KYLE: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 4)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “And I was here alone?”

  “Yes.” I glanced at him. He wasn’t eating, just watching me tuck into those pancakes. I licked a little syrup from my fingers and set down my fork, glancing longingly at the sweet rolls. “You were here, dressed in those jeans and that shirt, waiting with a glass of wine your hand.”

  “I let you in?”

  “Mickey did. He was just leaving as I arrived.”

  “Why was Mickey here?”

  “Don’t know.” I took the chance and grabbed a sweet roll, loving the soft texture as I bit into it. “He didn’t really say.”

  “Then what?”

  I took another bite, then answered him as politely as I could with the sweet roll in my mouth. “You poured me a glass of wine and invited me to join you for dinner. We talked a little as we ate, but it was a little awkward at first. Then you invited me to the couch and we warmed up to each other.”

  “Warmed up how?”

  I took another bite of the roll, realizing that I was coming to a point where I had to tread carefully. “You asked me about my life. I asked you about your life. We realized that we had a few things in common, so we spent time talking about those things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the movies we like to watch and the music we listen to.” I set my roll down and licked my fingers, aware of how closely he was watching me. “You like Green Day and the Stones. I like Twenty-one Pilots and Shawn Mendes. You teased me, and I teased you, but then you made me confess that I love Wake Me Up When Septembers Ends.”

  A little light danced in his eyes when I said that. He leaned forward, reaching for a piece of bacon even as he watched me.

  “How did we end up at the chapel?”

  I blushed. It was easy because the memory was real.

  “You started kissing me. We sort of made out on the couch…” I gestured behind me in the vague direction of the couch. “You were getting a little fresh, and I asked you to stop. That’s when you suggested if we were married, I wouldn’t ask you to stop.”

  “It was my idea?”

  I nodded, the lie easier when I didn’t have to put it into words.

  “And you agreed?”

  “I told you things about me, personal things I’d rather not repeat, and you promised to fix them for me.”

  “Did I?”

  I looked up, the sweet roll suddenly this heavy, thick lump in my stomach. I hated lying. I prided myself on my honesty. I’d lost friends because I’m completely honest about everything. But I had to lie.

  “We drank a lot. I drank a lot. I told you things I’ve never told anyone and you…” I stopped, tears creating a new lump in my throat. “I know you don’t remember any of this. I can just go and we can—”

  “What? If you won’t divorce me, what options are there?”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”

  Tears began spilling down my cheeks. I reached up and rubbed them away, feeling suddenly as though I’d been stripped naked and placed on display. I wanted out of there; I wanted to call this whole thing a mistake. I knew it wouldn’t work; I knew that I couldn’t convince him that he wanted me. We’d known each other all of…what? Five minutes? It was ridiculous to believe that I was enough to convince him to play this game.

  But then he was out of the chair and crossing toward me, his hand resting heavy on my shoulder.

  “Don’t cry.”

  I brushed the tears away again.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything like this before…I never imagined I ever would. The only reason I came up here last night was because you were so nice to me when I took you those drinks at the blackjack table. Most guys are condescending or they touch me in unwelcome ways. But you…you were kind compared to all of them.”

  He knelt beside me, taking my hand gently between both of his. “My Pops taught me a lot of things, but the most important was to be kind to a woman.” He smiled softly. “I always tried to remember his advice, even when a heartbroken woman is throwing things at me from across the room, something that’s happened on more than one occasion.”

  I smiled, finding it very easy to imagine such a thing.

  “Look, this clearly isn’t all your fault,” he said, brushing a few more tears from my cheek. “Surely we can find a way to work it out so that we both benefit.”

  I shook my head emphatically. “No. I don’t want to take anything from you. I just…my father would have a stroke if he knew what I’d done.”

  “Mine, too.”

  He suddenly stood and began to pace the room.

  “What about an annulment?”

  “If it’s done by a priest…”

  “I could do that.” He turned to look at me. “But I’d need you to promise that no word of this would get out. You can’t tell anyone, not your father, not your friends. No one.”

  I looked down, let my hair fall over my face so he couldn’t see my expression.

  “It’s not like I’m proud of this.”

  “It’s just…my dad has had some unpleasantness happen over the last few months. It really wouldn’t help him much if this got out, you know?”

  I brushed my hair back, taking a peek at him.

  “I know about your dad’s arrest. But the charges were dropped, right?”

  “Yeah, well, that sort of thing sticks with you when you’re CEO of a major conglomerate and you’ve been arrested for mafia-style activities. My brother is brilliant, spinning the tale enough so that people are a little confused as to what really happened, but even he can’t save my father’s reputation completely. If word got out that his card shark son got married and divorced in a matter of hours, it won’t help much.”

  “I won’t tell anyone, but…” I let my words fall hard between us, again feeling the lump of that sweet roll in my stomach. I’d thought he was a womanizer, a real ass, when I came up here last night. The rumors I’d heard about him seemed to support that. But now that I was getting to know him, I was wondering if the rumors were just that. Rumors.

