“Vic works on Wall Street,” I answered in a neutral tone.
“We also belong to the same country club,” Victor added, emphasizing the last word. I wanted to knock his fucking teeth out.
“Oh, I see,” Krystina said easily, but I heard the realization in her tone. “I don’t frequent the country club, Mr. Carr.”
“You should,” Vic taunted.
The hand that was resting on Krystina’s hip flexed. She never flinched, but covered my hand with hers instead. When she spoke again, her voice was sugary sweet, practically dripping.
“That place is a bit over the top for me and not really my style, if you know what I mean. Besides, Alex and I have been so busy since our engagement that there isn’t time for frivolities such as the club. Isn’t that right, dear?”
She looked up at me and smiled lovingly.
I blinked and was momentarily confused by her uncharacteristic swooning. It was then I realized that Krystina was making a point. She was telling Victor, in not so many words, that she was not a club member. She was also saying that she was committed to me and me alone. She saw through his game and was able to change the dangerous topic of conversation before I could even blink. I had forgotten how much she relied on her naturally quick wit. It was her secret weapon, one that I was always trying to stamp out of her.
I don’t know how it happened, but at some point during the exchange, I found myself looking at Krystina with new eyes. For months, I had been fighting to dominate her both in and out of the bedroom. She was both my heaven and my hell, all wrapped up in one succulent package. However, I now had the realization that I didn’t need to fight that feisty nature anymore. I knew that behind closed doors, when she was naked in our bed, I would always demand her submission and was certain she would irrevocably give it. I owned her body and she would forever be mine to command.
But it needed to end there.
My attempt to dominate her outside the bedroom was wrong. It would kill her spirit and I wanted her to be true to herself. I loved this fiery woman beside me – quick tongue and all. To see her use that defensive weapon on someone else gave me an unexpected feeling of satisfaction.
My firecracker. My angel. And soon to be my wife.
In that moment, although I didn’t think it was possible, I loved her even more.
“Yes, our engagement has kept us very busy,” I agreed. I winked and smiled down at her. In a possessive move, I pulled her closer to me, silently sending my own private message to Victor.
“Engaged? I – I hadn’t realized,” he stammered. “I guess congratulations are in order.”
A waiter walked by carrying a tray of champagne flutes. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. I grabbed two. I handed one to Krystina and kept one for myself, deliberately leaving Victor empty handed.
“A toast,” I began and looked to Krystina. “To us.”
“To us,” she repeated.
12
krystina
“I’m assuming that guy wasn’t talking about a country club,” I whispered to Alexander as we made our way to the dinner table.
“No, angel. He wasn’t.”
I looked around and wondered how many other restaurant guests were club members. The world I had once considered exclusive to a small portion of the population was obviously more common than I thought. I shivered as I recalled the way Victor eyed me up and down.
“Ugh, he just gave me the creeps.”
“Yes, he has that effect on people,” Alexander agreed with a hint of venom in his voice. “I often wondered how he became so successful. His personality leaves much to be desired.”
When we reached the table, Luca was waiting for us with a bottle of wine in hand and a linen table napkin draped over one arm. Alexander removed his arm from around my waist so that I could slide into the booth that had been prepared for us. His hand lingered for a moment, tracing over the line of my hip, before he moved to sit beside me. Once we were settled, Luca held out a bottle of red for Alexander to inspect.
“Tonight’s main course will be Barley Risotto with Mushrooms and Gremolata. Mr. Donati has chosen to pair it with a 2006 Villa Gemma Montepulciano d'Abruzzo Riserva.”
The words rolled off his tongue with ease, although I didn’t comprehend much more than barley, risotto, and mushrooms. I was reminded of how out of my element I could feel in Alexander’s world sometimes. While I was getting used to it, I would never lose my appreciation for Thai takeout and cheap white wine. Conversely, Alexander seemed to know exactly what Luca said and nodded his approval. After removing the cork, Luca poured a small amount of red wine into a stemmed glass for Alexander to sample.
“Exceptional vintage,” Alexander said with appreciation. He swirled the glass and took another sip before handing the empty glass to Luca.
After Luca poured the deep maroon liquid into two glasses, another server seemed to materialize out of thin air to place a basket of fresh bread and olive oil at our table. Steam wafted from the basket and provoked a rumble from my stomach. During cocktail hour, the only thing I managed to consume was a pancetta wrapped fig. While it was delicious, it was hardly enough to curb my appetite.
Once Luca and the other server were gone, I went to reach for the bread but Alexander beat me to it. Tearing off a piece of the loaf, he dipped it into a small bit of oil and brought it to my mouth. Accepting his offer, I opened my lips for him.
“You’re beautiful. So enticing and radiant,” he murmured.
I blushed at his compliment, never one to accept them graciously, as I moved my mouth around the warm and flakey crust. Swallowing the bread, I reached for my wine. However, Alexander caught my wrist and stopped me. As he had with the bread, he brought the glass to my lips. Feeling awkward over such a public display of intimacy, I gently pulled my wrist free and took the glass from his hand. I took a sip and met his gaze. His eyes were intense as always, but there was something more in them that I couldn’t quite place.
