I’m still recovering from the heart attack Renzo just gave me when he suddenly darts forward again. I’m shoved back down, and before I know what’s happening, his mouth slams into mine.
My mind comes to a screeching halt, and I don’t even have the capacity to gasp.
I wanted to make him care about me, but I never expected my plan to work so quickly. Hell, all I did was smile at him and show a little interest.
His lips move hungrily against mine, and it feels unbelievably good.
Shit. No feelings, woman. This isn’t a romance. It’s your ticket out of here.
It takes a hell of a lot of effort to remember my plan, and keeping with the act, I wrap my arms around his neck.
Renzo tilts his head, and as his teeth tug at my bottom lip, the kiss spirals into a wild force that threatens to overwhelm me.
Holy shit. Focus.
His tongue sweeps through my mouth, and my abdomen clenches hard while my stomach erupts with a kaleidoscope of butterflies.
Instead of having to put in effort to return the kiss, it just happens, and before I know it, I’m lost. His body presses against mine, and it makes anticipation and need build within me.
This man is like the apple in the Garden of Eden, and just like Eve, I’m tempted to take a bite.
My teeth tug at his bottom lip, and my tongue wars with his.
His addictive scent fills the air I breathe.
His hard cock presses against my thigh.
His mouth casts a spell over me until my plan is nowhere in sight, and I’m solely focused on how good it feels to kiss him.
With his one hand clamped around my neck, his other moves down the right side of my body until he reaches the bare skin of my outer thigh.
His touch has tingles racing over me, and I move my hands to the sides of his jaw. Our lips knead, and our tongues taste, creating so much friction I’m not sure I can remember my name right now.
His hand moves up, and when his fingers brush over the surgery scar, he pulls away as if I just burned him.
It happens so fast. One second he’s devouring me, and the next, he gets up and stalks away.
I’m left lying on the balcony floor, blinking like an idiot.
What the hell was that?
I’m not talking about him walking away. I’m referring to the way I returned his kiss. The way I freaking loved it.
Holy shit. No.
Renzo is a killer. A criminal. A freaking mafia boss.
He kidnapped me and hurt Dad.
He killed Dr. Bentall.
Pressing my hand to my stomach, I suck in desperate breaths.
Renzo is your enemy. Never forget that. You’re just making him care, so he’ll let you go. This is all part of the plan.
Feeling calmer, I get up off the floor and head inside. I shut the sliding door, and when I walk past the living room, I find Renzo taking a sip of whiskey.
I stop and stare at the man who just kissed the ever-loving hell out of me. My eyes glide over his muscular body, the impeccable three-piece suit, and his ruffled hair, which normally doesn’t have a hair out of place.
His features are drawn tight, and the air around him feels tense.
Renzo’s eyes flick to me, and I consider running to the safety of my bedroom.
That would defeat the purpose. Stay right where you are.
His gaze remains locked on me as he takes a sip of his drink, the sight hot and a little unnerving.
Damn, the man is heartbreakingly attractive.
And he just kissed me.
Stick to the plan. It doesn’t matter how hot he is.
He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing on me as if he knows I’m up to something.
I take a step forward and gesturing in the direction of the dining room, I say, “Thanks for that.” Realizing it sounds like I’m thanking him for the kiss, I quickly add, “For saving me even though I wasn’t planning to jump.”
His voice is low and deep when he murmurs, “Twenty-seven yellow cabs?”
I shrug and take another step closer to him. “There’s not a lot for me to do here. I was just passing the time.”
When I take another step, the corner of his mouth lifts as if he’s amused. “What are you doing, topolina?”
I shake my head and feign innocence. “What do you mean?”
He takes another sip of his drink, just staring at me as I slowly inch closer as if I’m approaching a wild animal.
My stomach is a ball of nerves, but I don’t stop until I’m standing right in front of him.
I suck at flirting, but here goes nothing.
Reaching for the glass in his hand, I take it from him and help myself to a sip before handing it back. I need the alcohol to be brave.
Giving the man my best provocative expression, I say, “You kissed me.”
He’s still watching me with amusement as he murmurs, “I did.”
Lifting a hand, I run a finger over the buttons of his vest. “Want to continue what you started?”
Suddenly, laughter bursts from him, and he sets the tumbler down before shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.
“I’m curious to see how far you’ll take this,” he says as he looks at me again.
Crap. He’s not falling for the act.
Changing tactics, I let out a sigh, and crossing my arms over my chest, I force myself to think of Dad and the state he was in so the memory will bring tears to my eyes.
With my chin trembling, I say, “Can you blame me, Renzo? I’m lonely. Is it so hard to believe I crave human interaction?”
The amusement vanishes from his face, and his breathing actually speeds up.
Did the threatening tears actually work?
He stares at me for a moment, then whispers, “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.”
It is?
“I’m sure I’ve said it before.”
He shakes his head. “No, you haven’t.”
I take in his strong reaction to hearing his name and wonder why it matters.
“Renzo,” I say it again. “Renzo Torrisi.”
His expression grows serious, and his eyes sharpen on me. “That’s enough mind games for one night.”
Lifting my chin, I say, “I’m not playing mind games.” When he walks past me, I hurry to add, “I’m stuck here forever. The least you can do is let me get to know you better.”
He stops walking, and standing with his back to me, he asks, “What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
“I’m thirty-five, can’t cook to save my life, and love long walks on the beach.” Turning around, he gives me a mocking smile. “My favorite color is blue.”
Letting out a sigh, I lift my hand and push some hair behind my ear. “You’re being impossible.”
