"I know."
"Well, I'm sorry, Giovanni, but I'm not interested."
"You're interested. Don't start lying to me, Sasha." He folded his arms across his chest and kept his gaze on hers. Steady. Unrelenting. "Tell me why you have two jobs."
"It's not your business."
"Everything in our territory is my business. You're my business."
"Why?"
"You know why. I'm not playing this game with you. I'm interested. You're interested. I made an ass out of myself, but we got past that."
"You may have, but I haven't," she said. "Just look at yourself in those magazines. You're all over them. You have women hanging all over you. You're practically doing it with them in every other shot. There's a lovely shot of you on a balcony with a woman. She has no clothes on and you don't have your shirt on. There was another with a different woman that same night. Same night, same hotel. She was coming out of your room at three o'clock in the morning. Do you really think I would want to be part of that lifestyle? It isn't going to happen no matter how attracted to you I am. You live one way and it's a way I don't understand."
"I told you I was serious about being with you, Sasha. You know damn well I'm not lying to you. You can pretend you think I am, but it isn't the truth, and as far as I can tell, you live by the truth."
She could barely breathe. He sounded serious. And he sounded like he wasn't about to back off or give up. She would give in to him sooner or later if he kept at her. She knew she would. She'd never been so attracted to a man in her life. Her breasts ached. Ached. That had never happened to her before. Not one single time.
"Stop shaking your head."
She hadn't known she was shaking her head. Self-preservation was a beautiful thing. "We wouldn't work and you know it." She wished she didn't sound so desperate. It was only because he had caught her off guard. She hadn't expected him to be so direct. She knew his intentions. She wasn't stupid. She'd sat next to him for a couple of hours, his thigh pressed against hers. She was adept at reading men. She'd grown up around them.
She liked direct. She needed direct. She was a plainspoken woman. She said what she felt and expected those around her to do the same. She'd come to the city because she had to, because this was the place that for now, maybe for always, she needed to be. She realized almost immediately that most people here weren't quite as plainspoken as she'd been brought up to be. She liked Giovanni better for it, but it was also harder to resist him.
"We belong."
Her sex clenched. For a moment she thought he was going to take a step toward her, and she flung up her hand to ward him off. He couldn't touch her. That would really get her in trouble. He'd realize she was a little bit in lust with him. Over the top in lust. He just stayed there, draped lazily against the door, looking in complete control while she was a mess.
"Sasha. Did you hear me?"
"I heard you." Her voice came out a whisper. "I am not going there with you. I'm not. I need the work. When things don't work out, and they won't ..." He'd get bored. Men like him got bored. Sometimes they got bored in the same night, and she had the evidence to prove it lying on her kitchen table, the magazine open to the exact page. "I just can't afford to lose my job."
"Sasha, we're going to see each other. It's going to happen. Just tell me why you need two jobs."
"It isn't your business."
"Men like me investigate women they're interested in. You have to know that."
"Oh. My. God. Are you kidding me?" She was outraged. "Every woman you date is investigated?"
"Thoroughly."
"You have someone looking into me right this minute?"
He nodded. Looked complacent. She wanted to pull out her hair. She might have even yanked at it. At the very least she wanted to throw something at him.
"You don't think that's wrong? Totally messed up?"
"It's something we have no choice in. All of us do it. If you've got skeletons in your closet, you may as well confess now. It won't make any difference. I'm still going to claim you." He regarded her with that steady gaze, his eyes darker, sensual lines cut deep in his face.
"If you're still coming after me, then wasting your money and the time of investigators seems a little foolish."
"Knowledge is always a powerful thing."
"What does that mean?"
"It means stop beating around the bush. Why do you have to have two jobs? The apartment isn't cheap, but you can certainly afford it on what you make at the club."
She had to have the job at the club. If she hadn't needed it, she would have punched John Darby right in the nose. She might have done the same to his obnoxious, very drunk friends and the cameraman filming the entire setup. She knew they would have aired it on his reality show, and if she sued, they would have gladly paid her whatever she wanted. The episode would have been worth it to them.
