4. The Abrupt Exit
4
THE AbrUPT EXIT
LUCIANO
“ Y ou zhuzhed me up,” Simone said rolling off him. “Serious Zhuzhing with a capital Z.”
He chuffed out a laugh. “My designers use that word. You put a whole new spin on it.”
“You fuck good… too good.”
“It’s you. I’m just along for the ride.”
That made her smile. “I’m not buying that. I think it’s your world and everyone else lives in it.”
He leaned over to kiss her, and she stilled. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you.”
She pushed out of bed, opened the closet, and pulled out his robe. After covering herself, she turned back to him. “Yeah, so this was fun. I give you props… you’re a man of your word.” She paused, her penetrating gaze anchored on him. “That means a lot to me.”
She looked adorable in his bathrobe. Instead of feeling joy, another pang of sadness flitted through him.
“Don’t go.”
He did not want to be alone.
She sat on the edge of the bed, ran her fingers through her mussed hair and stroked his chest. Her soothing touch had him breathing deep while her tender caresses kept the demons at bay just a little longer.
“Don’t go?” she crooned. “Is Mr. Santini a romantic?”
“I have no heart.”
“Neither do I.”
He propped up on his elbows. Now, inches away, the pull to kiss her overpowered him. Again, he leaned toward her. This time, she didn’t back away. Their lips met in a tender kiss.
After pushing out of bed, she vanished into the bathroom, returning shortly after. “Sex, then food.”
“Then more sex.”
While she dressed, he cleaned himself up in the bathroom. Seconds later, he was back in his stateroom. As he pulled on his pants, she eyed him like she was going to devour him alive.
“If you continue eye-fucking me, we won’t get to the food,” he said.
She shook her head, blinked several times. “Those are very nice pants.”
“As a personal shopper, you would be an expert on that, yes?”
Pursing her lips, she slinked out of the room with a sway in her hips that had him following close on her heels. In his spacious galley, he pulled out the dinner containers, then a Santini Chianti from his private collection.
“Yes?” he asked, holding out the bottle.
“I’ll have a glass.” She pulled out two stemless wine glasses, tapped one with her fingernail. “Acrylic.”
“Unbreakable,” he replied.
She pulled silverware from a drawer. He collected cloth napkins, suggested they eat on the stern. With their heated plates of food in hand, he gestured toward the back of the yacht. Once outside, he waited for her to sit before easing onto the leather bench across from her.
He was well aware she was the enemy, sent by someone to flush out his illegal activities. Illegal activities that had to do with his crime family, not his assassinations.
Regardless of what they’d sent her to find, she would find nothing.
She raised her glass.
“Salud,” he said.
After tapping their goblets, they sipped. The wine ignited his taste buds, and he savored his private label before swallowing it down.
“Nothing better than a glass of wine on my boat with a beautiful woman.”
“Especially after you’ve been zhuzhed,” she replied before slicing into the chicken. “Mmm,” she murmured as she chewed. “Delicious.”
“My chef is very talented.” He forked the kale, slid the crisp vegetable into his mouth.
She leaned back, glanced around. “Do you entertain here often?”
With a slice of chicken poised at his mouth, he said, “Are you asking as Simone the spy, Simone the personal shopper, or Simone my dinner companion?” He tried the chicken. As expected, cooked to perfection.
“Just Simone,” she replied. “I’m not trying to trick you into giving anything away.”
“I’ll take you at your word.” That’s not happening . “I entertain friends, family, and business associates on the Omega. She’s very special to me, so I don’t invite just anyone.”
“She’s stunning.”
“She’s a well-crafted vessel that affords me the luxury I’ve earned.” He collected her hand, kissed her soft skin. “ You’re stunning.”
Though composed, she appeared a little uneasy.
“Never slept with a mark before, have you?” he asked.
“No.”
“Tell me what you do when you’re not working.”
“I like to cook, but nothing like this,” she said. “My parents live in South Carolina and I visit when I can. My brother and his husband are in Tysons. I like hanging with them.”
“What does your brother do?”
“He runs a computer software company in McLean. He and his husband used to breed German Shepherds.”
“Beautiful dogs. We had them as kids, for protection.”
“Why?”
“Because my dad and uncle ran the Santini syndicate, but you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“I did.” She sipped the wine. “Now, my brother breeds French Bulldogs. When they moved to their Tysons’ condo, they decided a smaller dog would work better.”
He appreciated that she asked nothing about the Santini crime family.
“What do you do besides cook and visit family?” he asked.
“I love listening to classical music when I work out, but I don’t like it otherwise.” She shrugged a shoulder. “One of my many quirks.”
He moved beside her on the bench, pulled his plate and wine glass over. Then, he collected her hand in his. “You’re very intriguing,” he said before pressing his lips to her hand and kissing it.
