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Playing with Fire

Page 5

by Graziano, Renee

Then he kissed her. He hadn’t before, which struck her as he slowly explored her mouth with his tongue, and a part of her wished he hadn’t. Sex was sex, but kissing implied something else. Still, she liked the warm feel of his mouth against hers.

  That was more dangerous than how fast he could pull a gun and put a bullet in someone he couldn’t even see. Sex was fine. Kissing implied romance and she wasn’t interested in romance, especially with someone in his profession, and she wasn’t talking about investment banking. Besides, she’d known him less than a day.

  “Are we waiting for some reason?” she whispered against his lips.

  The worst part was that he got it. There was also some measure of surprise in his eyes that the kiss had even happened, and he slipped back into the persona of the man she’d met at the party, sophisticated and detached. The man who had killed someone the night before, after he’d taken a woman he’d just met home and never really blinked an eye.

  “I never keep a lady waiting.” Nick slid backward and then thrust into her willing body, the movement deliberate, his hands braced on either side of her shoulders as he filled her again in an erotic glide. “Remember my agenda? You came, and then I came, and now we need to do it together. You definitely took the edge off, sweetheart. I can last all morning.”

  It turned out he was a man of his word.

  Chapter

  FIVE

  Reign took a bite of shrimp salad. “I was actually sore the next day.”

  “Seriously?” Giovanna leaned over the table.

  With a shrug, Reign took a sip of wine. “Let’s just say the phrase ‘not all men are created equal’ has meaning when it comes to Nick Fattelli.”

  “Introduce me?”

  “Not on your life.”

  Her friend smiled mischievously, tossing back her hair, the bustle of the elegant restaurant in the background. They were at a table near the back, the glass windows showing the pedestrians passing on the street, everyone in a hurry, but then again, this was New York. Hurry was the order of the day. She leaned back in her chair. “Okay, now I really need to meet him.”

  Gio was a beauty with a voluptuous figure and an engaging laugh. Nick would probably love her—all men did, but at the moment Reign was not inclined to share. “Maybe down the line. Let’s see how it goes. Fair enough? If it doesn’t work out, you can have him.”

  “You like this one, huh?”

  She wished it wasn’t true. “I need a little time to decide, that’s all.”

  “Possessive? That’s not you.”

  “Possessive for now.” She took a sip of her iced tea. “I’m playing this one day at a time. Vince is always my top priority.”

  “He’s registered and everything, right?”

  “NYU and my family pulled no strings. He made it on his own.” She was really proud of him.

  “Good for him.” Giovanna glanced down at the tabletop and then looked up. “The shooting … everyone knows about it. You think they were after Vince?”

  “I don’t know. He’s his father’s son.” Reign blew out a breath and stabbed a piece of avocado with emphasis. “He has a grandfather and several uncles in prison.… If whoever set it up wanted to get something from any of them, that would be the way to do it. I’m telling you that would be a mistake. My father would pull in every single debt he’s owed, so would his other grandfather. My son means everything to both of them. It isn’t wise to screw round with either one of our families, much less both.”

  “I don’t disagree.” Gio lifted a dark, perfectly plucked brow. “I would go out on a limb and say it isn’t worth it to screw with you either. Word has it there was someone in your closet and he was actually shot through the door.”

  The network of information never failed to amaze her.

  “He pointed a gun at the wrong guy,” Reign confirmed. The avocado suddenly was tasteless. She set aside her fork.

  “Apparently, since the shooter is dead.”

  “It bothers me.” She only admitted it with a measure of reluctance. “Nick’s very able to take care of himself. I’m not fooling myself there.”

  “Too able?” It was asked delicately, but Gio knew the Life.

  “Probably. And they still haven’t identified the intruder as far as I know. Maybe it’s just really what they think. He broke in. We came home. The intruder panicked and found the first place to hide, then realized we were going to be in the bedroom for quite some time, and tried to scare us by taking a shot.”

