Page 38 of The Don
“How did they even know what size dress I’d need?”
His hands grip my waist as he kisses a path across my upper back until his face appears over my shoulder. His gaze, much like my skin and pussy, is on fire. “I know your body,” he whispers before licking my ear.
“Do we have time?”
“No,” he laughs, darting away.
I’m disoriented for a few seconds at the loss of his touch. “But…” I whine, following him into the bedroom, pulling at the waves from my Bantu knots. My hair’s still a little damp, but in this dress, no one will be looking at my hair.
He laughs and pulls on his suit coat. He looks dangerous in all black, and that does nothing to dampen my lust for him.
But I do have to wonder how the fuck I missed this sophisticated and deadly air about him when we met. That’s when I realize that he’s not wearing his eyeglasses tonight, and I see it — the disguise he was wearing that first day. I tilt my head, picturing him in that damn apron — the one I’d more than once imagined wearing while serving him a meal that I certainly did not cook while tossing and turning on that lumpy ass couch. I guess those innocent ornaments — his apron and glasses — fooled me, but not anymore, maybe not at all. Because even now, I can still see him as a version of the kindly, older restauranteur who turned me out with an afternoon of gastronomic foreplay, civilized conversation, and risky sex. Except now I know what I didn’t know then, no matter how he presents.
I also know for sure that Salvatore was always supposed to be mine.
“Are you ready?” he asks, offering me his hand.
There’s no hesitation, and I rush to his side in heels that are a little taller than I’m used to, but make my legs look amazing.
16SALVATORE
We drive west alongthe coast to a popular nightclub famous for its strong drinks and a dance floor that spills onto the beach. It’s aimed at tourists, and the cover charge and drink prices reflect that. So do the big security guards giving the women in short, tight dresses far more attention than me or my men. Shae has to squeeze my hand when the bouncer asks her cleavage for identification to keep me in line.
Under normal circumstances, I would never be caught dead in a place like this, but this club is the perfect setting for an illicit business deal. So I swallow the affront to Shae’s honor, knowing that it will make me more dangerous in the long run. There might be holes in my plan that I don’t have time to fill, but I’m more than prepared to shoot my way through them.
This is not the way I do business normally. I hate putting myself or my men in danger, and I’ve taken someone out for doing that before. So, I’m galled to have put not just my men and myself but Shae and our baby in a situation where I can’t control any of the variables. I don’t even have Giulio and Alfonso by my side.
But Shae’s warm hand in mine gives me a clarity of purpose. I will do whatever it takes to end this quickly,especiallyif it means protecting my heart.
Lorenzo and Federico lead us toward a table in the middle of the room, where everyone can see us.
Shae presses herself against my back, her mouth bumping my ear as she leans close. “Um, is this okay?”
I stop at the table. Federico pulls a chair out for her. I squeeze her hand and brush my fingers along the side of her neck. “Do you trust me, bella?”
Her big doll eyes are wide, open pools of dark brown. “Yes,” she says without hesitation.
I lean forward and brush my mouth across hers. I just want a small sip of her, the taste of her breath, but as soon as she opens her mouth, her tongue touches my lips, and then my hand is gripping the back of her neck, and our tongues are sliding together. I give myself over to this kiss. I give myself to Shae publicly, shamelessly. I’m not prepared when she pulls away.
There’s a smile on her face, and she winks at me. “Gotta put on a show.”
Laughter is easier in her presence. I smile lovingly at her, brushing my thumb over her soft jawline. “You might be very good at this.”
“We’ll see.”
I turn and nod at Federico, and he moves away. I hold Shae’s hand as she sits before taking my seat next to her.
I have Lorenzo grab the first waiter he sees to order a bottle of champagne. My hand is already on Shae’s thigh, so I squeeze her when she jerks, reminding her that this is all for show. But what isn’t a façade is when I pull her chair closer to mine, and she leans into me unconsciously, while her eyes roam around the room, taking everything in.
The dining area is elevated, giving us a great view of the dance floor below. At the edge of the building the tiled floor leads onto a sandy expanse and at the outer edges we can just glimpse the shimmering darkness of the sea beyond.
“What’s this place called?” Shae asks.
“Shore.”
She frowns at me. “That’s so boring.”
I hear one of my men snicker. “Si, bella. The padrino—”