10. Dante
CHAPTER 10
DANTE
“S o then, I tiptoed into the room, went up behind the chair he was sitting in, and slit his throat from ear to ear!” I say in an exaggerated sing-song voice. “And a-boom! He was dead!”
Aisling’s bright blue eyes light up as she giggles, her arms and legs flailing as if I’ve just told her the most amazing story she’s ever heard. I keep my best assassin tales stored up just for her. Her plump little body shakes with laughter when I give her belly a little motorboat action.
Yes, I’m a great fucking uncle.
We’re outside on the pool deck at my family’s hotel, the Excelsior, and even though I’m all set up in the shade, the heat is so excruciating, I need to jump into the water every five minutes to make sure neither one of us dies of heat stroke.
I scoop Aisling into my arms and walk over to the ledge of the pool, making sure her sunhat is securely fastened under her chin and that she’s slathered with sunblock.
Heaven and Matteo will skewer me if the kid shows up with a hint of pink on her skin.
I position her in my lap, very aware of several pairs of female eyes on me bouncing Aisling on my knee as she splashes and babbles. In my periphery, I can see them smiling and whispering, but I have zero interest in engaging with any of them. My mind is on one girl only…the one I just left, the one currently slumming it at the Bellagio for the foreseeable future.
Anya.
What a sexy fucking name.
That kiss has had my dick in a twist for the past couple of hours since my visit with the now-late Miguel Rivas, and I’ve been trying to come up with scenarios where I can experience it again without looking like a total stalker.
The other thing nagging at me is the connection I felt. It’s something I can’t explain…just a feeling, really…like I’ve met her before.
She makes me think of Red Death…Dress…from last night, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why.
Maybe I’m just so wrapped up in the wanton memories from that erotic little encounter at the back of the lounge that I’m projecting them onto this other girl.
The one who is here in Vegas, not the nameless Russian mafia princess who left without so much as a ‘thank you’ for getting her off.
And oh yeah, she was my only lead on the Vigo situation.
I splash some water on my face and run my hand through my hair as Aisling kicks and coos.
But even though there was nothing about them that matched up physically, the feeling of familiarity sticks.
Just like the taste of those lips.
I’ve kissed plenty of women in my life, more than I could ever count. But something about those two was just so damn similar…in an uncanny way, not to my mind but to my body. When Anya kissed me, my body melded against her like it had been there before, like it knew exactly what to expect even though my mind had no fucking idea what I was doing or why.
I chalked it up to Red Dress being a loose end, one I have no confidence that I’ll ever tie up. I mean, I don’t even know who she is. Without that disguise, she could be anyone.
Invisible, just like I usually aim to be.
That makes me more than a little nervous because she can reappear as quickly as she left.
And I still don’t have any trust in the bullshit she fed me last night.
We have unfinished business, in more ways than one.
Then again, so do me and Anya.
And she knows it as well as I do. Everything in her expression confirmed it…not to mention the way her body was plastered against me for those few stolen seconds.
Jesus Christ…
Without my real work occupying me, all I have is time to think. And thinking is dangerous.
I’d much rather act.
I had one job to do while I was in New York, and all I have are loose ends and a severe case of blue balls.
“You know what, Aisling? Women are the fucking devil. I hate to be the one to break that news to you since you’re gonna be one of them, but they are. They have this witchy way of distracting men from things that are really important, and then they escape out a fucking window,” I mutter, leaning back on one hand.
I really need to let that go. Part of me believes I let her get away without talking because I’m actually losing my edge, and that pisses me off to no end.
I haven’t completely lost it. I mean, I think Miguel Rivas would agree with that.
But it’s slowly morphing from a sharp, serrated blade to more of a blunt-edged butter knife.
That’s bad news, not only for me but my family.
But it wasn’t the missed opportunity for sex that grates on me.
It’s that I let myself lose focus and without the information I need, I can’t do what Matteo expects – to protect the family.
I can’t protect anyone from an invisible threat.
I’m much more effective with tangible ones.
Aisling claps her hands and keeps splashing.
I sigh. “Good talk, kid. Just file it away for later.”
“What, exactly, are you telling my daughter to ‘file away for later’?” My brother Matteo drops next to me in the pool and picks up Aisling, holding her up and blowing raspberries onto her belly. I stifle a smirk. The girls around us have to be creaming in their bikini bottoms right now watching us with the baby.
That, or they think we’re gay.
“You’re in a bathing suit,” I say to Matteo. “What gives?”
He shrugs. “I figured I needed a little break.”