  “That was his big mistake.” Gio finished the last bite of her veal and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. It was a gorgeous day outside, with sunny skies and the temperature already in the upper seventies. People passed their window, some talking and laughing, some frowning, at least half of them on their phones. “But, how did he get past the alarm?”

  “The whole system was disabled. Otherwise I would have just slept in the spare room. Nick insisted I go home with him.”

  Her friend slid her empty plate to the side. “That’s a good sign. At least he’s thoughtful. You know you could have stayed with me.”

  Thoughtful? Generous enough in bed maybe, but Reign had no idea if he was thoughtful. “Gio, he killed a man in my bedroom. It was self-defense, I’ll grant that, and I certainly wasn’t carrying a weapon, but still. ‘Dangerous’ might be a better word. And to be honest, he kind of took over the situation.”

  All the way around. Not just because he obviously could use a gun with precision and react to a situation with a cool head, but because he’d handled the aftermath so well.

  Giovanna gave a small laugh, but her eyes were serious. “Honey, it sounds to me like he was all that came between you and potential disaster.”

  “I don’t disagree.”

  “What about Sal?”

  Giovanna was one of the few people who knew about their affair. Reign took in a long breath. “I haven’t talked to him in weeks.”

  “He’s crazy about you.” Gio and Salvatore Ariano were also old friends.

  Very carefully, Reign chose her words. “I’m just not sure that’s a life path I want to take, get me? Sal is picket fences and more kids, and I just think I’m past it. I’m busy. My career is on the verge of something big. Vince is almost in college. Sal needs to find the nice sweet girl next door. I’m not her. There’s nothing sweet about me.”

  “But what if he wants the sexy, naughty girl whose name alone would give his father a heart attack and make his family disown him.”

  “Kind of at an impasse, aren’t we?” Reign picked up a breadstick and took a bite off the end, even though she’d only managed to eat half of her salad. “Exactly my point.”

  “Now see, you do care. You’re protecting him.”

  “He hardly needs me to protect him. He’s a perfectly capable young man and knows how this all works.”

  “How does love work? Wow me with your expertise, because if I recall correctly, the only time you tried it, you fucked up your choice of men pretty bad.” Gio’s tone was not critical, but pragmatic.

  Were it anyone else making that comment, Reign would really be offended. She was actually pretty offended now, but this was Gio—and she had a legitimate point.

  After a moment, she said quietly, “I am uninterested in the drama bullshit between Sal’s family and mine, but if he pushes our relationship, I have a feeling he’ll get hurt, and I’ll be—at the end of it—the one responsible. I adore my father, but I can’t talk to him on this subject. Sal also wants more than I can give, so there. It’s all settled.”

  “In your mind. What about his?”

  Reign looked away at where the window reflected the sunlight. “He’s younger by a decent amount of years and he doesn’t have a son. You’ve seen him. He could really have his choice of any woman. I’ve made up my mind not because of him, but for his own good.”

  “I don’t think he’d agree.”

  “I lived through Ray’s lies and cheating, my father’s trial—my trust in men is shaky at bes
t.” Reign shook her head. “Sal needs someone with a less jaded outlook on life.”

  Gio stirred her tea. “The man who went to law school so he could represent his family in court? Yeah, don’t sell him short. He’s more of a realist than you give him credit for.”

  “I don’t mean to sound superficial, but considering he’s a good-looking guy, which he sure is, he doesn’t need me because—can I point out again—he could have anyone.”

  “You know, Reign, and I’m just putting this out there, maybe you should let him decide. Yeah, he’s a good-looking guy, and yes, he’s in law school, and yes, there’s all that stuff between your families, but you know, he’s nice. And that hair … I’ve got to love the dark blond hair, but he still has that Italian nose.”

  Sal was actually blond, which wasn’t as much of a surprise as some people might believe. His family was from the northern part of Italy, up near countries like Switzerland and Austria, and there was certainly some of that ethnic background in his blood. Flippantly, she responded, “You want to date him?”