She pulled out Pietro's office chair and sank into it. "I told you I have an older brother, Sandlin, and that he was driving the car the night of the accident." She pushed her fingers through her hair and then scrubbed her hand over her face. "He suffered a traumatic brain injury. Very severe. He ..." She forced herself to say it aloud. "He doesn't remember me. Not at all. He doesn't remember anything of his old life. I bring photographs to him, but nothing sparks his memory. He can't take care of himself and needs a full-time caretaker as well as rehabilitation. That doesn't come cheap. I researched the country for the best facilities, and there was a really good one here in Chicago."
"You pay for it yourself?"
"There's some insurance. His Social Security. I tried to hire a lawyer to sue the woman who hit him, but there was so much to do and I haven't had time. That's coming next. You can see I don't have the time or inclination to date anyone, let alone a man who has cameras following him around. My life is real, Giovanni."
"Meaning mine isn't?"
He straightened, and her breath caught in her lungs. He was back to looking like the lion, now stalking her. God, he was scary. He came close, towering over her, making her feel small. Making her feel like a snob. She was ashamed, but before she could take it back, he perched himself on the edge of the desk. He caught the arms of the chair she sat in and leaned toward her. Up close he looked more dangerous than ever. And he smelled delicious.
"I was shot twice a few months ago. The shot to my thigh shattered the bone and I've had to have several surgeries. I'll need another to get rid of the plates and rods. I've been months in physical therapy and haven't been able to do the job I was meant to do for my family. You don't know the first thing about my life, Sasha, but I assure you, it's very real."
She wanted to look away from the intensity of his stare, but she couldn't. She'd said it, and she'd been wrong to make such a statement. "I'm sorry. Of course, your life is real. I can't imagine the things you have to deal with in your life any more than you can imagine what is a hardship in mine. It was really wrong of me to imply that I have things harder than you. I really am sorry."
He caught her chin, his thumb sliding over her skin, sending little electrical pulses zapping through her like little lightning strikes. "You're an incredible woman, do you know that? I don't know many women who would apologize the way you just did. Right away. No beating around the bush."
"It was wrong of me, and I didn't even really mean it." She licked her lips because he kept staring at her mouth and she was suddenly very hungry for his kiss. She craved it when she'd never so much as felt his mouth on hers. She could almost taste him on her tongue. It was ridiculous.
"Sasha, I want to see you. Take a chance on me."
She wanted to. Especially when he was so close. His suit enhanced the muscles. It had to. The coat and vest and shirt just stretched across that wall of a chest and his wide shoulders. He looked amazing. He smelled even better. His mouth was ... close. On hers.
At the first touch of his lips, she gasped. Firm. Cool. Heating rapidly, or maybe that was her, because the blood in her veins was sudde
nly scorching and rushing to pool low. His teeth caught her lower lip and tugged gently. His tongue soothed the tiny ache. Her heart thudded. Her stomach did a slow roll. She was aware of him moving, or maybe it was her, but she was in his arms, surrounded by him. Her mouth opened all by itself. She didn't really have a thing to do with it.
He was unexpectedly gentle. That was her undoing. She couldn't resist him. He appeared dangerous and tough as nails, although smoothly sophisticated. He took his time exploring her mouth, and all that fire he ignited in her grew until she felt as if he was pouring flames down her throat so they could spread through her body.
Her arms crept around his neck and she found herself kissing him back, her tongue tangling with his. Her body melted into his. She couldn't think anymore. She wasn't even certain of her own name. All that mattered was his addicting taste and the fire he created with just his mouth alone.
It was Giovanni who broke the kiss with a soft groan. He lifted his head, his breathing a little ragged. She realized she was standing between his legs, pressed tightly against him, her mouth chasing his.
"Baby," he said very softly, "we have to stop. I promised myself I'd do this right with you. I want you more than you could possibly know, and this isn't where we're going to have our first time together."
