Dangerous Kiss

by Michelle Love

“I had never seen anything like it. It was … a slaughterhouse. It froze me in my tracks, which gave him time to catch up with me. He was going to shoot me, too, but the gun ran out of ammo. He had a knife and he grabbed me, but that was when Emory came. She knocked him away from me and told me to run. But I was too scared. He stabbed her and she screamed at me and finally, I ran.”

  Hot tears started to drop down her cheeks as she remembered. “I left her there, Kizzie. I left her to die and she nearly did. I ran outside and passed out when the SWAT guy found me.”

  “Did your teacher die?”

  Bree shook her head. “That’s the thing—no, she didn’t. She was pretty badly hurt, but she made it. Fell in love with my dad.”

  Kizzie’s eyes opened wide. “I take it your parents are divorced?”

  Bree nodded. “My dad and Emory were made for each other. What they had was incredible, anyone could see that.”

  “Had?”

  Bree’s throat closed up. “Emory was murdered by her ex-husband six weeks ago. We still haven’t found her body.” And my dad celebrated by screwing my mom. But Bree didn’t say that to Kizzie, who was looking shocked.

  “Jesus.”

  Bree shook herself out of her funk and tried to smile at Kizzie. “I’m sorry about Lexi. She was a really nice girl—God, ‘nice’ is a bad word. She was sweet and fun and kind and everybody loved her. I know people always say that after someone dies but in Lexi’s case, it’s the truth.” She studied Kizzie now. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it, the resemblance, before, when I was mad at Jesse. I’m sorry; I was nutso that day.”

  Kizzie shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Lexi and I … well, we were as close as you can get but not very similar. She was the good one. I’m the one who screws things up.”

  Bree shook her head. “Now, come on, you’re a prodigy, right?”

  Kizzie grinned. “A prodigy who drinks, smokes, and fucks around. I was expelled, did you know that? From the Peabody?”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “I only told Jesse; guess he kept the secret. He’s a good boy. Sometimes,” she added hurriedly as Bree made a face.

  “Can we not talk about him, today, at least? I’m still sore over it.”

  Kizzie squeezed her hand. “Of course. How’s your dad doing? He must be heartbroken.”

  Bree felt tears prick her eyes. “I thought he was. He was. I know it for sure.” She was silent for a minute then she blurted it out, “I caught him and my mom in bed a few nights ago. I cannot believe he’d do that to Emory.”

  Kizzie said nothing for a time, then, “You’re mad at them?”

  Bree nodded and Kizzie sighed. “Yeah. I know how that feels. When Lexi died, it was as if my parents just shut down. Refused to acknowledge it. They just pretended she never existed. Jesse and me … well, we were to toe the party line or be ignored, too. We both reacted the same way—anger. Drinking and screwing around.” She gave Bree a smile. “Until he met you. Just because it came back to bite him in the ass, doesn’t mean … sorry, sorry.” She held up her hands as Bree started to protest.

  Bree couldn’t help giggling at the mischievous look on Kizzie’s face. She felt a surge of warmth; she liked this girl, she really did, regardless of anything Jesse had done. And yeah, she hated to admit it, but it made her feel less hurt about Jesse, too, maybe even sympathetic.

  Kizzie was watching her. “Look, I have a place out on Bainbridge Island … if you want to come over sometime and we can hang out, I’d like that. I have a guestroom, too, if you want to get away from everything. Stay as long as you want. I promise, it’ll be just you and me.”

  At that moment, Bree couldn’t think of anything more she’d like to do. “Yeah. Yeah thanks I’d like that.”

  Kizzie hugged her. “Good. I think we can help each other, but more importantly, we can have some fun. I think we’re both in dire need of that. Come this weekend and stay for a couple of days.”

  Bree promised she would and then they parted, Bree feeling more alive than she had in weeks. A new best friend. A new life. That’s what she needed. A new life.

  She drove home and tried to sneak into the house but Clem caught her and cornered her. “Bree, please. Talk to me. I’m sorry about what you saw, but it happened and I can’t change that. But we can’t go on like this.”

