Giovanni leaned into Sasha and put his mouth against her ear. “Nipple clamps,” he whispered.
Her skin flushed a delicate rose. She tried hard to give him a quelling look, but her laughter was too close to the surface.
“Dio, I’m in love with you,” he added, his lips brushing her earlobe deliberately. He couldn’t resist temptation. He caught her lobe in his teeth and bit down just hard enough for her eyes to widen in shock and her mouth to open slightly. Her breath slipped out in a heady rush. She dug her fingers into his thigh.
Very gently, he put his hand over hers and pressed her palm into the muscle of his thigh. “Breathe,” he whispered and brushed a kiss over the little sting.
A young waitress approached their table. She smiled at Ricco, looking at him as if he might be her hero. Ricco inclined his head. “Rita. I heard your studies went very well this last semester. How are you doing?”
“Great. I really appreciate the scholarship, Mr. Ferraro,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder, smiling at the boy bussing the table just over from theirs. “Maso is doing awesome as well. He really likes working here, and he’s gotten fast.” She made a little face. “There was some breakage at first. A lot of it,” she corrected with a grin, “but he’s over that phase.”
“Good. I hear very good things about both of you,” Ricco said.
“What can I get you this morning?” she asked.
As they were giving their orders, the door opened, allowing in a swirl of cool air and two obvious detectives dressed in long, brown, almost identical trench coats. Giovanni tightened his hold on Sasha’s hand. He made a small sound, one that alerted his family to the presence of the two policemen.
They fell silent as the cops approached. Both showed their IDs, although it was silly to do so as Giovanni recognized both from when they had come to Sasha’s apartment. “Detectives Maverick and Bradshaw.” He nodded to them. “What can we do for you? Or have you come in for breakfast? The food is the best.”
Art Maverick looked from Sasha’s face to Giovanni’s. “How are you, Ms. Provis?”
“I’m good, thank you for asking,” Sasha said. “I haven’t been back to my apartment.”
“I’ve arranged for a cleaning company to come in,” Giovanni said. “I’d prefer she doesn’t go back until we’re certain we removed every single camera and there is no evidence whatsoever of her stalker anywhere in her home.”
“You might think about changing the locks on the doors and windows as well,” Jason Bradshaw advised. “Have you had any more trouble with him?”
Giovanni pressed her palm harder into his thigh. He didn’t dare look at her. His family sat very silently, waiting to see how Sasha would handle her first test—lying to the police. She shook her head.
“That’s odd. He was so aggressive in your apartment. The wine, the lingerie, the entire scene, using everything in your bathroom and leaving his own towels. I would have thought he would have come at you more aggressively,”Maverick said, the frown on his face revealing he was attempting to figure out her stalker’s next move.
“What can we do for you?” Stefano asked.
Both detectives immediately turned their attention to the head of the Ferraro family. “John Darby has made allegations against you. He claims you came to his home and beat him up, staged him looking at porn and released the video to every outlet imaginable.”
Stefano frowned and looked first at Francesca, and then at his brothers. “John Darby?”
“He’s a reality television star,” Giovanni supplied. “He came to the club several nights ago and caused problems. Security threw him out.”
“I wasn’t even there, was I?” Stefano asked. “I don’t remember dealing with him.”
“He claimed you came to his house,” Maverick supplied.
“While I might not be opposed to beating someone up if they deserved it, I’m not in the habit of making porn films, or whatever he is alleging I did.” He sighed. “I suppose we’re going to have to call Vinci. Our lawyer can deal with this. I keep hoping people will leave us alone, but they always seem to find new ways to try to get money.”
“When was this supposed to have taken place?” Francesca asked, glaring at the two detectives.
Maverick gave the date, and Francesca looked outraged. “We were at the club. Celebrating. All of us. Stefano included. We danced most of the night. Drank a little too much and closed the place down. In case you’re wondering, I was the one dancing with Stefano.”
Mariko nodded. “We were all there.”
Bradshaw glanced at Sasha. She nodded her head. “It was crazy busy that night. All the Ferraros were there. Even a couple of cousins from New York. They stayed all night. Stefano and Francesca danced nearly every dance, and when they weren’t, they were at the table.”
“There’re cameras everywhere,” Stefano said, sounding bored. “This man picked the wrong night to accuse me. Most likely he was angry at getting thrown out of the club. I don’t know what he’s talking about with his little porn accusation, but I can call West, our club manager, and ask him to have all the security tapes pulled for that night. You’re welcome to go through them.”
Bradshaw nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Ferraro, we’d appreciate that.”
“You might remind whoever this man is that falsely accusing someone is a crime as well. I have half a mind to sue the bastard.”
Both detectives nodded, turned and walked away. Francesca looked at her husband. “Porn?”
Stefano shrugged. “I didn’t quite understand that allegation.”
“There’s money to be made in making porn films,” Vittorio announced.
There was silence around the table. Emmanuelle wadded up her napkin and threw it with deadly accuracy at her brother. She hit him right in the face.
“Hey. I was just stating a fact.”
“A random fact. Why do we need to know that?” Emmanuelle demanded.
“It’s good to be up on all the latest information,” he argued. “You might find yourself down-and-out and in need of funds.”
“Are you suggesting my baby sister become a porn star?” Stefano asked, a hint of true menace in his voice.
“No, I was suggesting she produce, fund, get behind the moviemaking industry if she’s out of money.”
“Do you remember what that detective accused me of doing?” Stefano asked.
“Making a porno?”
“No, beating the asshole up.”
Vittorio grinned at his brother. “Francesca, he’s threatening me.”
“I’m going to threaten you if the subject of pornography continues at our breakfast table.”
Sasha started laughing. “I think you all are a little crazy. Stefano sounds like my father, and Vittorio sounds a little like Sandlin.”
“And Francesca?”
“She sounds like me.” She made a face. “The difference is, she wouldn’t beat Vittorio up, and I would.”
Francesca burst out laughing. “There you go, Vittorio, the women are banding together to take you out.”
He put both hands into the air in surrender. “I’m the good brother, remember? Why are the tables suddenly turning?”
Rita arrived with the food, expertly putting plates in front of each person, not mixing them up. Ricco looked up and smiled at her. She beamed, as if he’d given her all kinds of praise. Her smile was a little shyer as she placed a plate and a pot of tea in front of Mariko.
Mariko inclined her head. “Thanks, Rita. It looks lovely.”