She had worked the problem in her head for hours; Nico’s accusations, the invasion at his headquarters when her father’s men had been willing to let her die, her father’s unwillingness to give Nico what he wanted in exchange for her safe return. Nothing added up the way it should, and there was only one person who had the answers.
She wanted to believe her father would come if she called, but she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Except Nico. Strangely, he had become the one certainty in her life. If he said her father had killed her parents, it was either true, or the evidence was so compelling that Nico had every right to think it was true. Either way, she had to know. Nico hoped Raneiro would lead them to Carlo. If he had been right, it meant that Nico was the fastest way to the answers she needed. And probably the safest, for her and for David.
She stepped into the lobby of the hotel, ignoring the glances of passersby as she dripped water on her way to the elevator. She was getting ready to press the Up arrow when she realized she didn’t have an elevator key to the suite.
She backtracked to the front desk and asked an elegant man with an aquiline nose to ring Nico’s room and let him know she was there. He spoke quickly and quietly into the phone, then instructed an older man at the concierge desk to take her upstairs.
She emerged from the elevator into the hushed atmosphere of the suite. Nico sat on the sofa, his eyes full of anguish, while Luca glared daggers at her from across the room. The silence seemed to magnify as the elevator dinged shut behind her.
“I’m going to my room,” Luca said.
A few seconds later, she heard the door close to the second bedroom.
Nico had dropped his head into his hands, shielding his eyes from her. There was something so defeated in the posture, something so unlike him, that she was overcome with regret.
She set her bag on the table by the elevator and crossed the room, stopping when she was directly in front of him. She pushed her hands through his hair, pressing his head into her stomach. They stayed that way for a long moment before Nico looked up at her, his gaze fierce.
“You came back,” he said.
“I came back.”
His hands ran up the back of her legs to her waist. He lifted her wet shirt, leaving a chaste kiss on the cold, damp skin of her stomach. The touch of his lips, hot and electric, sparked a fuse inside her, sending a stream of fire between her legs.
He stood, lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the bedroom. He held her eyes as he lowered her to her feet, then proceeded to strip off her shirt. She shivered in her bra, damp from the rain.
“You’re cold,” he said, stripping off his own shirt and wrapping his arms around her.
She sank into his imposing warmth, letting him envelop her, blocking out everything but the heat between them. She belonged with him. She knew that now.
He looked down at her, tracing her jaw with his thumb. When he spoke, his voice was husky. Was it desire or emotion? It didn’t matter.
“All this time, I thought I had nothing left to lose.”
“We both have something to lose now,” she said softly.
He held her face in his hands, his thumbs touching the corners of her mouth as he slanted his lips over hers. She opened to him without hesitation, desire and familiarity and something too close to love to be called anything else winding itself through her body as he slipped his tongue in her mouth. She welcomed him, meeting the stroke of his tongue with her own, twining her fingers in his hair, pulling him so close she didn’t know where he ended and she began.
“Angel…” He pulled back to look at her. “My Angel.”
She ran her hands down the sculpted ridge of his chest to the bands of muscle that narrowed into the waist of his jeans. She undid the button and slipped her hand inside, holding her palm against the silken skin of his erection.
“I just want you to fuck me now, Nico.”
His eyes seemed to flare; the panther in the moment before it grabbed hold of its prey. He unhooked her bra as he claimed her mouth all over again, backing her onto the bed. He peeled off her wet jeans, then shed his pants. She sucked in her breath at the beauty of his rigid cock. He could have been a Roman god, and her body responded with a rush of wetness to her sex.
She lifted a hand. He took it, and she pulled him onto the bed, letting him cover her body with his own. The feel of him, heavy and hard, between her legs was almost more than she could bear, and she lifted her hips, feeling like she would die if he didn’t enter her.
“Not yet,” he said. “I’m going to remind you who owns you.”
He lowered his head to one breast, closing his mouth around the nipple and sucking while his other hand gently thumbed the other one.
“Nico…” She arched her back, wanting to disappear into the heat of his mouth.
He pulled back, licking and nipping until she was writhing for him. He moved down her body, trailing kisses across her stomach, dipping his tongue into the well of her belly button until she gasped with the pleasure of it.
She was soaked by the time he worked his way over the the mound between her legs. He nibbled at the virgin skin on the inside of her thighs, running his tongue toward her center, stopping just before he got there.
“Please…” she moaned.
“Please what?” he asked, kissing the fold at the top of her thigh.
“I want to feel your mouth on me.” She was lost to her desire, no trace of shame or inhibition left. She wanted him to occupy every inch of her.
He spread her legs and blew softly. “You’re so beautiful, baby. Your pussy is so beautiful.”
She felt his tongue along the folds of her sex, and he slid his fingers inside her while he closed his mouth around her clit. She clutched at the sheets as she lifted her hips off the bed, meeting his mouth, feeling around the edges of the explosion brewing in her body.