“When does the boss ever take a break?” I say with a mock look of shock on my face.
“This place is Sergio’s baby,” he says. “Not mine,” he says, nuzzling Aisling’s cheek.
It’s true. Sergio, one of my other brothers, runs the Excelsior. But Matteo is still the boss, and he never lets any of us forget it.
He also never comes out to the pool. It’s his wife Heaven’s grand plan to stay out here in Vegas. Matteo hates the heat — dry or otherwise.
“You know, I am so fucking tired of hearing how people say dry heat isn’t as hot,” he grumbles, almost on cue. He says some variation of this every time he comes outside, and only seconds later, he finds some excuse to dart back in the air conditioning.
But today, he’s in board shorts.
That tells me he’s sticking around, something that makes my gut knot a bit. I see a cocktail waitress walk toward us and I flash her a big smile.
She grins back and leans down next to me so that I can get a clear view of her tits popping out of her bikini top. “What can I get you, Mr. Villani?”
“I’d love a Tito’s and soda. Actually, make it three.”
“Three?” Matteo asks, his eyebrow lifted.
“Yeah,” I say with a snicker. “One for you and two for me. If you’re out here, I figure I’m gonna need to be double-fisting.”
“And a water, too, please,” Matteo says with a smile. “Thanks.” He rolls his eyes at me. “Why do you insist on coming out here? It is so fucking brutally hot, you can’t breathe!”
“I think you can breathe just fine,” I say. “You just don’t like to sweat because you think it makes your hair frizz.” I waggle a finger in front of Aisling’s face and she grabs it, stuffing it into her mouth, getting it nice and wet with baby drool. I tickle her under her chin with my free hand and flash a bright smile at her. “Tell Daddy that Uncle D is right, because he’s so vain about his hair.”
“My hair doesn’t frizz,” he grumbles. “I just hate being outside in the fucking desert. It’s hot and I’m sweating, even sitting here in the damn pool.”
“Just let the tension go,” I say, dragging my fingers through the water past Aisling.
“She shouldn’t be out here. Look, she’s already getting red.”
“She’s fine. You can’t keep her in a plastic bubble. She needs to get exposed to the elements and be like a normal kid, especially since nothing else about her life will be even remotely close to normal.”
Aisling smashes her fist into the water, splashing Matteo, and sure enough, the first place his hand goes to is his hair.
So fucking vain.
“Okay, so what gives?” I ask. “You’re not out here to tan. What, you don’t trust me with the kid?”
“I trust you more than anyone,” he says. “Or at least, I did until you came back here and told me you couldn’t close the deal in Brooklyn.”
“I said someone beat me to it.” I smirk. “That deal is most definitely closed.”
“But you didn’t tie up loose ends. Or stuff shit down the throats of loose cannons,” he grumbles.
“No,” I say. “You’re right. Conor is still at large with his wide fucking pie hole open.”
“We need to find out what the hell he’s up to, Dante,” Matteo says, dropping his voice.
“Look, I know you think shit will blow our way, but will it really? I mean, with Vigo dead, maybe the debt will be cleared. Besides everyone knows Heaven has been on the outside for a long time. Why come for her?”
“You of all people should know how these people operate. They go after everything and everyone.” He shakes his head. “I’ve got a hell of a lot to protect, and I don’t want any of Conor’s scams to rain hellfire down on us, especially if Volkov thinks Conor may have been the one to kill Vigo.”
Hellfire.
There’s that word again.
Makes me think of Anya.
She was hellfire.
I could see it.
I could feel it.
And fuck, I could taste it.
But I also need to forget about it. There’s a bigger fish named Conor I’d love to gut before frying him. That’s the only way I get my life back.
Matteo would second that death sentence, that’s for sure.
He’s hated Conor ever since the guy tried to kill Heaven right before their wedding, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s her blood, I know for a fact that Matteo would have had him sunk to the bottom of the Hudson without a second thought.
But much as Heaven despises him, she’d never want her family to suffer that loss.
To me, it’d be a gain, but hey.
Not my family. Not my call.
“That’s why you have me. You know I’ll do anything to protect this girl. And then once we’ve taken care of the ‘problem’, I go back to what I do best,” I say, lifting her into the air and dipping her toes into the water only to bring her back out again. She loves playing this game.
Matteo’s expression darkens slightly, but before he has a chance to respond, a smooth female voice croons into my ear as a tanned, lithe body sinks to the step beside me.
“Your baby is so cute.”
Evidently, the water-toe game makes a lot of fans.