Sasha inhaled sharply and tried to pull back. What was wrong with her? One moment she was saying no and the next she was participating in the longest make-out session she'd ever been in. The best. No one kissed like he did. She touched her lips to make certain they weren't actually on fire.
"I have to sit down." She did. Her legs weren't going to support her, and if she didn't get away from his body, she was going to be touching parts of him that were definitely off-limits.
He held on to her until she was seated in the chair. She needed time away from his potency. She gave him a rueful smile. "I think that's called being kissed senseless. My brain short-circuited." She held up her hand before he could say anything. "It's coming back. Slow, but it's happening. I love the way you kiss. Obviously. That still isn't saying I'm going to take a chance on you. I don't want a broken heart, and you're that man. You are, Giovanni. Seriously. You have to listen to me. I'm not like those other women you date."
"I don't date them, Sasha. I've never dated anyone. I don't go to their place of work and plead my case. I fuck them. I walk away. They walk away. That isn't how I want to live. I want a woman who actually loves me. I want to love her. I want a family. I don't want to go to nightclubs every night and play stupid games. You're that woman for me."
"How do you know? You met me three days ago."
He waved his hand around the room as if it was the world. "I've traveled everywhere. I've met many women over the years, too many. None of them were the right one. When you've looked as long as I have, believe me, baby, you know when you see her. I knew the moment I saw you."
She had to get away from his charisma. He drew her in like a magnet and she couldn't seem to find the strength to push him away. "I'll think about it, but I have to get back to work. This job is important to me. It doesn't pay anything like the club, but it's forty hours a week solid. Sometimes, if I can do it, he gives me overtime. I like the people, and it allows me to make a few friends."
His face darkened. "Tito Petrov is not your friend. If you think I'm a ladies' man, he's worn that title around here since the seventh grade."
She frowned up at him, but there was the tiniest part of her that was a little thrilled. She knew she shouldn't be, but it was there all the same. "You sound jealous."
"I'm jealous as hell. Tito. Aaron. How many others?"
She shrugged. "A few men came in and asked me out. I think I'm new in the neighborhood. And Aaron just feels bad because he and his friend drank too much celebrating his victory and wanted to apologize. Aaron sent me flowers and a really nice note, and his friend, James, sent me a box of chocolates with a beautiful card. I was surprised either of them would do that. Tom came in to apologize in person, as did one of the men who had his camera taken away. I think his name was Sid."
She had been shocked. It was the last thing she ever would have considered--the three men, very drunk, their hands wandering constantly as if they were entitled to anything they wanted, giving her apologies. A man who made his living taking pictures telling her he was sorry he'd gotten angry over losing the film.
Giovanni kept his gaze steady on her face. "Did they include their phone numbers in their nice little notes?"
She nodded. "Yes, but I don't think any of them expected me to actually call them."
He gave a small groan and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers moved over her cheek and swept down to her jaw, leaving her shivering at his touch. She found her reaction to him disturbing.
"Aaron is a good man, Sasha, but he's a player. I've known him most of his life. We train together sometimes and he's a very good fighter, one of the best. He's fought his way to the top and he deserves everything he gets. His childhood wasn't the easiest, so I'm always happy when he wins his fights and earns good money. Being a good man doesn't necessarily translate into being a good partner."
"You can't know that."
"I do know that. He's never been faithful to a single woman he's been in a relationship with. I think it's because he's looking for something intangible that he can never find. He needs to know he's worth something, and he's always looking in the wrong places."
Sasha could tell he was very thoughtful about it, not being mean about his friend. She could tell he liked Aaron, but was definitely warning her away from the fighter. "What about you? Have you always been faithful to a woman you've been in a relationship with?"
"I've never had a relationship."
For a moment she almost didn't comprehend what he was telling her. The enormity of that. She heard the ring of honesty in his voice, but to think that he had never been in a relationship ...
"Not ever? Not even in school?"