  Bree felt suddenly exhausted. “Mom … I’m not angry. Not with you. I know you and Maximo weren’t a couple. It’s Dad I’m furious with. Emory’s barely cold, Mom, and she saved me. Twice. It feels like such a betrayal.”

  Clem looked ashamed. “I know it must feel like that. But, honey, me and your dad, we were just comforting each other. It wasn’t really sex for sexual gratification.”

  “Eww, Mom,” but Bree relented a little. She hesitated, then pulled her mom into a hug. “Just give me time. I need time, is all.”

  Clem felt better after her talk with Bree, but she didn’t tell her daughter that Maximo had called. When she’d heard his voice on the phone, her stomach had disappeared, that soft Italian purr sending thrills through her body. I’m not over you. But Maximo, his voice hesitant, had merely asked how Bree was, how Luca was doing, how he was coping after the news of Emory’s blood being found. Clem had talked to him, her voice breaking occasionally, and then said goodbye. He had made no mention of them seeing each other and Clem was too embarrassed to suggest it. It was only after he’d gone that she realized what the time must be in Rome.

  One thing the call did remind her of—it had been a mistake sleeping with Luca. Neither of them were in love with the other; it would just complicate things. When she tried to call Luca, he didn’t answer and she made a promise to herself to talk to him before the next day was out. They all needed to move on, now.

  All of them.

  Maximo had ended the call, with mixed feelings. Talking to Clem had soothed him, but it had also brought up a fleet of new questions. She had told him that Luca was having trouble dealing with Emory’s death and Maximo knew exactly how the other man would be feeling now. Hopeless. Useless. Empty.

  Maximo had relived that terrible day, the day Ophelie died, over and over and over again …

  Ophelie looked tired, but her smile still made his heart soar. She got up from her vanity table and came to greet him. “Hey, I did not expect you until later, mon amour.”

  “Couldn’t stay away.”

  He kissed her, feeling her soft lips open as he touched them, felt her curvy, luscious body curve around his. She slid a hand down to his groin and smiled. “Is that all for me?”

  Maximo grinned and lifted her into his arms. The night was sultry but a cool breeze blew gently into her bedroom. Maximo carried her to the balcony of her house. In the distance, the city of Naples lay lit up, and the shadow of Vesuvius loomed back against the night sky.

  But Maximo only had eyes for the beautiful woman in his arms. Ophelie, for all her Parisian elegance, knew exactly how to seduce him, her long dark hair falling below her waist, her dark green eyes amused as they fixed on his. She slid from his lap and stood before him, pulling the straps of her gown from her shoulders and letting it slither to the ground.

  Maximo drew in a breath, his blood pumping, his cock responding to her. He pulled her toward him, his mouth seeking her breasts, sucking and teasing her nipples, his hand between her legs, feeling her getting wet for him. He heard her soft moan as he massaged her clit and buried his face in her soft belly, his tongue finding the deep hollow of her navel.

  “Maximo…” she whispered and the sound of her deep purr made him growl. He stood and pushed her back against the stone wall of her building, his hands rough now, so heated was his desire for her. Ophelie smiled as he dropped to his knees and sought her sex with his tongue, pushing her legs apart. He knew her body so well, by now, knew she was completely uninhibited with him.

  “Mon amour, I want your cock.”

  Chuckling, Maximo got to his feet and unzipped his pants, freeing his already diamond-hard cock. He li
fted Ophelie up and impaled her on his shaft, ramming his hips against hers. She gave a delicious moan as he fucked her, encouraging him with every gasp and moan. He fucked her against the wall, then carried her to their bed and fucked her again, making her scream with pleasure as he drilled his rock-hard, huge cock into her again and again. He came hard, groaning her name again and again until they were both exhausted and sated.

  Afterward, they lay facing each other, not saying anything for a while until Ophelie said, in a low, pain-filled voice, “He was following me again today.”

  Maximo cursed under his breath. This thing with Ferdie … it had been going on for months. At first, when Max had introduced Ophelie to his siblings, they had been welcoming and indeed, his sister Perdita and his father Alphonso adored her. But with Ferdie, after a few weeks Ophelie had kept running into him in the most unlikely places; when she was grocery shopping, or coming out of one of the classes she taught at the local college. Ferdie was always there. At first, neither Ophelie or Max thought anything of it—until the day Ferdie had told Ophelie he was in love with her. Shocked, Ophelie had gently turned him down—she was in love with Maximo and always had been. She was kind and respectful in her rejection, but Ferdie had not taken it well. When Ferdie had embarrassed Ophelie at a public occasion, Maximo had stepped in and the brothers had been at odds ever since.

