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The sudden recollection has me running to the landline in the room and, what do you know, there it is, stuck to the back of the console, almost too small to see. A tiny black bug transmitting all of my words back to whoever is listening. Not that it will be netting them any information. I literally don’t talk to anyone when I close the door behind me.
Yeah, that’s right, whoever is listening, I really am a lonely loser who has no friends.
A further search nets me two more bugs. One plugged into the wall socket beneath the desk in the corner, and another one in the bathroom hidden beneath the vanity.
Massimo.
The invasion to my privacy ignites my temper like a match to gasoline.
“Asshole!” I yell into the listening devices. “Asshole. Asshole. Asshole.”
I’d like to say I storm back to Lair like a bat out of hell to confront Massimo, but that’s impossible to do when your car is still on blocks because someone stole your tires in the middle of the night so you have to take a cab through busy New York traffic.
It takes me thirty minutes to get there, but my temper is still boiling by the time I reach Lair.
Clearly, Massimo was expecting me because he’s sitting behind his desk with that amused grin on those stupidly kissable lips and is completely relaxed as I spin into the room like an EF5 tornado and throw the surveillance devices onto his desk in front of him.
“This is a complete breach of my privacy,” I yell at him.
“And?”
“And how dare you!”
He rises from behind his desk, and it’s like watching the devil rise up from hell—all dark energy and villainous intent but sexy and delicious and very, very enticing. Every female instinct in me wakes up, despite knowing it would be very bad for me let him get too close.
“How many times do I have to tell you. I have no alliances left. No bad intentions. When are you going to trust me?”
He takes a step toward me, and the pounding in my heart skyrockets to new levels.
“You of all people should know how betrayal works. You very rarely see it coming if you’re too busy looking the other way. The only way to protect yourself is knowing what your enemy is up to when he thinks you don’t know.”
“I’m not the enemy!” I cry. “I’m the girl in the blue dress whose first kiss you stole.”
The words rush out in a surge of emotion and I immediately regret them.
Much to Massimo’s amusement.
His lips twist, and one perfectly shaped eyebrow lifts. “Stole? If memory serves, you didn’t complain.”
“Because my mouth was full of tongue.”
His black-as-black eyes burn as he steps even closer.
“Do you really think I’d let you into my club without knowing what you are doing when you’re not here?”
The way he’s looking at me, it’s like fire and ice. Fire because standing this close to him is like being absorbed into a wildfire of physical attraction and lust, and ice because all the confidence I found in my anger has been suddenly doused with icy water as he moves even closer to me.
“Perhaps I should kiss you again, see if it helps your memory.”
I gasp. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He steps even closer. But I don’t move because I’m being dragged into his orbit.
A wicked look moves over his handsome features. “You should know by now, little monster, you should never dare me to do anything because I might just do it.”
23
MASSIMO
Christ, I’m in hell. I’m still hard from watching her dance, and now she’s yelling at me, her eyes wild, the gloss on her lips gleaming every time she opens her mouth to call me a name. Fuck, I should be putting a stop to it because all I want to do is bend her over my desk and fuck this need for her out of my body.
I stalk toward her, and her wild eyes widen. She takes a step back until the back of her thighs hit the edge of my desk.
“You need to remember who you’re talking to,” I growl.
My phone rings.
Thank fuck for small mercies.
It’s Matteo.
“What?” I snap into the phone.
“We’ve found an address for Harrison Tork.”
“Where is it?”
“In the city.”
Now that’s a surprise. Either he’s visiting, or he never left.
Which tells me something doesn’t add up.
A criminal accountant who steals a fortune from his unsuspecting victim doesn’t hang around if he has any brains.
Especially when his victim has ties to various criminal elements.
He should be living it up in a tropical island somewhere, completely off radar.
“Can you confirm a sighting?” I ask.
“No. But we’re here, out the front of his brownstone. You want us to check it out further?”
“No, send me the address. I’ll leave now. And, Matteo, nobody does a thing until I get there.”