Her fingers were trembling. “Are you cold?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Do I scare you?”
“No.” Then a playfulness brightened her eyes. “But when you tie me up and take me against my will, I’m going to act like I’m scared to death.”
Energy surged through him, landing between his legs. “I can’t wait.” After a pause, he asked, “Why are you shaking?”
She tugged her hand away. “Truth?”
“It’ll be a first.”
“You’re—” She stared into his eyes for several seconds.
SIMONE
She couldn’t tell him the truth. That would be way too revealing. She was having dinner with Luciano Santini on his sixty-foot yacht… after having crazy-hot sex with him. That was beyond insane. Yes, she’d dated handsome men, a few had some bucks too, but no one like Luciano.
Not even close.
She was a regular girl. Wouldn’t he date a princess from some foreign country or an actor worth millions?
He was studying her so hard, he’d furrowed his brows. “Tell me,” he coaxed.
She broke eye contact, lifted the stemless wine glass and swallowed down a hearty gulp. Not the most suave move, but she needed a stall so she could come up with something to say.
Then, it hit her, and the sharp sting of truth snapped her back to reality.
She was just someone to fuck. Someone he wanted to confront, someone he wanted information from. He’d spotted her watching him, so he’d tracked her down, then moved in for the kill.
Only he’d used sex as a tool. Was he expecting her to open up about who sent her? Was he expecting a late-night confession? Did he actually think she’d be that gullible and na?ve?
Yes, he was a god in bed. Yes, he was very handsome with a shit-ton of money, but he wasn’t interested in her . He was interested in who she was working for.
The sex high she’d been enjoying fell out from under her and she plummeted back to reality. Her reality where people have jobs—not an empire—and people have money, just not boatloads of it.
She moved off the bench. “This was fun, but I gotta take off.”
Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Finish your dinner, then I’ll take you back.”
“I’m out.”
She hated being a bitch. He’d been nothing but nice… and so damn talented, but she didn’t live in a fantasy world. She lived in the real world where she didn’t date billionaires.
Before she blurted out anything else she’d regret, she hurried down the stairs to his stateroom. Moving as fast as she could, she dressed, opened the door, and crashed into him.
“This is definitely one for my journal, but I’m out,” she said.
“Are you swimming back?” he asked.
“What?”
“We’re anchored in the Potomac, Simone.”
Like every other time, her name came out like a purr, but she had to push forward. “Nothing like making a total ass of myself,” she mumbled.
“Come.” He extended his hand. “We’ll finish eating, then we’ll return to the marina.”
“I… um…” She couldn’t come up with a strong enough counterargument.
He clasped her hand, the heat from his radiating through her. “No more questions.”
They returned to the table on the stern. Normally, she was a very even-keeled, composed woman. Being around him was a little intimidating.
It just was.
She forked the kale salad into her mouth and enjoyed a delicious medley of flavors. A touch of olive oil, the bite of lemon, and the crunch of almond slivers.
They ate in silence for a moment, the gentle breeze floating through her hair. She’d glance around, but within seconds, she’d find herself peering over at him. He was easy on the eyes and possessed an over-abundance of sex appeal and charisma.
He slid his attention to her before sipping his wine.
“Tell me about you,” she said.
“What did you learn?” he asked.
She shook her head, slid a piece of chicken into her mouth. As she chewed, her attention stayed anchored on his. “You talk.”
“I work seven days a week,” he said. “I adore my grandmother, my father’s mother. Elsa had a big hand in raising me. My father was too focused on the business, so he didn’t spend time with us. I’m close with my brothers Teddy, and Gabriel—who lives in Italy. My cousin, Carrera Santini is like a brother to me as well.”
She nodded in acknowledgment.
“After my father was murdered, my mother moved to Las Vegas. We aren’t close, but I keep in touch.”
Words were coming out of his mouth, but he was revealing nothing. She’d placed a wedge between them, and he’d left it there.
When they finished dinner, he said, “I’ll take you back.” Rather than invite her to join him on the bridge, he retreated inside. She sat alone on the stern, peering out at the black water. Within seconds, the anchor was raised into the vessel, then he motored toward the marina.
She liked being around him. He exuded power. And there was an undeniable connection that was constantly pulling her toward him. But she’d crossed a line and she didn’t want to cross it again. Her career meant everything to her and she didn’t want to get caught up in something that had no future.
There was no universe where Simone Redding ended up with Luciano Santini. That reality kept her grounded and she was determined to stay that way.
He pulled into the marina and backed into his slip. She grabbed one of the ropes from the pier and tied it to a cleat on the yacht. As she was tying another, he pulled up alongside her.