  When Max had gone to his father, asking that their family security team be put on Ferdie, Alphonso had pooh-poohed the idea, telling Maximo he was overreacting and that he would have a word with Ferdie.

  Ferdie’s reaction had been terrifying. He had cornered Ophelie in her classroom after hours and although he had not explicitly threatened violence, Ophelie was in no doubt that he was capable. Maximo found her in floods of terrified tears and neither of them slept that night.

  Maximo bypassed his father and hired protection for Ophelie. He confronted Ferdie in front of some of Ferdie’s most important clients, determined to get the message across that his behavior was not acceptable.

  That had been five days ago. Ferdie had been humiliated and until now, he’d stayed away. But now, as Ophelie told him how she had seen him skulking around the college campus, Maximo’s heart hardened. “I promise,” he told her, “I will never let him hurt you.”

  It was a promise he was unable to keep. That night, they awoke to glass breaking downstairs. “Stay here,” Maximo told a wide-eyed and frightened Ophelie. Arming himself with a marble ornament, he went down stairs to investigate. He found the broken glass window and was confused. It wasn’t big enough for anyone to get through. It was only when he heard Ophelie scream that he realized what it was.

  A diversion. Oh, God no …

  He sprinted up the stairs, his heart beating furiously. “Ophelie!’

  “Maximo!’ She sounded utterly terrified. Then Maximo’s heart almost stopped when he heard her scream, “No! No, please!’

  He burst into their bedroom to see Ferdie as he threw Ophelie through the closed glass windows. The glass smashed and she fell to the balcony floor, gasping and bleeding.

  Maximo rushed Ferdie and the two men struggled, each clawing and punching with his whole weight. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ophelie trying to get up, covered in blood. It distracted him enough for Ferdie to strike him hard on the temple, stunning him. Maximo slumped to the floor, knowing he had to get up, now, had to save her, save his love, save his Ophelie …

  Ferdie kicked him viciously in the stomach and, completely winded, Maximo could only watch as his half-brother strode to the struggling woman on the balcony, saw him grab a large, lethal shard of glass and plunge it into her stomach.

  “No!’

  But Ferdie was merciless, stabbing Ophelie repeatedly until, at last, he let her drop to the ground. Ophelie gasped for breath, for life, as Maximo crawled toward her. Ferdie smirked down at the lovers before making his escape. Maximo gathered Ophelie into his arms.

  “Please, please, don’t leave me, my sweet, sweet love,” he begged her, but she touched his face once. Then her eyes closed forever. Maximo sobbed into the night until his anguished cries alerted the neighbors, who called the police. Maximo would not give up Ophelie’s body until Alphonso arrived, appalled.

  The whole story came out, Alphonso apologized to Maximo, but paid the police off and banished Ferdie to Zurich. Maximo cut all ties with his father.

  And Ophelie, his love, was gone.

  Maximo made it to the bathroom before he threw up. So much violence, he thought now. He had to get out of Italy, at least for a while. He could not be here for the anniversary of Ophelie’s murder; it would break him.

  Two hours later, he was being driven to the airport. He stared sightlessly out of the window. Haunted by Ophelie’s face, he closed his eyes. He knew two things he could do to distract himself. One was help Luca Saffran get through the loss of his love; Maximo nodded to himself. The other would be more difficult.

  Find Ferdie wherever he was in the world and kill him.

  Zea Azano had managed to ignore Jared all day as he sat in the diner, wearing a supercilious grin and exchanging fake niceties with the regulars. To her satisfaction, Zea knew something Jared didn’t. Every single one of the regulars knew Jared’s game and was playing along.

  When Flynt had suggested telling a few of the regulars, Zea had been horrified at first, but he’d talked her around.

  “Think about it, baby. Jared is counting on the fact you don’t want it to be known that you’re David Azano’s widow.”

