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Heels forgotten, I turned and grabbed the doorknob, but before I could get the door open all the way, his hand appeared above my head and slammed it shut. The echo sent a tremor through me. His shoulders blocked out the light. His presence, heavy and palpable, skimmed down my spine. “You started this game,” he said, with the rough sound of anger. “Finish it.”
I choked on my fury. “I hate you.” “I think about you.”
I stared, eyes wide. He watched my expression, bitter amusement passing through his gaze. “There’s your fucking secret.”
“You want to know why I don’t touch you?” I shook my head. “Because if I did, I wouldn’t stop. Not until I’d snuffed out that pretty fire in your eyes.” His gaze flashed. “Don’t shut yourself in a room with me again, Gianna.”
He might be the cutest, but I’d heard he was the kinkiest, too.
My bare feet touched the cool concrete in the hall just as the first pop cut through the air. A draft hit my face, a ring sounding in my ears. John slumped to the floor with a solid thunk. I stared at the splatter of red that slid down the wall in front of me. My breath escaped me in one rush as someone slammed me to the wall, covering me with their body. Pop. Pop.
“You heard Antonio.” Tears filled her eyes, one escaping her bottom lashes. “I have a bad feeling, Gianna . . .” “You love him.” “Yes,” she cried. “I don’t want to live without him.”
“No,” I cried, as I dropped to my knees and fought to breathe. Sydney got her wish. She didn’t have to live without him. On my twenty-third birthday, I became a widow of one.
Allister hadn’t said a word as he picked me up, letting me cry silently on his shoulder while he carried me outside. Before he disappeared back inside, he’d taken off his suit jacket and rested it on my shoulders. It smelled like a man’s. Deep, and rough, and masculine. I tried to drown myself in the scent instead of the numbness.
“You don’t have to stay,” I told him. “I’m fine.” “You’re in shock,” was his response. He looked around the place, his shoulders tense. He didn’t want to leave me here. I thought he even hated the idea. The question was, why?
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “Don’t lie to me again, Gianna.”
As I walked past, he caught me by my t-shirt. I looked up at him. I didn’t know why he was here, why he was helping me. Nonetheless, I was suddenly grateful. I didn’t want to be alone.
“Regardless of what you might believe, Gianna, I’m a grown man. Dress appropriately in front of me next time.”
I realized what was wrong with Charming. His blue eyes were dull and cloudy. Not piercing and deep enough to drown in. Lovely. I’d let the disgustingly handsome fed ruin an entire eye color for me.
“I’ll leave with him if I want,” I finally managed. “Try it.” “You don’t get to tell me what to do.” “I just did.”
“You heard me, Gianna.” I’d heard him, all right. Didn’t mean I’d listen.
The sight that sent an odd sensation tightening in my stomach was his hand coming up to rest on her hip, in the most natural way, like he’d done it before. He was touching her.
The look was full of the promise of retaliation. And then he dismissed me, giving all his attention to the brunette, as though I couldn’t be stupid enough not to listen to him.
“Hello, Niall,” I responded. “This is Charming.” I patted the man’s chest beside me. Niall sized him up. “Charming,” he murmured, but I couldn’t tell if he was greeting him or mocking him. I loved Niall. “He’s not very deferential, is he?” Charming asked, an edge of disgust in his voice. Charming was a total loser.
Under the bright lights in the kitchen, it was clear his suit was worn, his shoes scuffed. He didn’t have any money and was hard-up for blow. Ugh, why had I let this idiot into my apartment?
His gaze was lowered as his hands twisted a silencer onto the barrel of a gun. My throat tightened, and panic bit at my veins. He looked up. His eyes were cold enough to give me frostbite. “No,” I breathed. But it was too late. He pushed the door open, and his lazy, heartless gaze found Charming. A muffled pop hit my ears. Blood splattered across the counter and cupboards. White powder dusted into the air as Charming hit the floor, cloudy blue eyes wide open, a bullet hole in his forehead.
His apathy filled me with an anger so deep I saw red. “Figlio di puttana!” I spat. You son of a bitch. As he turned to the door, cold panic flared in my chest. “Wait,” I pleaded. “Please don’t leave me with this! Allister!” He didn’t even look back.
“If you fuck my relationship with Allister, Gianna . . .” I frowned. “What do you mean? I thought he was just one of your men?”
“I’m one measly girl. What could I have done to ruin your relations with the dirty fed?” He grunted. “You’re only ‘measly’ when it’s convenient to you. Do not go anywhere. Do you understand me?”