With a light touch, he collected the rope from her. “This is how you tie it.” He showed her, then untied it, and handed her the rope. She mimicked what he’d shown her. “You’re a fast learner.”
They stood. “Help me tie the rest of them.” Together, they worked to secure the vessel.
“Tonight was unexpected and fun.” She extended her hand.
He pulled her close, kissed her. “Simone, thank you for spending the evening with me.”
She melted from the way he held her so securely. She’d never felt so safe, so protected. His baseline scent was drawing her in. Her wildly fluttering heart was betraying her at every turn. Even so, she had to shut this down.
Breaking away, she said. “I’ll call for a ride?—”
“No.” His abrupt tone caught her ear. “You are not getting into a car with a stranger in the middle of the night.”
Gone was the charming lilt. Gone was the sparkle in his beautiful hazel eyes. This was a serious Luciano. But she didn’t work for him. She didn’t take orders from him either.
“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed her phone and toggled to a rideshare app.
“You are not getting into some random vehicle and letting some random man drive you away. If you won’t allow me to escort you home, let Stuart take you. I trust him. He’s a trained Army Ranger and he’ll ensure your safety.”
Seriously?
This was a little extreme.
“It’s a twenty-minute car ride. What could possibly happen to me?”
A shadow fell over his eyes, then a flash of something. Was it anger? Sadness?
He sent a text, then said to her, “Stuart will meet you at the end of the pier.” The bite in his voice caught her ear. He stepped onto the pier, extended his hand.
She’d insulted him. After chugging in a deep breath, she collected her shoes, then placed her hand in his and was lifted off his yacht.
She’d ruined her fairytale evening and she had no one to blame but herself. “The Omega is lovely and I enjoyed your company.”
He stayed silent.
“We come from very different worlds,” she continued. “This was a magical night, but I’ve got a pumpkin to catch. Your driver can take me home.”
“As you wish,” he replied, devoid of all emotion.
She’d had amazing sex with Luciano Santini, then she’d insulted him.
“Yeah, so I’m the dumbest woman on the planet. I get that.” She kissed his cheek. “You deserve better.”
“I don’t deserve anyone ,” he replied.
In the nearby parking lot, Stuart flashed the car’s headlights.
“Goodnight, Simone.”
She melted from the sexy way he pronounced her name.
“Goodbye, Luciano.”
As she hurried toward the waiting car, she mumbled, “I’m too stupid to live.”
Yet, she was doing the right thing. She’d slept with her target, then had dinner with him on his yacht, and had sex with him again . Those were grounds for termination. If Z had been her boss, and he’d found out, he would have let her go without a second thought.
But Z’s not your boss. Not anymore.
Stuart opened the back door and she got inside. Relived the privacy screen was still up, she leaned against the leather seat. As he pulled away, she glanced back down the pier, but Luciano’s yacht was too far down to see him.
Carrera Santini is my boss now, which is probably worse than having Z . Maybe I got myself fired anyway.
Normally composed, a shudder skirted through her. Did I overreact? She stared out the window as streetlights whizzed by. By the time they pulled up to her home, she concluded that the hookup was bad enough, joining him on his yacht was worse, the sex—while phenomenal—was a mistake—and she did the right thing by leaving.
Stuart opened the car door for her.
“Thank you for driving me home.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
At her front door, she punched in the entry code on the keypad. Her lock slid open and she disappeared inside, turned off her house alarm, and crumpled to the floor in her foyer.
A few seconds passed before she pulled out her phone. It was almost midnight. She texted her brother.
I did a stupid thing. Can you talk?
Seconds later, her phone rang.
“Hey,” she answered. “Thanks for calling me back.”
“What’s going on?”
Her older brother, Gary Redding, had been her rock for as long as she could remember. But, she had been his too.
“I had sex with one of my targets,” she said.
“Good for you,” he replied.
“Not helping.”
“Did he know you’d been watching him?” Gary asked.
“It was Luciano Santini, so yes, he did.”
“Good Lord, you did not.”
She chuckled. “I did, and it was better than anything I could’ve imagined.”
“Then, what’s the problem?”
“Seriously, Gare, you’re not helping.”
“It was a one-off, well, maybe not. How many times did you climax?” He laughed.
“How can you make light of this?”
“How can you not?” he asked. “It’s not like you committed a crime. It’s not like you’re adding that to your report.”
He had a point.
“I’m surprised you got yourself worked up at all. Just chock it up to living dangerously and move on.”
After thanking him for walking her off the ledge, she hung up. As she sat in her foyer, she wished she’d never had sex with Luciano.
How do you go from Luciano Santini to any other man?
The only place to go now… is down.
On her way upstairs, her phone buzzed with a text.
Sognami, Simone
She pulled up the translator on her phone, typed in the Italian word, and read the English translation— Dream of me.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Damn that man.