Shadow Rider
Page 98
She blinked rapidly, annoyed. “You seriously can’t say things like that to me. I mean it, Stefano. I’m sorry if I annoy you, but if I object to something, I’m going to voice it.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her in close, her front to his side as they made their way to the restrooms in the VIP section. “Voice it all you like, Francesca. I didn’t mean you can’t tell me when you disagree, but there isn’t any purpose in arguing when it comes to your safety. You won’t get your way.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Francesca made her way to the restrooms without looking at Stefano. It was easy enough because she was so close to him she could feel his heat right through his immaculate and extremely expensive pin-striped suit. He was annoying her with his bossy ways, but not enough for her to start a fight over it. She was far too mellow with her three Moscow Mules, the music, and the feel and smell of Stefano Ferraro.
“What’s up with the suits?” she murmured, running her hand inside his jacket so she could feel the quality of his impressive dark shirt. “You and all your brothers wear them, your sister does and now your cousins. But not all your cousins. They all wear suits, just not pin-striped suits.”
Stefano hesitated. Just slightly, but it was enough of a hesitation that she noticed it and she stopped, forcing him to stop right along with her. Only then did she realize that the party had accompanied them. They were surrounded by his brothers and cousins, including Emilio and Enzo. She was once again in the center, as if they were all guarding her.
“Stefano?” Her voice trembled a little. Suddenly, from feeling safe and protected, she feared maybe there was a reason they were all surrounding her. Was it because they’d confirmed that the man staring at her at the deli had been sent by Barry Anthon? She’d continued to work and he hadn’t returned, nor had anyone else shown up.
“I’ll explain about the suits at home, bambina.” His voice was gentle, once again obviously reading her mood, but not the reason why.
She looked around the circle of tough, handsome faces and found herself pressing closer to Stefano. “Is something wrong? Did Barry . . .”
“No.” He was emphatic. “We’re just watching over you your first time out in a public venue when the paparazzi are here. We try to keep them out, but cameras are everywhere.”
For the first time, she detected a lie. They hadn’t tried to keep the paparazzi out. Why would that be? And why would Stefano lie about that when he clearly hadn’t lied about anything else? She didn’t understand his world. It was filled with intrigue and danger. More, she feared it was filled with violence.
She studied his face, taking her time. Letting him see her trepidation. He was so beautiful to her. The planes and angles of his face, so absolutely masculine. He looked like a man, not a boy. There wasn’t softness to his features, yet he still looked model perfect to her. The long sweep of his eyelashes and deep blue of his eyes, the shadow on his strong jaw, his straight aristocratic nose and especially his mouth, that sinful, amazing mouth that gave her so many fantasies—all together were perfection.
His fingers curled around the nape of her neck and he bent his head until his forehead touched hers and he was staring into her eyes. “You gave me you, Francesca. Give me your trust.”
She went up on tiptoes and put her mouth to his ear. “You just told me a lie about the paparazzi, Stefano. You wanted them here.”
She expected him to be upset that she caught his lie, but instead he looked inexplicably pleased and proud of her. “We’ll sort out your questions in time. For now, bella, just trust me.”
She took a breath. Inhaled him right through her nose, her mouth, her very pores until she was taking him deep into her body. He had wound himself so tightly around her bones and heart that she knew she would never get him out. She just nodded, because she was incapable of speech. Her heart beat a weirdly frantic tattoo and blood thundered in her ears so loud she couldn’t hear anything but her own driving need. She touched her tongue to her bottom lip. His face was so close, the tip of her tongue touched his lip as well.
“Bambina, right now, go into the restroom while you still can. When you come out, we’ll dance and then I’m going to take you home and fuck you all night.” He whispered the promise against her lips and it felt like he was already doing just that.