  “Hell yes.” Giovanna sounded quite sincere but laughed to temper the moment. “I always have. But he doesn’t seem interested, so we are just friends instead. I think we’ve known each other too long.”

  Well, shit.

  Reign folded her arms. “Salvatore is off the table for me, so go for it. Mr. Fattelli is one of those men who can play the game. Sal doesn’t play games at all.”

  “Life isn’t a game, Reign. No one should know that more than you.” Giovanna drained her glass and stood, her scarlet dress swirling around her calves. “I gotta run. Thanks for lunch.”

  * * *

  Nick walked into the office at exactly four o’clock.

  That was by his Rolex, and the thing had damn better keep accurate time.

  “Have a seat.” Carl Denton was thin, balding, of indeterminate middle age, and this particular afternoon he wore a suit that cost more than most people pay for their car.

  “Mr. Denton.” He took the indicated chair and settled in. “Thanks for seeing me.”

  “No problem, but I have a board meeting in fifteen minutes.” Denton smiled like a shark, but that was appropriate; he was one.

  “You know who I am?”

  Denton said conversationally, “Yes, I do. Investment banking, correct?”

  Very funny. Denton knew he was a man of varied skills. “I’d like some information.”

  “I don’t ever—”

  “Oh yes you do. Though we haven’t met face to face, you once engaged my, shall we say, special talents. I always do my homework. Can we agree the job was done swiftly and discreetly and your messy little problem went away?” Nick kept his voice pleasant. For whatever reason, when he spoke in that reasonable tone, people got edgy. “I am sure everyone in the business knows I shot a man in Reign Grazi’s bedroom a few nights ago, and I know it was a hired hit that didn’t go as it was intended. My question is simple. We have a family thing going on here, or is this outside?”

  “What makes you think I know?”

  “I’m going to give you some advice.” Nick smiled but he didn’t mean it, and the man across from him understood that. “I’m pretty uninterested in playing games.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Oh God, no. If I was threatening you, you wouldn’t have to ask.” He raised his brows in inquiry. “So? The hit on Ms. Grazi?”

  “Her father has a lot of friends in high circles. That usually means a lot of enemies.”

  “You in bed with him?”

  “Her father?” Denton spread his hands. “We’ve some common business interests. It would be of no benefit to me to see his daughter out of the picture. As far as I know, she doesn’t participate in any of his ventures, except very indirectly.”

  “How so? I sniffed around a little and I found no evidence she participated at all.”

  “I believe she’s designed some pieces for a few boutiques he owns.”

  Ah, used for money laundering, no doubt. Assessing his sincerity, Nick inclined his head and stood. “The man I killed … any idea who he belongs to? The police can’t ID him.”

  “None, but I’ll ask a few questions if you’d like. He certainly took a shot at the wrong man. I wonder if he had any idea who you are.”

  “Oh, we’d met before. He knew. I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a call if you hear anything.”

  Denton’s face had an amused expression. “I’d ask why you are so interested but I’ve met the lovely Reign. I assume you were in her bedroom for a reason. Is that why you didn’t take the hit?”

  Nick said mildly, “See, that’s what I find so puzzling. How did you know I was approached in the first place?”

  He heard Denton give a low laugh as he walked out the door.

  It was almost impossible to park downtown on a Monday morning, so Nick had taken a cab, and now he hailed another one, wondering what to do next. Denton was a safe enough option. He gave the word “discreet” a whole new meaning, which was why he was so successful that he spent a great deal of time at his house in the Hamptons and vacationed in exotic places like Fiji and New Zealand. However, if Nick asked too many questions, especially in the wrong places, it would draw attention to the issue.

  So how to handle it?

  In his chosen profession, he was somewhat of a detective, which sounded incongruous given the purpose, but still held true. If he had a target, he needed to know—without anyone getting suspicious—everything he could about the subject. And he didn’t have the advantage of a badge and people being obligated to talk to him either, so his methods were backhanded at times, but he usually got the job done.