“Matteo has really outdone himself. The wait staff he hired –,” I began. I stopped short when I saw the way Alexander’s eyes flashed hot. Smoldering almost. Baffled, I asked, “What is it?”
“I’ve asked once, but now I’m going to ask you again. Are you trying to give me a hard on in public?”
“What in the world are you talking about? I haven’t done anything,” I laughed.
“Angel, you’re not wearing any panties.”
My eyes widened in surprise.
How could he possibly know that?
But then I remembered the way his hand lingered on my hip right before we sat down at the table. I was fairly confident that was the moment he discovered the absence of my usual lace undergarment.
“Look, I didn’t do it to be kinky,” I tried to explain. “It’s just that the dress is somewhat fitted through the hips and you could see my underwear and stocking lines through it. That’s all.”
“No stockings either?”
“Well, er –,” I faltered. “I have on thigh highs.”
His eyes burned even darker. I was familiar with that expression of burning hunger. I knew it all too well. Alexander was undeniably aroused. That knowledge caused a sudden tightening in my core and I squirmed a bit in my chair. To my astonishment, I felt his hand move up the side of my calf, over my knee and to my thigh. He squeezed, biting into the skin of my leg.
“No panties and not following my instructions. I did warn you that there would be punishment if you were gone for too long,” he reminded me. His voice reverberated through the hum of conversation and the gravely Louis Armstrong lyrics that piped through the overhead speakers.
“I wasn’t gone that long,” I practically squeaked.
I tried to move away, but he gripped tighter and rendered me immobile. My pulse quickened as his hand traveled up further. My breath caught in my throat.
“Angel, any amount of time you’re away from me is too long,” he said in a guttural tone.
I looked around the roo
m. People were everywhere, conversing and eating, completely unaware of what was happening at the booth in the corner. To the casual observer, we were just two people enjoying dinner together. At least I hoped. I silently prayed that the tablecloth was long enough to hide Alexander’s roaming hand.
Inch by inch, his fingers crawled. For some ludicrous reason, the Itsy-Bitsy Spider song began to play in my head. As Alexander got closer to the mark, I began to feel slightly panicked. I glanced around the room again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. All I saw were normal people enjoying a normal dinner. Except for our table. Nothing about this was normal.
“Alex,” I hissed. “People might see!”
“So what?” he replied to my horror. His voice was deep and husky, challenging me to deny him. When his fingers finally made contact with my sex, I sharply sucked in a gulp of air. My nipples tightened as he slid expertly over my folds until he found a slick bundle of nerves. The fear of being caught was appalling, yet so incredibly erotic at the same time.
He swiped up. Once. Twice. I stifled a moan as I tried to, once again, recall the length of the tablecloth.
It’s long enough to hide. Isn’t it?
It had to be. I was coming apart at the seams. It was all I could do to keep it together. The only thing stopping me from giving in was the fact that Luca was approaching our table. I clamped my legs closed tightly, but my plan to make Alexander stop backfired. I only succeeded in locking his fingers in place.
“Alex,” I breathed. “You have to stop. Luca is headed this way.”
A knowing smile curled up the edge of his lips and his sapphire blues flashed hot.
“Oh, no. This is your punishment, Miss Cole.”
My eyes widened from utter disbelief as I stared at him.
He couldn’t possibly…
My little devil friend twirled with glee as the angel erupted into flames. Luca was getting closer and closer, his arms laden with a tray or something or another. Probably food. I didn’t really care what it was. Alexander had to stop this madness. At the sound of Luca’s voice, my head snapped to attention. I was sure my cheeks were flushed, but I put on the most innocent smile I could muster.
“May I present the first course of the evening. Artichoke Parmesan Crostini and marinated olives. I see you are enjoying the bread and bagna cauda. Can I get you anything else?”
Bagna what?
I couldn’t process Luca’s words. Alexander’s woodsy cologne combined with his wandering fingers clouded my thinking. I grabbed my wine and took a sip in order to avoid speaking. The wine warmed my throat as it went down. I had barely swallowed when Alexander pushed a finger inside, twirling and teasing around my clenched entrance. I wanted to grind shamelessly into his hand, but I couldn’t. We were in a restaurant. Luca was only a mere few feet away. However, none of that mattered to Alexander. He was intentionally driving me to the point of madness.
“I’m all set for now. Everything looks delicious,” Alexander told Luca. “Krystina? How about you? Do you need anything?”
I was thankful that I already swallowed my wine. If I hadn’t, I might have spit it out all over the table right then and there. I looked to Luca who was patiently awaiting my response. I tried not to think about the fingers that were still probing my sensitive tissues.
“I’m good,” I told him, my voice sounding strained to my own ears. The warm trail that began with the wine was now ablaze with flames brought on by Alexander’s merciless exploration.
“Very good then. I’ll be back to check on you momentarily,” Luca responded with a slight bow before leaving our table once more. He seemed completely unaware of my suffering, yet how I managed to get through that was beyond me. Air expelled from my lungs in a whoosh and I started to tremble.