Her sex clenched and went damp. Her nipples tightened. Her breathing went ragged. He lifted his forehead from hers and turned her toward the restroom. She wasn’t entirely certain she could take those last few steps to the entrance on her wobbly legs, but she managed, slipping into a stall and closing her eyes, savoring the way Stefano could make her feel with just a few words.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her in close, her front to his side as they made their way to the restrooms in the VIP section. “Voice it all you like, Francesca. I didn’t mean you can’t tell me when you disagree, but there isn’t any purpose in arguing when it comes to your safety. You won’t get your way.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Francesca made her way to the restrooms without looking at Stefano. It was easy enough because she was so close to him she could feel his heat right through his immaculate and extremely expensive pin-striped suit. He was annoying her with his bossy ways, but not enough for her to start a fight over it. She was far too mellow with her three Moscow Mules, the music, and the feel and smell of Stefano Ferraro.
“What’s up with the suits?” she murmured, running her hand inside his jacket so she could feel the quality of his impressive dark shirt. “You and all your brothers wear them, your sister does and now your cousins. But not all your cousins. They all wear suits, just not pin-striped suits.”
Stefano hesitated. Just slightly, but it was enough of a hesitation that she noticed it and she stopped, forcing him to stop right along with her. Only then did she realize that the party had accompanied them. They were surrounded by his brothers and cousins, including Emilio and Enzo. She was once again in the center, as if they were all guarding her.
“Stefano?” Her voice trembled a little. Suddenly, from feeling safe and protected, she feared maybe there was a reason they were all surrounding her. Was it because they’d confirmed that the man staring at her at the deli had been sent by Barry Anthon? She’d continued to work and he hadn’t returned, nor had anyone else shown up.
“I’ll explain about the suits at home, bambina.” His voice was gentle, once again obviously reading her mood, but not the reason why.
She looked around the circle of tough, handsome faces and found herself pressing closer to Stefano. “Is something wrong? Did Barry . . .”
“No.” He was emphatic. “We’re just watching over you your first time out in a public venue when the paparazzi are here. We try to keep them out, but cameras are everywhere.”
For the first time, she detected a lie. They hadn’t tried to keep the paparazzi out. Why would that be? And why would Stefano lie about that when he clearly hadn’t lied about anything else? She didn’t understand his world. It was filled with intrigue and danger. More, she feared it was filled with violence.
She studied his face, taking her time. Letting him see her trepidation. He was so beautiful to her. The planes and angles of his face, so absolutely masculine. He looked like a man, not a boy. There wasn’t softness to his features, yet he still looked model perfect to her. The long sweep of his eyelashes and deep blue of his eyes, the shadow on his strong jaw, his straight aristocratic nose and especially his mouth, that sinful, amazing mouth that gave her so many fantasies—all together were perfection.
His fingers curled around the nape of her neck and he bent his head until his forehead touched hers and he was staring into her eyes. “You gave me you, Francesca. Give me your trust.”
She went up on tiptoes and put her mouth to his ear. “You just told me a lie about the paparazzi, Stefano. You wanted them here.”
She expected him to be upset that she caught his lie, but instead he looked inexplicably pleased and proud of her. “We’ll sort out your questions in time. For now, bella, just trust me.”
She took a breath. Inhaled him right through her nose, her mouth, her very pores until she was taking him deep into her body. He had wound himself so tightly around her bones and heart that she knew she would never get him out. She just nodded, because she was incapable of speech. Her heart beat a weirdly frantic tattoo and blood thundered in her ears so loud she couldn’t hear anything but her own driving need. She touched her tongue to her bottom lip. His face was so close, the tip of her tongue touched his lip as well.
“Bambina, right now, go into the restroom while you still can. When you come out, we’ll dance and then I’m going to take you home and fuck you all night.” He whispered the promise against her lips and it felt like he was already doing just that.
Her sex clenched and went damp. Her nipples tightened. Her breathing went ragged. He lifted his forehead from hers and turned her toward the restroom. She wasn’t entirely certain she could take those last few steps to the entrance on her wobbly legs, but she managed, slipping into a stall and closing her eyes, savoring the way Stefano could make her feel with just a few words.