"We weren't allowed to go to a school, not like most people. Not even a private school. We had tutors. They were very ... exacting. We weren't encouraged to have social relationships with our peers. When I said I knew him from school, I meant he was my age during my school years and we struck up a friendship of sorts. Aaron's family life was bad, and I ran across him one evening when I was running in the park. He was skinny, his clothes were torn and he was a mess. It was cold and he didn't have much to keep him warm, so I snuck him into our garage. Our garage is heated and is absolutely clean at all times." There was a trace of humor in his voice when he said the last.
She knew Giovanni felt bad for Aaron and was telling her about his friend, but the story told her so much more about him. He was wealthy beyond most people's imaginations and lived away from others, not encouraged to have friends or relationships, yet he'd taken a boy home and hidden him in his garage to help him out.
"The tabloids always have you with some woman. None of that is true?"
Giovanni shrugged. "I go to charity events all the time. It's customary to have a woman on your arm. The more famous she is, the more attention you bring to the charity. Being with a woman for a night doesn't mean I'm in a relationship with her."
"Why one night?" Sasha was well aware she was asking questions she shouldn't. She didn't want to even consider dating him. She didn't want to be attracted to him, and the more she knew of him, the stronger the attraction seemed to be. She just couldn't stop herself.
"I don't lead women on. I don't pretend that we're going to be together forever. Even for a few months or years. It's all or nothing for the men in our family. That's the way we're made and we don't take chances that we're going to hurt someone innocent. I'm not playing a game with you, Sasha. I'm telling you, you're the one."
She shook her head. "I'm not. You don't know me at all. Not at all."
"I watched you for most of the night. You're like a ray of sunshine. The club was dark, and I was feeling angry and maybe a little sorry for
myself." He paused. "Very sorry for myself," he corrected. "I didn't want to be there, but I had no choice. I was sick of the music and the drinking. I was really sick of the women fawning all over me. My cousin was upset because the woman he thought cared about him did something despicable and he realized she didn't care at all. It was a shit night, and then I saw you laughing. You were several tables down from mine, serving drinks, and you were like the sun right there, lighting up the dark."
Her heart reacted, beating faster. Butterfly wings fluttered against her stomach.
"I watched you. I couldn't take my eyes from you. You chatted with various people and I could see that everywhere you went, those you served drinks to laughed with you. Their faces lit up when you came close. You fascinated me."
"I think, if that's true, it doesn't take all that much." She had to deflect, make a joke, do something, anything to keep from hearing what he was saying. She liked it too much. She couldn't afford to be drawn into anything with him. She was too busy and she didn't have room in her life for someone else. More, his world was so different from hers. She knew she wouldn't fit in there. How could she? She didn't understand the people in his world, with their false smiles and sense of entitlement.
"I won't lie to you, Sasha. Not now, not ever. I'm about as jaded as a man can get. I've had every trick you can imagine pulled on me. When I saw you, I swear, you were like a breath of fresh air when I was drowning. I watched you all night like some stalker. I lost track of you when you went on your break and that's what got me in trouble."
She didn't have a defense against him, not when he told her things like that. She stared up at his face, all those hard angles and planes. His family scared her just a little bit, looking dangerous and powerful and owning just about everything she could see from her apartment above the deli.
"Tell me about your brother."
The softly spoken command was so unexpected she found herself doing so before she could think it through. She needed someone to talk to about him. "Sandlin is my big brother. An absolute sweetheart. We were very close. He taught me to ride and shoot. He practically taught me everything there was to know about ranching. He took jobs away from the ranch and sent the money home when we needed anything extra. He would buy me things my parents couldn't afford to give me. Sometimes he'd sneak me candy he bought, salt water taffy was my favorite, the cinnamon kind, and he'd go to the candy store, pick all the cinnamon ones out and fill up a bag for me. I wasn't supposed to eat it because Mom didn't want me ruining my teeth, but Sandlin would sneak it into my room."
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