“My, my. That was an Academy Award winning performance, Miss Cole. I’m impressed.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” I hissed, struggling to maintain control.
Heat pulsed through the blood in my veins as he continued to stroke. Regardless of our setting, Alexander always knew how to get me off. My orgasm was building. I could feel it. I wanted nothing more than to spread my legs wider and grant him full access. I was so close, desperate to feel the incredible height that only Alexander could bring me to.
However, I was intensely aware of the people around us. I would need to deliver more than an Academy Award performance if I wanted to conceal the pleasure that was seconds away from tearing through my body. My gaze met his. His stare was intense as he continued to massage my clit with rapid circles. I couldn’t look at him. Instead, I closed my eyes and tried to be still, as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.
My core had just begun to deliciously tighten, when all at once the incredible release I craved was viciously snatched away. I opened my eyes in shock and looked at Alexander. His hand was no longer under the table, but reaching to sample the crostini. I stared in awe as he casually took a bite, chewed, and then slowly licked his fingers clean.
“My favorite,” he said and eyed me seductively. I knew he wasn’t referring to the food.
He’s toying with me.
Just fifteen minutes earlier, I was aghast at the idea of doing anything sexual in the middle of a crowded restaurant. However, in the blink of an eye, Alexander had me throwing caution to the wind, helpless under his magic. Now here I sat, about to combust from overwhelming sexual frustration.
A wicked smile wrapped around the finger he sucked, making me suspicious of the casual way he slid each finger between his lips. I knew then that this was not a game.
“You aren’t going to let me finish, are you?” I whispered incredulously.
“Only I say when, angel.”
My scowl turned into a full-blown pout. This was, without a doubt, the worst punishment he had ever doled out. It was nothing short of torture. I picked up my wine and threw back a huge gulp. Flustered by my desire and newfound irritation, I channeled my emotion into the food by adding a few olives to my plate. This was going to be the longest dinner of my life.
13
alexander
Krystina and I exited the restaurant and made our way across the sidewalk to the awaiting limousine. The hired driver held open the door for us as we approached. I guided Krystina inside, before glancing over my shoulder to see Hale just a few feet behind us. Before he had the chance to climb into the front passenger seat of the limo, I motioned him over to me.
“Any word from Justine?” I asked quietly.
“No, sir. I can go to her condo if you’d like,” Hale offered. There was sadness in the eyes of my security detail. It was an emotion that was uncharacteristic and somewhat alarming. Given the situation, I should have asked him what he knew about Charlie’s story. But, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to form the words. Just as I was stalling a more fervent attempt to find Justine. Something didn’t feel right in my gut, compelling me to proceed with caution.
“Just wait. I’ll give her another couple of days and then go there myself.”
“Yes, sir.”
I turned back to the limo and climbed inside beside Krystina. Once the driver closed the door, she slid over next to me and rested her head against my arm.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
I moved to wrap my arm around her, brought her head to my chest, and traced small circles on her shoulder with the tip of my finger.
“Everything is fine. I think the night was a huge success. The food critics loved the place. Matteo has a lot to look forward to.”
“I didn’t mean about the restaurant,” she said, her words barely above a whisper.
I knew that, but I was hoping she didn’t want to revisit the conversation we had before the party, despite my promise to answer her questions. The problem loomed over us all night. And while it never reared its ugly head, it was always lurking in the shadows.
“Justine hasn’t answered any of my calls. She hasn’t gotten back to Hale either. I’m concerned.”
“Why Stone?” she asked.
“Stone?”
“Yes. Why did you choose that?”
I looked up ahead. The limo had begun to move, merging into the late evening traffic. Hale gave me a sideways glance, alerting me to the fact that we could be heard. Leaning forward, I pressed the button that would raise the privacy glass. I didn’t mind if Hale heard our conversation, as he was one of the very few who knew the history of my name. However, the limousine driver was out of the question. I knew the story would most likely come out soon, but I needed to hang on to my identity for just a little while longer.
Once the privacy glass was all the way up, I tilted my head to look down at Krystina.
“My grandfather’s name was Edward Stonewall. He was a European football player, or soccer player, as people in the United States call it. He played for Sheffield in the late nineteen forties, after the Second World War. He was a good defender, very good if the recounts I’ve read are correct, until he got injured. Leaving the sport was difficult for him. Fortunately, he had a young Italian wife to pick up the pieces,” I paused and took a moment to reminisce. I looked out the window at the passing buildings. The nightlights briefly illuminated them and created a mesmerizing strobe-like effect. “Lucille Silvestri, my grandmother, was a force to be reckoned with. She took the money he earned and moved them both to the United States. She said they needed a fresh start.”
“You said Stonewall. Did he shorten the name?”
“Yes and no. Everyone called him Stone, but it wasn’t his legal name and it was not one that he used. He didn’t start using it until,” I stopped momentarily and shook my head, not wanting to remember. “He didn’t start using the name until Justine and I started having a hard time in school. Everyone knew about the Russo kids, their dead father, and missing mother. We couldn’t escape it.”
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