His expression darkens as he takes a step back toward me. “What do you want to hear, topolina? I’ve killed eighty-seven people. Some quicker than others.” He takes another step, and it feels like I’m being hunted. “I smuggle illegal arms and deal with people who would leave you traumatized for life if you ever met them.”
Another step brings him almost toe-to-toe with me.
He leans down a little. “And right now, I’m thinking about forcing you to marry me so you can give me the heir I lost. After all, I’m stuck with you for life. I might as well get something out of it.”
Jesus.
I’m so rattled the only thing I can say in my defense is, “I have to wait a year before I can have children.”
For the second time tonight, he lets out a burst of laughter before saying, “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll make sure to buy condoms when I go to the store again so I don’t get you pregnant before the year is up.”
Not winning with this man, anger starts to bubble in my chest, making me stupidly brave.
“Good. Make sure you stock up. I haven’t had sex in years,” I snap.
The man gives me whiplash as his expression turns serious again. “How many years?”
Frowning at him, I mutter, “Seriously?”
“How many fucking years?” he barks.
“Five.”
His eyebrow lifts. “Want me to rectify that problem right now?”
What?
I move backward until I’m out of his reach. “It’s not a problem, and no thanks, I’ll pass.”
When he comes closer, desire tightens his features, and while I’m stunned by the sudden change in his mood, he lifts his hand to my face. His thumb tugs at my bottom lip as he leans closer, and I find myself holding my breath.
Instead of kissing me, his lips brush along my jaw until he reaches my ear. “Careful, my little mouse. Two can play this game, and I’m much better at it than you.”
“I’m not playing a game,” I whisper as I bring my hands to his sides.
He pulls back until our eyes meet. “I deal with thieves and murderers on a daily basis. I can smell a lie a mile away.”
Crap.
The corner of his mouth lifts. “You don’t really want to get to know me.”
Damn, he’s good.
I swallow hard because I’m all out of ideas.
What do I do now?
He tilts his head, and this time, when he leans forward, his mouth brushes against mine. “But I do want to get to know you.”
That means he’s definitely attracted to me. I just have to find a way to use it to my advantage.
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
His tone is downright predatory as he whispers, “Everything.”
Giving him a taste of his own medicine, I say, “I’m thirty, excellent at cooking, and beach sand makes me itch. My favorite color is green.”
A genuine smile spreads over his face, and it leaves me a little breathless because he looks way too freaking hot for me to handle.
“Is ginger your natural color?”
“Yes.”
He moves away from me and takes off his jacket. My eyes lock on the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants before he takes a seat on one of the couches. He rests his arm on the back of the couch, then gestures with a jerk of his head for me to take a seat.
Only when I sit down on one of the other couches does he ask, “Have you always wanted to be a chef?”
A smile tugs at my mouth. “Yes. My mom taught me how to cook, and I always found it relaxing.”
“Were you planning on working at a restaurant again?”
“Yes. I had a list of four restaurants I was going to visit so they’d know I’m available as a sous chef.” Scrunching my nose, I correct myself. “Make that three. The one reminds me too much of you, which is a pity. It was one of my favorites.”
He lets out a burst of laughter. “How the fuck do I remind you of a restaurant?”
“La Torrisi,” I say.
Again, he laughs, and it makes me smile.
“If you’d walked into my restaurant, I would’ve given you the job.”
“Pity you don’t own one,” I mutter.
“I do.”
Actually feeling relaxed, I ask, “Yeah? Which one?”
His expression turns playful. “Take a wild guess.”
The list of restaurants in New York runs through my mind until I stop on one. My lips part, and my eyes widen. “Are you serious? La Torrisi?”
When he nods, I can only shake my head. “I don’t believe you.” My mind races, then I say, “The manager is Viviana Corso.”
“Elio’s wife.”
Not remembering the name, I ask, “Elio?”
“My right-hand man. You’ve seen him at the warehouse.”
“The one always sitting behind the desk in the office?”
When he nods, I’m still skeptical. There’s no way he owns one of the best restaurants in New York.
“You still don’t believe me,” he murmurs.
“No.”
He gets up and grabs the remote from the coffee table. Switching on the TV, he searches for a folder out of the many ones on the screen and clicks on it.
Come to think of it. I’ve never seen Renzo watch regular TV. He just uses it as if it’s an oversized computer screen.
The next moment, there’s a live stream of the restaurant on the TV, and my lips part in another gasp.
Renzo takes his phone out of his pocket, and as he dials a number, he says, “Keep your eyes on the screen.”
A second later, he says, “Hi, Viviana. I can see you’re busy. I just need you to wave at the camera.”
I watch as the manager waves, a smile on her face.
“I’ll drop by tomorrow,” he tells her before ending the call.
Holy shit.
I can’t stop staring at the screen, and Renzo has to switch off the TV before I turn my attention back to him.
“Your father’s house is not the only place I watch. I like to keep an eye on all my businesses.”
Renzo owns La Torrisi.
I blink at him for a solid minute before I ask, “Why be a criminal if you have such an amazing restaurant?”
“Being a criminal is my birthright. I was born into the Cosa Nostra and took over when my father died.”
“Still. Can’t you just leave?”
A smirk forms on his face. “The Cosa Nostra is my family, topolina. They come first.” He waves at the TV. “My other businesses are purely a source of income.”
He leans back against the couch again and watches me, the playful expression still on his face.
Today, I’ve seen a side of this man that’s left me speechless.
This mafia boss who kills without blinking an eye and kisses like the devil is also a businessman with a playful side.
And I get the feeling I haven’t even scratched the surface. There’s a hell of a lot more to learn about him.
