AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I feel like I’m battling with a push and pull here—I have the upper hand, he has the upper hand, repeat. I kind of like it… It feels so foreign to express myself to a man. At least, express my actual thoughts without fear of being reprimanded.
I let go of the version of myself Ihaveto be and remind myself I don’t need to be her here. Away from my father, I can be myself.
I am my own.
The man cocks an eyebrow as if he’s considering something. He looks at me from under long, dark lashes, and my resolve crumbles.
“To be frank, Ms. Carey, all I got from that was you think I’m attractive.”
Remi’s hand is still glued to mine, and I suddenly become aware of just how sweaty my palm is as she lets mine go, apparently resurfacing with her own confidence back in place, because she flips her hair in my peripheral vision.
“Look, I admire your tenacity.” Another gorgeous smile. “What do you say I show you around, Ms. Carey? I would like to, at the very least, give you the full experience of my business while you’re here.”
My heart stammers. I was practically begging Remi not to leave me tonight, and now I’m the one who’s potentially being whisked away.
“Tobias Sanchez is already here, Ms. Danvers; I can show you to him, and he can give you a tour as well.”
Damn. He really did read all of our stuff. He’s quick on those questionnaires.
As if remembering something, he straightens. “Oh, how rude of me. I’m Dante, and I own Checkmate Enterprises. I was so enraptured by you, Ms. Carey, that I forgot to introduce myself.”
Remi pipes up from the dead, but instead of siding with me, she only hangs me out to dry further.
“Lead the way, Dante.”
Something unexpectedly feral inside me awakens as his name rolls off her tongue. I attempt to catch my breath while he turns away, my body feeling as if it’s finally able to inhale a deep breath without his watchful eyes on me.
Fuck. Me.
Fuck me.
I’m in for trouble with this angelic little vixen. I adjust my black tie and gulp down my insatiable need as I turn away from the absolute goddess of a woman who stole my attention the moment I laid my eyes upon her through the security system.
I planned on finding a woman to bring to my suite only after doing some seducing of the politician husband/wife duo, the Carters. My plan was to lure the couple in, find them a woman to spend their time with, and be on my best behavior until they were drunk enough not to care about me anymore.
But then I saw her on the cameras while getting cleaned up and notified Tammy I’d need Giana Carey to be pulled aside.
Something about her both unsettled me and called out to me. I love beautiful women. Aside from exacting revenge, the only other thing I’ve been doing alongside working is fucking women and trying to fucking forget about what I’ve lost.
Usually, fucking isn’t difficult. I find a willing partner who typically wants to skip the pleasantries.
But Giana is more of a challenge than I’m used to. Perhaps I should leave her alone and find someone a little less difficult. But as I watch her, the way her eyes widen every time I look at or speak to her, I’m more fascinated by her.
What’s a woman like her doing in a place like this?Bellissima.
I don’t bother looking over my shoulder to be sure the women are following me. I know they are. Despite the mouth she has on her, I saw the way Ms. Carey eyed me, and I’m positive I could have both her and her friend in the suite with me by the end of the night—but that’s not what I want.
There’s something compelling about this Giana Carey woman.
The moment I looked into her eyes, I felt some kind of…familiarity. And I can’t figure it out. Not for the life of me. That mask of hers can only hide so much, though.
I’m willing to bet neither Ms. Carey nor Ms. Danvers could ever imagine that, not even an hour ago, I was in the basement of this building beating the shit out of a hostage.
I smile as I see a few of the politicians eyeing me. I think I clean up pretty fucking nicely—I just need to remember to continue keeping my hands in my pockets as much as possible. My patrons don’t need to start asking questions about my bloody knuckles.
Making my way through the throng of guests already walking around, sipping their cocktails, and forming connections, my eyes lock on those of Tobias Sanchez—one of my high rollers, and the man who is going to take Ms. Danvers off my hands so I can get her friend alone.
“Mr. Sanchez!” I call out as we approach.
