38

He pressed me back against the passenger door until he’d molded every part of me to his hard frame. A hard frame I could so easily picture now after seeing him when he’d walked out of the shower. The smooth planes of his chest. The wide breadth of his bare shoulders. The rippled perfection of his abdomen.

I slid my fingers down and slipped them beneath his jacket as he pulled his lips away and started a hot trail down my jaw. His lips were warm, and his breath whispered against my skin, sending tiny sizzles of current throughout my body.

Without missing a beat, he slid his hands beneath me and lifted me up, then placed me down on the trunk of his car.

“Open your legs,” he said against my skin, then he pressed himself between my thighs as I complied.

Closer and closer, until nothing but thin clothing separated us.

His lips continued down my neck, but as I tipped my head back to give him more access, I caught sight of the black car across the street. Inside it, a man sat in the driver’s seat, staring right at us. And in the car behind it, another man was watching us.

A cold tremor fired down my spine despite the heat that was pumping through my veins. “Dominic?” I said, angling away from him. “We need to leave.”

He sighed and stepped back, his hands still on my hips. “What’s wrong, limone?”

“There are people watching us,” I whispered.

Were these the men who’d shot up my apartment? We were out in the open. Nothing could stop them from killing us right here and now. My shoulders slouched like my body thought it could make itself small enough to disappear.

Dominic followed my gaze then barked out a laugh. “They’re my men, Fallon. They’re not ‘watching’ us.

They’re watching out for us so I can focus on more… enticing distractions.”

Some of the cold chill began to evaporate, but it had been enough to shock me to my senses. This man was part of the mob. He was keeping me against my will. What the hell was I doing making out with him?

“We should go,” I said even though my body railed in objection.

He muttered something under his breath. It sounded an awful lot like “sweet and sour”, but I had probably heard him wrong.

When he stepped back, I slid my feet to the ground and made a beeline for the passenger side door and practically tumbled into the front seat. It was so much easier when the line was drawn clearly in the sand, and we stayed on opposite sides of the battle. It was too confusing when he crossed the line, when he touched me and kissed me and made me forget about everything but the feel of his body against mine. It made me soft, it made me weak.

Those were dangerous things to be in the company of a killer.

****

Fallon

Dominic was silent on the drive back to his apartment. Despite the electricity that seemed to buzz in the air all around us, he seemed completely unfazed by it.

Could anything rattle this man? I wondered.

He pulled up in front of his condo and handed his keys over to a valet. I followed him out of the car, but I lingered outside the passenger door, staring up at the building. It had no bars on its windows or guards patrolling its perimeter, but it was a prison nonetheless.

My prison.

I wasn’t ready to go back in yet.

“Come on, Fallon,” he said after a moment, but I ignored him. I had no doubt I was just as much a captive outside as inside, but at least out here, my walls were invisible.

“Now,” he said in that tone that seemed to make my feet move of their own volition.

Maybe my feet were just smarter than the rest of me. The man probably knew a hundred different ways to kill me without anyone being the wiser. Really, after all the times I’d fought with him, it was a wonder he hadn’t put those skills to use. All those mobster guys in movies seemed to have perpetually short fuses. It was strange then, that Dominic had never lost his temper. Strange, and disconcerting. It would have been easier if I could have fit him neatly into a mold I recognized. Much less confusing, and at least then I could know what to expect.

He led me to the elevator and up to his condo.

“Signora Luca is here,” one of the men who guarded his door like a Doberman said as Dominic moved to turn the handle.

He paused, and his shoulders stiffened. He turned to look at me, eyeing me warily. Suddenly, I knew what could rattle the unshakable Dominic Luca: his mother.

“You can say whatever you want about me, Fallon. She’s off-limits,” he’d said my first morning in his home.

It was a strange side of him to see, and it bothered me. Not because it somehow made him more human. In any other situation, it would have been a relief to see he wasn’t just a coldhearted killer. But because, on the other side of the door, stood a woman to whom he was loyal. A woman for whom he’d do anything. He’d murder for her. He’d die for her. He’d take away my life for her.