  * * *

  The church was gray stone, the cemetery encircled by an iron fence that had rust spots. There was lichen on some of the headstones and many of the names were barely legible. Even in the city it still seemed peaceful. Nick paid the driver and walked up the steps swiftly, instinctively doing the holy cross once he entered the vestibule. He even took the time to kneel in front of the altar before he backtracked to his brother’s office.

  The door was open and he knocked lightly on the doorframe. “Busy?”

  John was reading some document, but his gaze snapped up and his instant smile was genuine and nice to see. “Nick. Come on in.”

  There was no doubt they were brothers. Same dark wavy hair, same blue eyes, but John wore a white collar and dispensed counseling and salvation, and Nick dispensed something quite different.

  “Glad you’re alone.” Nick took a chair, which creaked ominously under his weight, and eyed the cluttered desk. “Looks like you’re busy.”

  “Always.”

  “Don’t give me the ‘work of God is never done’ speech or I’m out of here.”

  “We both know I don’t bother to state the obvious, and your redemption is pretty dubious anyway. I haven’t seen you in three months.” There was reproof in John’s voice. “I’ve left several messages and sent texts.”

  “Father, I have a confession, I’ve been busy. I’ve e-mailed about your financial portfolio.”

  “Funny.” The papers were set aside. John’s brows rose. “Doing?”

  “The usual. Drugs, sex, rock and roll.”

  “Yeah, I don’t believe the drugs, except you do like expensive bourbon. We both know you can’t sing, but the sex part I’ll buy.” His brother voice was dry. “A truthful answer isn’t necessary. Just a general overview is fine.”

  “I’ve been good. I visited Italy for a month. I just got back recently.”

  “Where?”

  “Everywhere. Mom was fine. She’s glad to be back in Sicily. I gained five pounds.”

  John laughed. “I’ll bet. I always do.” Then he sobered. “The visit? Necessity or vacation?”

  That was about as direct a question Nick ever received about what he did for a living. “A bit of both,” he answered evasively. “The world can be an unfriendly place now and then. Why is it the smell of being in
a church makes me feel ten years old?”

  “Come here more often and it might bring you into the present. I’m surprised the walls aren’t bleeding. I sense your visit has a purpose.”

  He actually went to mass every single Sunday, but he wasn’t about to reveal that bit of information. John was intuitive and would want to know why he didn’t come to this church, and Nick didn’t have a straightforward answer. He wasn’t uncomfortable with his brother’s vocation, he just didn’t quite understand it.

  “This has nothing to do with religion. You’re intelligent. I want to pick your brain a little.”

  “Intelligent? What a compliment. I should hope I am, but we do come from the same parents, so maybe I am just fooling myself.”

  Nick couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, you win that round. Let me rephrase. There are not a lot of people I feel I can discuss matters with confidentially, but you are one of them. Besides, your specialty is to give advice and I think I might need some.”

  “So you are visiting the priest, not the brother?”

  “I am visiting both, as it happens. People tend to think just because we bend the law now and then we aren’t family-oriented people, and that is the worst misconception on this planet. I trust you. I’d trust you with my life.”

  “Let’s hope that isn’t an issue, but I’d protect you as well.” John leaned back in his chair. “What is it?”

  How to answer that one? Nick took a minute. “How important is the truth if it frightens or hurts someone?”

  “Is this pertinent or a just philosophical debate?” John’s blue eyes were very direct.

  “Pertinent.” Nick thought about Reign. He said slowly, “I know someone in danger. I like this person, but explaining the situation might destroy our relationship.”

  “Relationship” might have been stretching it a little. One hot morning of wild sex was not a relationship.

  “You seem to care about ‘this person.’”

  He did. Inexplicably. After one encounter? Usually with his lovers he was pretty detached. On purpose, but still detached. Nick muttered, “I don’t want her hurt.”

  His brother, the priest, sat for a moment and seemed to reflect. “Her? So, a woman? What kind of danger is she in?”

 

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