back and under my top, sliding upward along the ridges of my spine, igniting the firework flashes with each and every gentle touch.
“Come to my place,” I whisper into his mouth, not quite believing my boldness. I don’t invite strangers home, and I’ve only slept with men I’ve been dating, but here I am, inviting a nameless man into my bed to do whatever he wants with me. It’s reckless. Crazy. Why don’t I care?
He angles his head, watching me intensely. His hand is still holding my chin, his finger caressing my lower lip. “Are you sure?”
I open my mouth to say yes when a whizzing sound pierces the air as the windshield behind me shatters. I scream. The arm around my waist tightens, the hood disappears from beneath me, and I find myself pressed fully against the side of the car, my face flat against a rock-hard chest. Another shot echoes through the air. The bullet sends shards of asphalt up like sparks just to the left of us. A car screeches to a halt somewhere nearby and is closely followed by a second one.The chest vanishes, and suddenly, I’m being bundled into the back seat of a vehicle.
The jacket guy is speaking to the driver in a disturbingly even voice. “Take the girl home. Make sure you’re not followed.”
“Boss,” the driver nods toward my protector’s upper arm. “You’re bleeding.”
My eyes snap to his side, and I see the dark crimson stain spreading across his sleeve.
He ignores it completely and turns to someone who’s now standing behind him, out of my field of vision. “Find that fucking sniper.”
He throws one rapid glance at me and brings his palm down on the roof of the car. In a split second, the vehicle lunges forward, and I’m pressed to the back of the seat, feeling for the first time what it must be like to blast into space.
Chapter 6
“You got reckless, Boss,” Nino says. “Standing there for two hours, waiting for the girl where anyone could see you. And in the middle of the day. It was only to be expected.”
“Did you find the shooter?” I ask.
“It took us most of the night, but yes. Just a gun for hire.” He looks at the bulge of the bandage beneath my sleeve. “And not a very good one.”
“Did he say who hired him?”
“Stefano worked him over pretty good, but he kept saying he doesn’t know who hired him. Could it have been Nera Leone?”
“It’s not her,” I say. The wife of the Boston don is a great schemer, but she keeps her promises. “Where are you holding the shooter?”
“In the old safe house.”
“I’ll come over later. What about the girl?”
“She went to work this morning, as usual. We have twomen on her constantly, but so far nothing suspicious has occurred. I don’t think anyone other than the hitman saw her with you. She should be safe.” He looks at me pointedly. “If you keep your distance.”
He’s right. But the problem is, I don’t want to keep my distance.
* * *
It takes me two hours to go over the updates on the shipments of drugs with Arturo, my underboss. I leave the operational part of the narcotics business to him, so if everything works as it should, he only needs to bring me up to speed once a week. I spend the next hour with Cosimo, Rocco, and Giancarlo—the capos in charge of our construction division. They report to me daily. Dusk has already fallen when I head over to the safe house.
An hour later, I turn my car onto a dirt road that’s hidden from prying eyes by a thicket of trees and follow the track downhill. Soon, I reach a rusty gate and flash my lights four times. A man in black tactical clothing emerges from behind a tree, unlocks the gate, and drags it open.
“Is Stefano still here?” I ask when he approaches the driver-side window.