“Thanks, but she’s not mine,” I say, nodding at Matteo. “She’s my brother’s.”
Her eyes brighten up at that. “Oh, so…you guys aren’t together, then,” she murmurs, sliding closer.
“Most definitely not.”
Matteo snorts. “What, like I’m not a good catch?”
I shrug. “I need someone who’s less vain about their hair than I am.”
The girl giggles and twists so I have a full view of her tits.
Jesus, Aisling is like a homing device or something.
The cocktail waitress struts over, shaking her ass in a more exaggerated way than she was when she left with my order. And I can’t be sure, but I think she just mouthed “Die, bitch,” to the girl sitting next to me. I bite back a smile as she ‘politely’ shoves the girl away with a quick little shoulder move.
Damn, she’s territorial.
I’m thinking she may pee on me next, you know, to really get her point across.
“Here you go, Mr. Villani,” the waitress croons in a seductive voice, handing me the tall glasses. I pass one over to Matteo and pull out a fifty-dollar chip from the pocket of my board shorts and drop it on her tray.
She shoots one final glare at the intruder before swiveling around and stalking away from us.
I pick up one of the glasses and hold it out to the girl, but before she has a chance to take it, it’s swiped right out of my hand.
“That looks good,” my sister-in-law Heaven says, taking a long sip and letting out a moan.
“You know, your husband has one of his own,” I say. “Why’d you go for mine?”
She gives a pointed look to the girl. “Because I was trying to save you, pumpkin,” she says in a very fucking fake-sounding voice.
“Do I look like I need saving?” I hiss at her. The girl’s lips twist and she jumps up, taller than Heaven by about six inches.
“There’s no need to be so rude,” she snips, creeping toward Heaven, her arms folded against her chest. “But then again, if I was wearing that kind of getup out here, I’d be pretty crabby, too,” she says, pointing at Heaven’s sundress.
Okay, it’s not really so much a sundress as maybe a muumuu.
Heaven is extremely sensitive about her post-baby body. I don’t dare tell her that getting up in the middle of the night with Aisling doesn’t have to mean that both of them get a yummy snack.
For nine months, she had chocolate soft-serve ice cream with butterscotch sauce three times a day. It became a new food group for her, and I guess she hasn’t lost the taste for it.
And this girl literally just took her life in her own hands when she made that crack at Heaven’s wardrobe choice.
I’m kinda interested to see how far it goes before I need to step in.
Heaven gasps, recoiling with that drink still clutched in her hand. “Excuse me from trying to protect my brother-in-law from some almost-naked slut who can’t even keep her tits in her bathing suit top! I mean, there are children out here!” she yells, waving her hand around her. “And you are clearly a gold-digging whore!”
The girl swings out her hand, I guess in an attempt to slap Heaven.
That’s just stupid right there because what she doesn’t anticipate is Heaven grabbing her wrist and bending it back so hard, it’s on the brink of snapping.
That’s exactly what she does, too.
See? So not fucking normal.
My poor niece.
“Whoa,” I say, jumping up from the ledge of the pool. The girl is screaming bloody murder, and a few security guys are hurrying over.
I peel Heaven’s hand off of the girl’s wrist and she glares at me.
“I was in the middle of something, thank you very much!”
The girl clutches her wrist. “You’re a crazy fucking bitch!” she shrieks. But she hightails it away from us as quickly as she can.
I’m clearly not worth the potential for bodily harm.
Eh.
I’ve already got a girl.
She’s easy to please, too, and happy to be flailing around in the pool. She’s got no idea her mother just committed assault.
“Heaven, babe, you can’t just go around attacking people like that,” Matteo says.
“The fuck I can’t!” she bellows. “That skank called me fat! What was I supposed to do?”
“Is everything alright here, Mr. and Mrs. Villani?” One of the security guards asks as he approaches. “Looks like there was a bit of a commotion.”
I bite back a smirk. He knows all too well what the commotion was all about. Hell, I think everyone on staff knows that Heaven’s Irish temper rages even hotter when she’s on zero sleep, as is the case these days.
“Yes, everything is just fine, Jimmy. Thank you for checking,” she says with a smile, looking calmer than I’ve seen her look in months. It may be forced, but she’s doing a good job of convincing him to the point where he nods and gives her a little salute before retreating back to his post.
She lets out a deep sigh and sinks down next to Matteo and Aisling. She smiles and coos at her daughter, taking her into her arms and nuzzling her neck.
The mood swings. Fuck. I don’t know how Matty handles it.
Heaven is brutal, even when she’s running on a full night’s sleep.
And today was tame compared to most other days.