A flicker of something bright and full of life. Like the reflection in a neurotic person’s eyes. It was madness. It was obsession.
So, this was what it felt like to be touched by him . . . Addictive.
I wasn’t like any of the women I’d seen him with. He preferred classy, composed, and docile. I was the opposite. He wanted me, and he hated it. I was his own little game. If he touched me, he’d lose. I suddenly knew, this was a game I wanted to play with everything in me.
When his lips parted, I let the liquor trickle from my mouth to his. Pure lust erupted inside me so violently I grew dizzy. I ran my hands up his abs, curled my fingers into his chest, as if I could claw my way through his shirt. He was so hard and warm, and smelled so good I could get lost in him. Sliding a hand up his neck and grabbing a fistful of hair, I pushed the rest of the liquid into his mouth with my tongue.
“You’re playing with fire, sweetheart.” His voice was black velvet set out to freeze.
“I’m not one of your admirers. I’m not going to hold my dick and pine over you, just waiting for the day you might choose me. If I fuck you, Gianna, nobody else ever will.” My stomach dropped, and I almost choked on my next breath. “If you don’t get your ass out of my apartment while you still can”—his voice drifted to a dark rasp—“there’s no going back from this.”
He lifted my foot and began to gently clean the cut himself. I swallowed, stunned quiet. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ever done something like this for me. Not since Mamma. How could a man be so cold, and yet so warm all at once?
“Should have known you would be this perfect,” he murmured.
But then he dropped to his haunches in front of me, ran a hand across my cheek, and kissed me. Shock and warmth erupted in my chest. I moaned, wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and climbed onto him until I sat on his thighs. He tasted so good, so addictive. And I savored every lick and dip, every press of our lips. He kissed me without any reservation, like he had a right to, like I was his.
“We’ll talk about this when I get back.” “This?” “Us.”
“How could someone ever forget your face?” I said. For some reason, he thought that was funny. A smile touched the corner of his lips, and it was so sexy I stood up and kissed him. He made a noise of disapproval in the back of his throat, but he let me have that kiss. Soft, wet, and sweet.
“Call this number if you need anything.” “Sure thing, Officer.” He smacked me lightly on the ass and walked out of the room. I later did my homework. His name was Christian. But it didn’t matter. It would be three more years before I’d ever see him again.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but, honey, I don’t think he’s into you.”
A vulnerability had followed me around since that night. He’d seen me naked, had made me come apart under his hands. I’d begged him for more. And I’d gotten nothing from him. He hadn’t even taken off his stupid tie. Maybe it was all part of his game.
“I’ll come see her tomorrow,” I said mindlessly. “She loved you so very much.” Tears and a smile touched the nurse’s voice. “You were everything to her.” Pink church dress. Her smile. A hand on my heart. “Dance to this . . . whenever and however you want.”
“I know what you’re going to say, but I have to ask it: Would you like to go home to Chicago?” I shook my head. “Then your single life is over.” His gaze met mine. “Pick one of my men, Gianna, or I will do it for you.” One week later, I became Mrs. Richard Marino.
My business overseas had taken longer than I thought, but one month shouldn’t be long enough to come home and find Gianna fucking married. Hearing the news, nonchalantly, from Ace on the phone had felt like a blow to the stomach. It stole my fucking breath, turned my blood to fire. I’d lost it. I’d destroyed every goddamn computer in that room.
“The men you spoke of during our last session, are they still a part of your life?” “No.” “Why not?” Because I killed them.
“They have a word for what you’ve described, Christian.” I paused, my hand on the doorknob. “Obsession.” A corner of my lips lifted as I stepped out of the room and shut the door behind me.
I spun some pasta onto my fork and took a bite. Unfortunately, loneliness still thrived in the light.
“You are so right. A lot of men struggle with impotence. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
“Fair play.” This was about payback? “For what? Wait, don’t tell me—he stole one of your women.” The slightest muscle tightened in his jaw, and I faltered. “Oh, my god, he did.”
“You know nothing of my past,” he growled. His words were different, rougher, than they should have been. It took me a moment to understand the significance while I was trying to catch my breath. And when I did, I stared at him, panting. The bastard was Russian.
She’d thrown her goddamn shoe at me.
“You know what?” Ace lifted a shoulder and turned to me. “What the hell.” His fist collided with my jaw.
I’d missed the sight and smells of home. Fuck, who was I kidding? I knew why I was here, and it had everything to do with a grown woman with sparkly-painted toenails.
