She pulled back to study his face, her eyes thoroughly examining every line carved deep. “You really don’t. Are you going to tell me why you have to be a playboy? Why all the men in your family act that part? I presume they’re all acting.”
He nodded. “Yes, it’s part of our jobs. Stefano and Ricco no longer have to play that role, so that narrows it down to the rest of my brothers and me. As a rule, we try to take turns, but I have this metal in my leg and it’s going to be there for a while. My fear is, I’ll have to fly out of town and be seen in a club somewhere and you’ll get the wrong idea.”
“You fly somewhere and have to appear in a club, I’ll be right there with you.” A mischievous smile lit her face. “I could be that sexy stranger asking you to dance. If Geno’s anywhere around, he’d be begging you to let him give you back your money.” She rubbed her hand down his jaw, feeling the five-o’clock shadow with her fingertips. “Honey, now’s the time to fill me in on your family’s business. I said yes to you, which means I’ve made that commitment. We’re sorting things out. Tell me.”
He shook his head. “Give me a little more time, Sasha. I’m not stalling. I’ll tell you, but the timing is critical. It matters. Trust me a little bit longer.”
She studied his face for a long time before she nodded slowly. “Not too long, Giovanni.” She slid off his lap, stood up and held out her hand. “I’m way out of time. Lucky I’m with my boss because otherwise I’d be fired. As it is, West is probably going to give me a whale of a lecture. He’s so good at them.”
He laughed and took her offered hand, getting up to stand beside her. He wrapped his arm around her waist. “That better not happen. The only one who gets to lecture you is me. Or maybe Stefano, too. He’s bound to do it sooner or later.”
They started to the door. Giovanni stopped, pulling her to him. He cupped her chin in his hand. “Do you have to work, Sasha? We’re getting married. Soon. Do you really have to put yourself in danger when we don’t need the money?”
“I need to work. Sandlin is mine. My responsibility. If I can keep this job, working on the top tier, I’ll have enough to pay his medical bills and my apartment. Then, as soon as Pietro finds someone to replace me at the deli, I can drop that job. It will give me more time with my brother, but I need to work this job. I absolutely am going to be the one paying Sandlin’s medical bills. I’ve worked all my life and I can’t imagine just sitting at home twiddling my thumbs.”
“You wouldn’t be doing that. Francesca could use some help with all the things she does. You’re used to working on a ranch with a tremendous amount of responsibilities. That’s what she’s doing, trying to hold together the neighborhood and take that off of Stefano’s shoulders. You have no idea what a relief it would be to have someone helping her. Organizing for her. She’s been thinking about advertising for a personal assistant. It’s better pay than being a server in the club. You don’t even like it,” he pointed out.
“I’ll think about it. I don’t see how the pay could be better considering the tips I make on that top tier.”
“It will even out. At least talk to Francesca before you say no.” He was going to be talking to Francesca first. She did need the help, but she would be too sweet and say she was doing fine even if she was drowning. He needed her cooperation to get Sasha out of the club and where he could better watch over her. And he was going to have a few things to say to Aaron.
“Emme and Eloisa will make our wedding a huge event. I’m just warning you ahead of time, Sasha.” He opened the door for her and waved her through.
“Is my makeup running? I forgot to check. And we just got engaged. I think two to five years of getting to know someone is good before marriage. Especially when contemplating marriage into a family like yours with all those secrets.”
The woman didn’t pull her punches. He sent her a small knowing grin. “It isn’t the secrets you’re dragging your feet over, it’s Eloisa. And no, your makeup is fine.”
She shrugged. “That could be the truth. When are you going to tell me whatever it is you can’t tell me now?”
“When we’re in bed and my cock is buried so deep in your body I’ll know you can’t escape and you have to hear me out before you make your decision.” He opened the door and the music hit him. Loud. Obnoxious now. He didn’t want to dance or watch her serve drinks. He wanted to go home and be in bed with her with his cock buried in her.
He tried to make it a joke, but the consequences, once he told her the family secrets, were too costly. He risked who he was. If their shadows were woven too tightly together, and he knew that had already happened, then when they were torn apart, when she rejected him and their way of life, he would no longer be able to ride the shadows. She would forget she was ever with him, but the cost to him was his ability to ride. That was essentially who he was. He would always be a shadow of a man if she left him.
She stopped right before they got to his family. They were all there, patiently waiting. He felt them before they reached them. Their love. Their loyalty. Their support. They wanted him to succeed, and if they could have made Sasha fall in love with him, they would have collectively willed her to do so.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Sasha asked.
“No, at least I don’t think so, but if you can’t accept my family, the cost to me is more than losing you. I’m not influencing you by telling you more than that. If you accept me and can love me in spite of the public and private life we lead, then my world is right. If you can’t, Sasha, I’d rather know before we’re together and have several children.”
“Several?” Her eyebrows shot up. “What exactly is several? Can two be considered several? Or is it more like …” She frowned at him and then looked toward the group of people waiting.
He followed her gaze and found himself laughing all over again. There was a considerable amount of Ferraros standing there. He took her hand and pulled her in close, her front pressed tightly to his side. He walked her toward his family and then, just before he reached them, pulled her toward the wall, needing to kiss her. His palm wrapped around her jaw and he turned her face up to his.
Movement was all around, except directly in front of them where his family cut off all sight from the dance floor and any paparazzi waiting to see what Giovanni had been doing with his employee in the back offices. He knew they were there, crouched like vultures, waiting to get a photograph of Sasha.
As he bent his head to hers, a man stepped into the darkness, quite close. Giovanni instinctively shifted his body just enough to shield her if he had a camera. The man walked past them, swinging his arm out. Giovanni didn’t have the help of shadows, there was little light spilling near them. Pure instinct had him shoving Sasha away from him and blocking the arm coming toward them. The slice of a blade burned as he slammed a block hard enough to break bone. The man tried to run, even as he cried out in pain.
Giovanni was on him, taking him to the floor hard. His assailant’s face smashed into the floor with the force of Giovanni’s weight behind it. He rolled the man over and punched him hard several times in the face, breaking the nose and several teeth. It was Stefano’s hand on his shoulder that stopped the killing punch to the throat.
Giovanni rolled off him and allowed Taviano to help him to his feet. “You’re bleeding. He get you with that knife?” Taviano toed it without touching it.
Giovanni glanced down at his arm. “Shallow. I’ll clean it. No worries.” He glanced around him. “No one saw this little mess.” It was a statement.
“No, he’s a drunk. We’ll fix him right up.” Stefano turned to Emilio and his bodyguard nodded as he reached down and secured the knife. Instantly they were helping the injured man to his feet and hustling him back through the door to the office. He was gone in seconds and several men were already mopping up the blood.
CHAPTER TWELVE