Stefano nodded his approval. Francesca made a face at him.
“If I overheard the rules of the game, Giovanni, I would think you were after me on a dare or a bet,” Emmanuelle said. “I can’t imagine what you could say that would make me agree to go out with you, let alone be seen in public with you—except that. That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve heard in a long time. Poor Salvatore. He really liked her?”
“He said so. Salvatore wants to settle down. He said he told his parents about her and that he was serious. That’s the night he found out she was after him for the money.”
“I’d like to pay that woman a visit,” Emmanuelle said. “What’s wrong with these women? Sometimes I want to lock you all up and protect you myself.”
“Speaking of paying someone a visit, Stefano,” Giovanni said. “I can’t do it myself, or I would.” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Darby made a scene deliberately in the club after all the warnings. He had Sasha’s camisole torn open and would have exposed her on his fucking reality show. We got the footage.”
Stefano’s face darkened. “All of it?”
“We think so,” Taviano said. “There were a lot of paparazzi there. We needed them to film Salvatore and Geno so they had alibis while Lucca did his job. As usual, Lucca made it out of the plane and back in without ever being seen. As far as the world knows, he was in New York the entire time.”
“I’ll pay Darby a visit. That little prick needs to be taught some respect,” Stefano said.
“I’m with you,” Vittorio said. “I wanted to do a little exposure myself.”
“That gives me an idea,” Stefano said. He glanced at his wife, and forced a small smile to cover the grim darkness in his eyes. “We’ll talk about it later.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Sasha smiled as she handed the carefully prepared and wrapped sandwich to Tito Petrov. He was flirting outrageously with her. She’d been getting that a lot since she’d moved into her cozy little apartment above the deli. She loved her apartment. She liked the people she worked with at the deli and especially the owner, Pietro Masci. He reminded her of her father.
“Don’t just smile,” Tito complained. “Say yes. Go out with me.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m busy tonight.”
The deli suddenly went quiet, the buzz of conversation that was always present hushed.
“Tomorrow night then,” Tito insisted, his voice overloud in the unexpected silence.
“I’m working,” she said, as gently as possible, lifting her gaze to sweep the room, puzzled at the weird cessation of noise.
Giovanni Ferraro stood in the doorway, his wide shoulders seeming to touch from one side of the doorjamb to the other. He wore a three-piece pin-striped suit and looked so good in it she thought he should be modeling for some high-end fashion company. He wore his hair short as a rule, but lately it wasn’t quite as neat as it usually appeared in the magazines, as if maybe he’d neglected a cut or two. He was gorgeous. There was no doubt about it.
His eyes met hers and she couldn’t look away. His were dark and held mystery and had the capability of turning either ice-cold or fiery hot. He had to know he was hotter than hell, and she wasn’t in his league. Still, there he was and she wasn’t going to delude herself into thinking he wasn’t there for her. He was. He was hunting. She knew all about hunting. She’d lived by hunting. Now she was the prey.
Something perverse in her loved that. Her body came to life just looking at him. Staring into his eyes sent heat rushing through her veins. Tito half turned, saw Giovanni and slowly straightened. “Shit,” he said, under his breath. “Not again.”
Forcing her gaze back to her customer, Sasha pressed the numbers on the pad to ring up his purchase. She turned the entire pad around so he could swipe his card. He did so, muttering to himself. She didn’t understand, but she didn’t ask what he meant.
“You going out with him?” he asked. “Because I really would like to take you out tonight.”
That, she heard. Before she could answer, Giovanni loomed over them. He was big. All muscle. Intimidating. He gave off an aura of danger she hadn’t realized was so scary.
“She’s going out with me tonight,” he stated firmly, staring Tito down.
She glared at the two men. “Tito, please sign and take your sandwich. The line is backing up. I’m not going out with anyone, I told you both, I’m very busy tonight.”Men. She was stumbling over them lately and she wasn’t certain why. She had no time for men. She’d heard somewhere that if you weren’t open to a relationship, then men knew it and didn’t bother to ask you out. Or to dance. Or to have pizza. “I’m not a bone.”
Giovanni’s gaze drifted over her. Touched her mouth and lingered, dropped lower to drift over her body and then came back to her face. “Definitely not a bone. I appreciate that very much.” He glanced at his watch and then looked over her shoulder. “Pietro. Can I steal Sasha for just a minute? I won’t keep her long.”
She’d felt the heat of that slow, intimate perusal. He’d managed somehow to look possessive, not lecherous. The touch of his gaze sent more heat rushing through her, raising her temperature until she felt hot and edgy. She did her best to glare at him when she really wanted to fan her face, hoping it wasn’t red. Her body felt needy, her sex suddenly damp and clenching.
“Mr. Ferraro. Of course. Take your time. You can use my office if you need privacy.”
Sasha was horrified. She wasn’t about to go into that tiny office with Giovanni Ferraro. Not when she was feeling like she was. She started shaking her head.
“It’s Giovanni, Pietro, and thank you, your office is perfect.” He stepped right up to the counter, moving around Tito, who was still standing there with his mouth open.
“Smooth, Ferraro,” Tito said, snatching his sandwich off the counter and striding toward the door.
“Wait, you didn’t sign it,” Sasha called after him.
Giovanni leaned over, hit the 30 percent tip, drew an X with his finger and then tapped done. The pad accepted the signature as if Tito had signed it. “There you go. He gave a nice tip as well.”
“You can’t do that.”
Giovanni came right around the counter and took her arm, tugging to get her moving toward the back room. Pietro stepped up to take her place. She turned back to him. “He can’t do that. Can he?”
Pietro shrugged. “If it comes back, I know where to find both of them.”
Sasha went with Giovanni because she wasn’t about to cause a scene, not when the packed deli had every eye on them. The customers weren’t even pretending they weren’t listening. They stared, and no one said a word in the hopes of hearing more. She was grateful when a corner took them out of sight.
Giovanni took her down the hall to Pietro’s office. He stepped back to allow her through the door. Her first thought was that he was very gentlemanly until she realized that put him between her and the door. He even closed it and then leaned against the wood looking at her. His gaze moved over her just as it had done in the store, possessive, hot, making her feel as though it was a physical touch.
She waited him out, mostly because she was shaken by her reaction to him. She noticed each time their shadows touched, she had such an intense jolt of sexual hunger she was a little afraid she might jump him. Thinking that wasn’t such a good idea, especially after listening to the finer points of his little game, she backed across the room—which was all of six steps—and perched on the edge of Pietro’s desk, hoping she looked casual.
“You didn’t tell me you were working here,” Giovanni said.