She lowered her hands to his head, and he moved his fingers while he teased the tiny bud with his tongue. She gasped, half out of her mind with desire as she climbed the mountain to her orgasm.
He flicked his tongue lightly over her, then locked his mouth on her and sucked, repeating the motion until her climax became a forgone conclusion. She wanted to draw it out, to keep his mouth on her forever, but her body had a mind of its own, and she felt herself teeter on the precipice of release as she tried to hold on.
“I’m going to come, Nico,” she said.
“That’s right,” he said. “Come for me, baby. I want to taste you.”
The words sent her over the edge, and she rode the waves of her orgasm as he buried his face in her, covering her with his mouth while his fingers coaxed every last spasm from her body.
She shuddered, sensitive to his touch, but then he kissed his way up her body and captured her mouth in his. She could taste the sex on his tongue, feel the pressure of him between her legs, and she was suddenly and inexplicably ready for him again.
She reached for him, positioning him at her opening, and was relieved to realize he’d already put on a condom. She wasn’t sure she could have waited. He pushed into her the slightest bit, and she gasped, arching toward him, wanting to pull him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him.
“Mine,” he said gruffly, looking into her eyes.
“Yours.”
He plunged into her, and she cried out, wrapping her legs around his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust as she lifted her arms to hold onto the headboard, wanting him to have access to the deepest recesses of her body.
“Fuck, Angel,” he said. “You’re so wet. So tight.”
“It’s for you,” she gasped. “All for you.”
He pumped into her faster, driving himself toward his own release while she climbed again with him. He reached down, drawing one of her legs over his shoulder while he drove into her. The new angle opened her further, and she gasped as his body rubbed against her clit in time with his thrusts. She met him at the top, both of them balanced on the razor’s edge in the split second before
they spilled over it. He let out something like a growl, and she kept moving, milking him while he throbbed inside her.
When it was over, he covered her face with kisses and brushed her damp hair back from her face.
“I love you, Angel. I’ve never loved anyone until I saw you.”
She took his face in her hands, stilling his movements. “I love you, too.”
She didn’t know what it meant. Didn’t know if there was a future for them.
But she knew it was true.
40
They arrived in London around noon the next day. This time they were met by a hired car, and Angel couldn’t help wondering who handled the details of Nico’s life so seamlessly.
They made their way into the city under gloomy skies. Nico held her hand as if he were afraid she might disappear. Something had changed between them. She’d had a chance to leave and had come back to him. Now she had resigned herself to her feelings, and his presence suddenly seemed more protective than oppressive. The same couldn’t be said of Luca, who hadn’t said more than two words to her since they’d left Rome.
They exited the car in front of a flat near St. James park. Luca carried their suitcases, procured sometime while they’d been in Rome, up the stairs, then disappeared into one of the back bedrooms.
“I need to talk to him,” Angel said, when Nico took her in his arms.
He kissed her gently on the mouth. “He’ll come around.”
“He’s always been good to me, and I put him in a bad position by leaving like I did.”
“His pride is wounded,” Nico said. “You gave him the slip.”
“I guess I did.”
“Did you really tell him you wanted privacy?” he asked, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile.
She grinned. “I did, but not because I was planning to ditch him. That was spontaneous.”
“Well, good thing you had most of your shopping done by then,” Nico said. “We’re going out tonight. You’ll need a dress.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“We’re going to Farrell Black’s night club.”
“Farrell Black?”
He nodded. “He runs the London division of the Syndicate. Raneiro says he has information about your father.”
The thought caused a knot of anxiety to form in her stomach. But this is why they were here. It was time to see it through. She couldn’t hide behind her naivety forever. Whatever she found out about her father’s role in the death of Nico’s parents, he was not the man she believed him to be. The newspaper articles had made that clear, and her father’s unwillingness to meet Nico’s demands in order to insure her safety only crystallized the picture they painted. She had been living in a fantasy world. It had been okay when she didn’t know better, but she could no longer justify her obliviousness.
“I wouldn’t normally take you,” he continued. “But I need Luca, and I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“I’ll be ready,” she said.
He held her tight, looking down at her and kissing her again, lingering over her lips. “You should rest. It might be a long night.”
“If you stay, I won’t rest,” she said, her body already quickening at the thought of him inside her.
“Don’t tempt me.” He kissed her forehead and took a step away from her. “I’m going to make some calls, make sure everything’s okay back in New York. Do you need anything?”
She shook her head. “I’m good.”
He closed the door behind him, and she walked to the window and looked out over London. She could make out the roof of Buckingham Palace, and beyond it, the spires of Westminster Cathedral and the muddy water of the Thames. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to wander the city arm in arm with Nico, laughing and talking and collapsing into bed at the end of the day. Instead, the meeting with Farrell Black and the truth about her father loomed in front of them like a death march.