  “But?”

  “You sort of let the cat out of the bag last night.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles bulging as he stared at me. “How did I do that?”

  “You got on the PA system at the front desk and announced it to everyone in the casino. It was well after five, so I don’t think many people heard it, but a few did. And Mickey.”

  “Mickey?”

  “He was there. He arranged the car, even came with us as a witness.”

  “Fuck!” He began to pace again, moving so quickly that he might have burned a hole in the carpet if he’d gone at it any longer. “He’s probably already called my dad.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening! I never wanted to get married, never wanted to be tied down. I don’t want this. I don’t want the responsibility that comes with it! Why would I…?”

  He shook his head as he continued pacing. I got up and grabbed my bag from where it was sitting behind the couch. I hadn’t noticed it until just then, but I was glad I hadn’t left without it since it had my apartment keys in it. But I’d had just about enough of this. I didn’t want to be involved in this chaos any more.

  I knew nothing about this guy. How did I know he wasn’t going to turn his anger on me? How did I know he wouldn’t beat the crap out of me, or force himself on me? How did I know he wouldn’t just toss me out on the street, or make Mickey fire me? I knew this was dangerous when I got involved, but I’d never really thought about all the consequences. What had I gotten myself into?

  “Where are you going?”

  I paused, nearly to the door. I was calculating his distance to me compared to my distance from the door. I was pretty sure I could make it. But, instead, I turned and looked at him.

  “You clearly don’t want me here. I feel like I’m just making this whole thing worse. I want to go home, have a bath, and think it out a little bit myself.”

 
He studied my face for a long minute, then nodded. “Okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I just…give me your address. I need to be able to find you when I figure out what our next step should be.”

  “Of course.”

  I searched through my purse and pulled out a small pad of paper on which I quickly scribbled my address and phone number. I tore off the sheet and handed it to him.

  He glanced at it, then at me. And then he began pacing again.

  I was free to go. I couldn’t believe it, but I was getting out of there before anything else happened.

  At least I thought I was…but then I opened the door and found Mickey standing there, his hand raised as though he was about to knock.

  “Hello, Amy,” he said with a bit of confusion in his eyes.

  “Hi, Mickey.”

  “Were you leaving?”

  I opened my mouth to explain, but Kyle came up behind me. He lay his hand on my shoulder, a heavy hand that made my knees feel as though they might buckle.

  “What are you doing up here, Mickey?”

  “I just came to check if ten was too early for the wedding reception.”

  “Wedding reception?”

  I closed my eyes. I hadn’t realized they would go quite that far. But, apparently, even I had underestimated Mickey.

  “The staff wanted to throw a party in your honor. After your announcement last night, they were all pretty excited for you.”

  Kyle’s grip on my shoulder tightened just slightly. “I’m sure they were.”

  “Especially since you married such a beloved employee here at the casino. Her friends on staff wanted to give her a proper celebration.”

  “It’s not necessary—”

  “That’s lovely,” Kyle interrupted me. “Ten o’clock is great. Gives us time to clean up and changed…you know how long it takes newlyweds to get themselves going the day after their wedding.”

  There was amusement in Kyle’s voice, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t genuine. Mickey seemed to understand that, too, because he shot me a quick look before he backed up.

  “Okay. Then we’ll see you in ballroom number 4, the one by the pool?”

  “Yeah, I know where that’s at.”

  Mickey nodded again, looking first at Kyle, then at me. Finally, he turned away.

  “Congrats,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Thanks, Mick.”

  We watched him disappear onto the elevator. Kyle took hold of my arm and tugged me back into his suite, turning me as the door closed. He pushed me up against the hardwood door and stood just inches from my face.

  “Did you know about this?”

  “No!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Would I have tried to leave if I did?”

  He studied my face for a long minute, then he nodded. “Okay. I believe you.”

  He pulled away, moving back into the pacing path he’d been following earlier.

  “I still need to go home and find something better to wear.”

  I looked at me. “You can use the shower here. Anything you need we can order up from the boutiques downstairs.”

  “I don’t want to do that when I have a whole closet full of things across town.”

  “Do they all look like that?”

  I blushed as I glanced down at myself.

  “Go get in the shower. I’ll order something.”

  It was more of a command than a suggestion. I didn’t like his tone of voice, and I didn’t like that he wasn’t going to let me leave now. But I walked into this with full knowledge of what it was I was doing. And I had to keep the rouse up if I wanted to protect my family.

  I went into the bedroom and closed the door. I thought about flipping the doorknob lock, but decided locking the bathroom door would be good enough. At least, I hoped it would be.

  I caught sight of myself in the mirror just as I’d done last night. This time, I really couldn’t look at myself. How could I have done this? No matter how bad things got, they couldn’t be much worse than what I’d already lived through, what we’d already lived through. So why did I agree to this? How did I let myself be manipulated into this?

  What was I going to do now?