  “Exactly,” she said, her face growing hot, her chest tightening with panic.

  “Don’t you see? We can use that. If we tell just a few regulars, and tell them what Jared’s doing and that you don’t want your cover blown, we can use his ignorance and arrogance to our advantage. He’ll try to get to you here; it’s the most accessible place for him. You’ll be surrounded by people, protected, so when we really try to push his buttons, and I mean, really push his buttons, when he goes off, we’ll control it.”

  Zea gazed at him, then at Teresa and Hannah. “What do you think?”

  “I’m with Flynt,” Teresa said and Hannah nodded.

  “Besides, Zea, think of the fun we’re going to have with this jackass.”

  So, she was convinced, but still she felt Jared’s presence like a seething, sinister thing, waiting to attack and destroy her. They’d been working up to it all week, already fucking with Jared’s brain. Zea came and went at different, strange times, like five after three p.m. or ten of seven a.m. And when Jared tried to follow her or cut her off as she left, someone would be there to stop him, whether it be Flynt, Teresa, Hannah or one of the regulars. He never got near her and they could tell it was getting to him. They were daring him and yet somehow, he didn’t follow through on his threat.

  Flynt was getting edgy. “We need something big, something to push him over the edge.”

  Zea agreed, but when Flynt came up with a plan—a failsafe plan, he said, grinning widely—Zea had been stunned. But when she thought about it, she’d started to laugh and agreed to go through with it.

  She saw Flynt’s car pull up to the front of the diner. As she saw him walk in through the door, greeting his friends there, her heart began to beat just a little faster. When he smiled at her, she was lost. Ignoring Jared, he opened the counter and walked in. He kissed her tenderly but passionately, and not just to annoy Jared.

  “You ready, baby?” he said softly, his gaze on hers, and she nodded, her cheeks flushing red.

  “You bet I am.”

  Flynt laughed. Both of them couldn’t resist a glance at the glowering Jared. “Got something to say, Podesta?”

  “It can wait.” Jared’s gaze was fixed on Zea and she felt a frisson of fear despite Flynt’s presence. Flynt gave him a cheesy grin and led Zea outside, opening the passenger door for her.

  When he got in beside her, he looked over at her. “Okay. Last chance to change your mind.”

  Zea leaned over and kisse
d him. ’No cold feet here.”

  Flynt grinned happily. “Then let’s do it.”

  Jared Podesta watched them with growing anger. The next moment, he was thrown into confusion as the people around him moved into action. Teresa, and that asshole Flynt’s sister, Hannah, came through with bags of decorations and began to turn the diner into some sort of tinsel nightmare. The other patrons seemed to be in on the secret, helping the women out. Jared was left in the middle of the melee as they decked the entire place in banners and balloons, glittering white and silver everywhere. When the two women strung the final banner across the counter, Jared finally understood. No. No way. No fucking way. He stood and Teresa and Hannah started to laugh at him.

  “Don’t fucking laugh at me, bitches,” he roared, and the place fell silent. Hannah gave him a wide-eyed innocent look.

  “So, I take it you don’t want to join the party? You don’t want to congratulate the happy couple?”

  Jared felt the rage boiling up inside him. “Bullshit. There’s no way they’re really getting married, so why don’t you just drop the act?”

  Hannah looked at Teresa. “Hey, is that true? Did my brother and Zea really not go to City Hall?”

  Teresa, enjoying the joke. “No, no…” She looked straight at Jared. “They really did. How about we all get ready to say congratulations to the newlyweds?”

  Jared lost it. He lunged at Hannah, who was closest, and who deftly sideswiped him, kicking out the back of his knee so he went sprawling. Two of the guys from the diner picking him up and threw him out of the door. Both Hannah and Teresa came to the door as he scrambled to his feet and as he turned, they both gave him the finger.

  Fucking, fucking bitches. Jared, humiliated and raging, stamped off to his car. One thing he knew for sure; Zea would never make it down the aisle, or to the courtroom, not if he had anything to do with it. His gun was in his glovebox and he fumbled to get it out now.

  As he drove, he calmed himself, starting to think about what this all had led to, how he had gotten to this place.