A blanket of exhaustion dropped over her, and she closed the curtains and pulled off her shoes, then stripped and crawled beneath the pristine white covers of the bed in the master bedroom. She sank into the pillow with a sigh and closed her eyes.
It was dark out when Nico’s voice pulled her from the blackness. “Time to wake up, Angel.”
She let her eyes adjust to the darkness in the room. “What time is it?”
“Just after nine,” he said. “I’ve ordered some food. I thought you might like to eat before you get dressed.”
Her stomach grumbled at the mention of food. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “That sounds good,” she said. “I’m starving.”
He bent to kiss her. “Good. Eat then. The food’s in the kitchen. I’m going to shower.”
She was tempted to join him, but another growl of her stomach made it clear that her priorities were out of whack. She threw on her clothes and found Luca sitting at a modern dining table covered with food.
She took a seat on one of the upholstered chairs. “What’s all this?”
“Indian,” he said, not looking up from the tattered book in his hand.
“What are you reading?”
“Utopia.”
“A little light reading, huh?”
He didn’t say anything, and she put down the spoon she was using to serve herself tandoori chicken and looked at him.
“Luca.”
He didn’t look up.
“Luca,” she said more forcefully. “Come on.”
He raised his gaze to hers. His blue eyes were icy. “What?”
“I’m sorry, okay?” She hesitated. “You can’t be mad.”
“I can’t?”
“No. You guys have been holding me hostage for over two weeks. Didn’t you think I might want to go home at some point?”
“I was responsible for you.”
“I know,” she said. “And I’m sorry if I got you in trouble.” She smiled. “At least I came back.”
“Why did you?” he asked.
She rubbed the corner of a cloth napkin between her fingers. “I love him, among other things,” she said softly.
“Good.”
She looked up and was relieved to see the kindness had returned to his eyes. “Good?”
He nodded. “Are you here to stay?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I think… well, I think we have to see what happens with my father. It’s… complicated.”
Gray, she thought. Not black and white. So very gray. All of it.
“Don’t leave again,” he said. “Not like that. He was crazy with worry.”
Something in her heart twisted at the knowledge. “Deal.”
They finished dinner in companionable silence, then Angel went to change. She chose a slinky black dress by Tom Ford. It had long sleeves, but with a hemline that brushed her upper thighs and slits cut into fabric at her shoulders and arms, it was anything but dowdy. She slipped on a thin black thong, skipping a bra in a nod to the the back of the dress, which dipped low enough to brush the top of her ass. She finished it with a pair of gold Gucci heels, then wrapped her hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She kept her face bare, with only dark, smokey eyeliner, several coats of mascara, and a careful swipe of red lipstick. She was admiring her reflection in the mirror, reveling in the way the silk dress skimmed her bare body, hinting at what was underneath rather than making it obvious, when Nico’s arms slid around her waist. He met her eyes in the mirror.
“You’re the most exquisite woman I’ve ever seen.”
She turned in his arms, taking in the tailored slacks that hugged his strong thighs. His eyes seemed lighter than usual, the amber standing out against the fitted, midnight blue button-down stretching across his shoulders and back.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said softly.
He ran his hands down her back to her thighs, then slipped them inside the dress to cup her ass. It was like lighting a stick of dynamite attached to her core, and she felt herself grow wet as he he pulled her agains
t the rigid length of him.
“This was a bad idea,” he murmured, looking into her eyes.
“What was?” she asked, breathless.
“Coming to check on you.”
She let her hand travel down the iron plane of his stomach and pressed the flat of her palm against his erection. “I’m glad you did.”
He groaned and stepped away, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “We have to get out of here,” he said. “Now.”
She smiled. “If you say so.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re a wicked little thing.”
She headed into the hall, casting a glance at him over her shoulder. “Maybe.”
“You’re killing me, Angel.” His voice followed her into the hall, and she couldn’t help laughing a little. For once, they were just like everyone else, and she realized this is what it would be like to be with Nico without all the bullshit between them.
Hot. Sexy. And yes, fun.
Would they get there? She hoped so. She really, really hoped so.
A car was waiting out front, and they made their way through town with the London eye lit up and looming in the rear window. Luca looked sharp in a fitted suit. His dark hair was combed back, highlighting the angular lines of his face. He was a good-looking man, every bit as handsome as Nico in a different way. She wondered idly if he had a woman in his life.
They finally stopped in a seedy area that stood in stark contrast to the sanitized cleanliness of the parts of the city meant for tourists. Nico slid out of the car and took her hand. Luca followed, and Angel didn’t think it was her imagination that the atmosphere had gotten significantly more tense.
“Stay by my side,” Nico said. “Unless I tell you otherwise.”
Ruthless: Mob Boss Book One Page 20