Matteo drops a kiss on the top of her head. “You aren’t fat. You’re perfect and gorgeous. Stop being so hard on yourself. You just need sleep. And maybe a couple of Valium.”
She snickers. “Thanks, babe. And yes, I do need to sleep, so badly. I feel like we’re really close this time, but I don’t want to jinx anything.”
“Really close to what?” I ask, lounging on the side of the pool with my sweaty glass in hand. The ice is all but gone, and I’ve had it for a grand total of a minute. God, this heat is unreal. I mean, it makes for some pretty nice views of the female guests, but other than that?
There’s no benefit.
But Heaven insists on staying. I think being so far away from New York City helps her deal with the fact that she’s still estranged from most of her family. Separating herself from them by about five hours makes it easier to deal with than living in the same zip code.
I rub the back of my neck with the cool glass. She doesn’t look to be in the mood to talk about her family right now, either. I seriously hope Matteo picks another time to loop her into the Conor shit show. I’m afraid assault might be the least of our concerns if she finds out Conor has been dicking around with the Russians.
“Really close to finding an au pair,” she says. “Didn’t Matteo tell you we’ve been interviewing for weeks?”
“He might have mentioned something,” I say, a shred of a memory of a conversation making the connection in my mind. “So, what, you hire this au pair thing, and you get to sleep?”
“Sleep and a whole lot more!” Heaven says, excitedly clapping her hands, making Aisling laugh.
“I’m down for the ‘whole lot more,’” Matteo says with a grin.
“The girl I’ve been with for the past hour is really terrific. I think she’s a fantastic choice and I brought her up here because I want you to meet her, too. And of course, Aisling needs to meet her,” she says to Matteo.
I crane my neck. “I don’t see anyone. What happened? She get lost or something? Maybe your au pair needs an au pair herself,” I crack.
Heaven rolls her eyes. “She needed to use the ladies’ room. I talked her ear off and walked her all over the hotel for the past hour.”
“Whatever you need to get you back to normal,” I say with a playful smirk as Heaven flips me off. “Real nice mothering, by the way.”
Heaven jumps up and waves her hands in the air. “Anya! We’re over here!”
Cue the record scratch sound effect.
My eyes travel in the direction Heaven is standing and I feel my chest tighten. I’m suddenly pulled into one of those movie sequences where the sexy-as-fuck girl walks toward her destination in slow motion while every other person stares with their mouths open, her hair flowing behind her, her hips swinging in the most seductive way imaginable.
Anya…the au pair?
No fucking way.
This can’t be the same girl I drove to the Bellagio.
She was hot, but this version?
Jesus. She’s transformed herself into the exact type of nanny you don’t want around your husband.
Long, lean legs that were covered by yoga pants are now on full display under a little sundress, probably not the most nanny-ish thing to wear to an interview, but I’m not complaining. Neither is any other man drooling over the sight of her. And the messy ponytail from the airport has been replaced with loose, sexy waves that cascade down her back.
To my brother’s credit, he just hands Heaven the baby, nods stiffly, and shakes Anya’s hand when Heaven makes the introductions.
Heaven is a definite stunner, but Matty would have to be dead to not notice the girl in front of him.
“Here is our little pumpkin, Aisling,” Heaven says, snuggling the baby close as Anya tickles her under the chin, a big, bright smile on her face.
Interesting.
She’s got no patience for old ladies, but bring on the babies?
Anya definitely didn’t strike me as the ‘mommy’s helper’ type.
I could see her more suited to the ‘daddy’s fluffer’ category.
“And this is my brother-in-law, Dante,” Heaven says to Anya, waving her hand toward me.
I watch as recognition seeps into her features, her cheeks a little more pink than they were a few seconds ago. I sweep my eyes over her, from the polished red toenails to the hint of boob peeking out from the neckline of her dress, my lips lifting as she forces a smile at me.
“Nice to see you…again,” she says in a tight voice.
I can tell she’s wondering whether or not I’m going to tell my brother and sister-in-law that I had my tongue down her throat less than two hours ago.
Not.
Heaven wouldn’t be thrilled to know that her au pair’s hands were all over me earlier.
I’m not stupid.
I want her to get this job.
My cock aches for her to get this job.
So fucking hard.
Forget Brooklyn Red Dress-slash-Death.
This has nothing to do with loose ends needing tying.
This has to do with pure, unadulterated lust.
And, damn, it’s choking me right now like a noose wrapped tight around my neck.
I can deal with a little caregiving myself.
I just hope Aisling is a good sharer.