  I undressed slowly, thinking about the man out in the living room. He seemed totally different from the man Joy had described to me yesterday. Yeah, he had a love for the cards. But he didn’t seem to have a dark temper. He hadn’t tried to take advantage of me while I lay naked in his bed. He didn’t say anything about the rights he had now that we were married. I’d been afraid that he’d want to take me back to bed at some point, but that hadn’t seemed to even crossed his mind.

  How could I have gotten this lucky? I tricked a womanizer into marrying me, yet he hadn’t tried to sleep with me. Was I just not his type? Or was there something else going on? Was he really a good man hiding under the guise of a jackass?

  That’s not what the girls I worked with had said. Most had slept with him on one or more of his visits. Most of them had gotten their hearts broken when he decided he was done with them and sent them away. And a lot of them complained that he’d treated them like prostitutes by giving them insane amounts of money to make them disappear. To be honest, some of them hadn’t minded that last part, but some had.

  I didn’t know what to think about the whole thing. He’d seemed more than ready to toss me onto his mattress last night. But now? Should I be grateful or offended that he hadn’t even hinted at a desire to sleep with me?

  Grateful. I should be grateful.

  I climbed into the shower, using his body wash and shampoo to clean myself. I even borrowed one of his disposable razors, not really in much of a mood to dress up with stubble dotting my legs. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in one of the heavy, white towels that the hotel provided. I closed my eyes, enjoying this little touch of luxury that I rarely was allowed to experience any more. I’d forgotten how good something so simple could feel. Then I rubbed the complimentary lotion into my skin, missing the indulgence of my own thick lotion that was sitting on the bathroom counter in my little, efficiency apartment across town.

  A touch of his deodorant—I hoped I didn’t smell too manly when this was all said and done!—and I slipped out into the bedroom. There was a box sitting on the edge of the bed from one of the nicer boutiques downstairs. He sure worked fast. I opened it and pulled from the tissue paper a beautiful blue gown that was cut low in the back and sported one full sleeve and one bare shoulder. It was daring, something I wouldn’t have chosen for myself. But once I slipped it on, I had to admit that it fit my curves almost perfectly. Even better than the prom gown my mother had custom made for me just five years ago.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the mirror now. I was a different person. No longer a cocktail waitress in some dark, smoky Las Vegas casino. I was Amelia Clark Wallace again. I was a debutante, walking down the glorious curving stairs of my father’s house, smiling down at the gentlemen waiting to ask me to dance. I was grace and luxury, independence and intelligence. I was my mother’s daughter once again.

  Tears welled in my eyes. I stared at myself in the bathroom, and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I’d gotten so used to being the exhausted, overworked cocktail waitress that I’d forgotten who I used to be.

  I lifted my hair off of my shoulders and twisted it into a knot at the back of my head, using bobby pins I’d had in my hair the night before to hold it in place. I had lip gloss and mascara in my bag that I applied carefully despite the shake in my hands. When I stepped back again…no matter what happened next, this was going to be a night to remember!

  Kyle was in the bedroom when I came out of the bathroom again. He was sitting on the far side of the bed, sliding on a pair of shiny dress shoes that probably cost more than my yearly take on tips. In fact, I knew they did because they were the same brand my father once prided himself on wearing. He stood and straightened the line of his jacket before he turned. His eyes widened
slightly as he took in the dress that hugged every curve of my body, bringing out the beauty without adding the trashy that my uniform showed off perfectly.

  “I wasn’t sure it would be the right size. I had to guess.”

  “You made a good guess.”

  His eyes moved slowly over me much as they had the night we met in the casino. “I did. I guess I’m better at that than I thought I was.” His eyes slowly came to my face then. “Do you like it?”

  “Like” wasn’t even the word I would use to describe it. I loved it. I loved that it made me feel human again. I loved that it took me back to a time when I didn’t have a care in the world. I loved that it made me feel sexy and powerful in a way I thought I’d lost long ago.

  But I think he saw all that written all over my face.

  “Thank you,” I said softly.

  He inclined his head—even though his eyes remained on mine. We stood there for a long moment, just sort of staring at each other. He was…he was a very handsome man. I could see why it was so easy for him to talk so many women into sharing his bed. He was dark, sort of exotic looking, broad shouldered, and exceedingly masculine—even in that suit. But there was a delicacy to his features that reminded me a little of Harry Belafonte or Michael Ealy, this sort of gentleness that belied the power that was humming just under the surface whenever he touched me. I liked the way the suit hung from his shoulders, the way his waist seemed so narrow compared to his heavy arms and broad chest. And I liked the cool, leaning-back-against-the-wall sort of detachment he seemed to exude even when he was standing at attention as he was now. There was something about him that just called to the dangerous woman that hid deep inside of me. That part of me wanted to jump into his arms, push him down onto the bed, and do things I’d never done before just because he was handsome, just because he seemed to promise—with just a look—an excitement that I wouldn’t find anywhere else.