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It's been years since I was last with anyone. Except for client dinners, I haven't even been to dinner with a woman in longer than I can remember. When you're juggling a job, the FBI, the mafia, and protecting a long-lost principessa, dating isn't high on the list of shit to do. But I want this woman in my bed.

I want to unwrap and unravel her, uncovering all her mysteries.

Who the hell is she?

There's no way she lives here. I would have noticed her if she did. Some women are simply unforgettable.

"You're looking for me, bella?" I shift to hide the tent in my slacks as she draws to a stop in front of me.

She huffs a breath, her chest rising and falling as if she just raced across the garage to catch me. There's no way she just ran in those fuck-me heels and her pretty little suit, though. "You're Diego Butera, the lawyer?"

"Yes."

"Good. I need to speak to you."

"You need a lawyer?" I reach into my pocket to retrieve a business card, irritated as hell that I don't have time right now to find out what she needs. I'm already running late to Valentino's dinner. I'd rather stay right here and talk this goddess into my bed. "Why don't you give me a call tomorrow, and we'll talk?"

She eyes me as I hold the card out to her, her expression carefully blank. "Do I look like I need an attorney, Mr. Butera?"

"Are people who need lawyers supposed to look a certain way?"

"You seem to think so."

My brows pull down. "I didn't intend to insinuate anything or offend you, bella," I murmur. "I simply thought you were confirming I was a lawyer because you want to speak to me as a lawyer."

She eyes me for a long moment as if assessing whether I'm feeding her a line of bullshit or not. I guess she decides I'm not because she plucks the card from my hand and tucks it into her pocket without looking at it. Her eyes meet mine, her expression almost sheepish. She seems rattled for some reason, as if I'm not what she expected. "Sorry."

"Maybe we should start again?" I suggest, giving her a reassuring smile.

She nods gratefully.

"I'm Diego Butera." I hold a hand out to her.

"Athena White." She slips her hand into mine, startling slightly when I accidentally shock her.

Her skin is soft as silk. Jesus. I want to feel it wrapped around my cock.

"Athena," I repeat. "Goddess of war."

She quirks a brow. "She was also the goddess of wisdom, heroism, and pottery."

She's argumentative and fiery beneath that perfect exterior.

I smile, amused. "No. You're definitely war."

"Hmm?"

"If you don't need a lawyer, what do you need from me, sweet Athena?" I ask instead of repeating myself. We both know she heard me anyway. I think she knows what I meant, too. She just wants me to explain it anyway. I have no intention of giving her that explanation today.

"We can discuss it tomorrow. You look like you're in a hurry."

"Duty calls."

"You're working?"

"Something like that. Come by my office in the morning. The address is on the card. We'll talk." I hesitate for a moment, half tempted to invite her to dinner tonight. It'll be a helluva lot more bearable with her seated across from me. "Unless…"

She cocks her head to the side, curiosity sparking in her gaze. "Unless what?"

"Do you have dinner plans?"

"Uh, not at the moment." She seems caught off guard by the question and then an amused smile spreads across her face. "Are you inviting me to dinner, Mr. Butera?"

"Actually, I'm begging you to save me from a night of unbearable tedium."

Her sultry laugh washes over me, sealing her fate. One way or another, I'm getting her in my bed. I may keep her there for days when I do. "For some reason, I find it hard to believe you're in for a night of tedium."

"You're right. It's worse than that." I grimace. "It's dinner with my brother-in-law and his family. He doesn't like me much."

"Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? You aren't supposed to like him since he married your sister?"

"Oh, I don't like him. He's a bastard, and that has nothing to do with the fact that he married my sister." Truth be told, I like him more since he married my sister. He's changed. Or hell, maybe I have because he's still one dangerous motherfucker. I just seem to hate him less than usual these days.

Gratitude is a bitch.

Athena laughs again.

"So, dinner?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," she says regretfully.

"Why the fuck not?"

She eyes me for a moment and then sighs before reaching into her pocket to pull something out. I watch in curiosity as she turns the object in her hand around to show me.

My stomach sinks as soon as my gaze lands on the silver shield in her hand.

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