Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Remi
“Where are we?” I marvel when we arrive at a palatial compound just outside the city.
“My family’s weekend house,” Angelo answers.
“Who owns a ‘house’ like this and only uses it on the weekend?” I marvel.
“It’s more convenient for me to be closer to work,” he says dismissively.
I examine Angelo’s side profile until he catches me staring. “What?” he asks.
“ Joie de vivre . You need more zest for life,” I inform him.
“Is this your professional psychic opinion?” He mocks.
I cross my arms. “Sorry. You had your chance at a palm reading, and you blew it by kidnapping me.”
“This isn’t a kidnapping,” he corrects me.
“Then what do you call flashing a gun, demanding I come with you, and taking me to the middle of nowhere?”
“A courtesy. A kidnapping would’ve been me snatching you off the street, tying you up, and tossing you in the back of a windowless van while you prayed for your life,” he says matter-of-factly.
A joke’s on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it, realizing he’s dead serious. “What kind of ‘businessman’ are you, Mr. Calvani?”
“The kind you shouldn’t trifle with, Ms. Landry.”
To my surprise, we drive past the mansion to a boat dock. A large vessel manned by a captain and crew awaits us. Fear courses through my veins as the SUV comes to a stop. “What are we doing here?”
“We’re taking out the boat.”
Not bothering to correct him—that’s a freaking yacht, not a boat—I say in a rush, “Have fun. I’ll hang here and watch television.” I fiddle with the screen mounted to the back of my seat. “How do you work this thing? Never mind, I’ll figure it out.”
My door’s opened, and I squeal as I’m yanked out by the driver and practically dragged down the dock.
“Wait!” I cry as I’m tossed aboard the yacht.
A crewman’s there to greet me, grabbing my arm and slamming me down on the bench seat.
My heart thuds frantically as Angelo climbs aboard, followed by the driver.
Something is exchanged in what I’m guessing is Italian, and the captain pulls away from the dock.
The sun’s beginning to set, and it would be lovely if I weren’t about to shit my pants.
We troll through the waters, eventually coming to a stop, with no land in sight. One of the crew members grabs a bag of mini marshmallows, and I’m beyond confused at what’s happening. He leans over and tosses a few in, making the water ripple as another crew member shines a flashlight.
It happens so fast, I don’t have time to scream; a gator surges out of the water with its jaws open. The huge creature smacks the water on the way back down with a violent splash.
“One of the most powerful bite forces in the animal kingdom, the American alligator,” Angelo comments. “Once those razor-sharp teeth clamp down on you, it’s nearly impossible to escape. Assuming you don’t drown by death roll.”
My body trembles as I swallow the lump in my throat.
The man beside me jerks me up, dragging me dangerously close to the edge of the boat.
“Wait! I’ll tell you whatever it is you want to know,” I beg, my voice bordering on hysterical.
“You will,” Angelo agrees. “And your honesty dictates whether or not you experience the strength of this gator’s bite force firsthand. Who hired you to work the gala?”
“No one,” I stammer, my body trembling like a leaf. “I’m a cannon. I work single O.”
“Layman’s terms,” he says impatiently.
“A pickpocket who works by herself. I’m skilled enough that I can pull off every part of what a team of pickpockets does together. For example, did you know your phone’s missing?”
Angelo pats his empty pocket, his eyes going wide.
I also couldn’t help myself; when I was scratching his beard with my left hand, I was stealing his phone with my right.
Reaching into my pocket, I hold his device over the water. “I go overboard, so does your phone.”
Angelo
Remi’s made a fool out of me twice now, and I should kill her for the disrespect, but I find myself laughing. “ Tutti sottocoperta ,” I command, and my men disappear inside the cabin.
“Come here, Remi.” I take a seat, patting the spot beside me.
“I think my odds are better with the gator.” She eyes me and then the water, but quickly concedes defeat as she hurries across the bow to join me.
“Where’s my money?” I snatch my phone from her nimble fingers, pocketing it in my interior jacket pocket.
“Ah ha! I guessed you were that man’s boss,” she says triumphantly. “It’s in my storage unit. Well, most of it. I did make a few necessary expenditures.”
“Necessary expenditures,” I repeat incredulously.
“Like paying for the storage unit,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Can’t leave that much cash lying around my apartment, not with my creepy landlord threatening to let himself in with his key.
Plus, I had to use some of the cash to pay rent, so I wouldn’t have to fuck his disgusting ass,” she says in a rush, and I see red.
“That reminds me, how long are you going to keep me prisoner? I need to get back and check on Nola.”
“Who’s Nola?” My mind’s still spinning from her first admission.
“My cat. But don’t tell her she’s a cat; she thinks she’s a person,” Remi says, her words a mile a minute. “So, are we going to pretend you didn’t just threaten to kill me?”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“Egyptian cotton high thread count and chamomile tea,” she spouts off.
“What?”
“What helps me sleep at night.”
I wrap my hand around her throat, her eyes going wide. “Remi.”
“Yes?” She licks her lips nervously, reminding me that I’ve had a taste. One that she hustled out of me. But my, how the tables have turned.
I yank her into my lap, us sharing the same breath.
“Stop talking.” My mouth claims Remi’s with the flick of my tongue, and those little mewls of hers only fuel my desire.
I want to punish Remi for being too damn clever for her own good.
To make her submit to me. To learn all her secrets and hold her hostage with them.
This silly witch dress is in the way, and with a frustrated growl, I grab it at the bodice and rip it clean in two. The gauzy material flutters to the deck as I pull back, taking in the slope of her breasts, her chest heaving.
“You owe me a dress,” she says breathlessly.
“Add it to your list of necessary expenditures.” I grab her lacy bra, yanking both cups down as her breasts jiggle out.
“Of course, these are perfect.” I groan, my eyes raking over her rosy, erect nipples.
Angling my head, I flick her right nipple with the point of my tongue, and the most sensual of moans escapes Remi’s mouth.
Needing unfettered access, I unhook her bra with one hand. It joins the discarded pile as I trace a small butterfly tattoo on her ribcage, her skin prickling in the night air.
No honor among thieves is written in fluttery script beneath it. “A motto?”
“A lesson.” Her once pliable body is now stiff as a board.
Remi
A lesson I would be wise to remember, present company included.
“What’s wrong?” Angelo asks.
I swing my leg to dismount from his lap. The man could stop me if he wanted to—and by the bulge in his designer suit pants, he wants to—but he lets me scramble off him.
“I need clothes,” I say, yanking up my bra, my cheeks flaming.
He shrugs out of his suit jacket and hands it over, and I slide my arms inside it.
The man threatened to feed me to a gator, and I wind up topless and tongue-fucking him? Something is seriously wrong with me.
Needing a distraction, I retrieve Angelo’s phone from his inside jacket pocket and turn on the home screen.
“This your daughter?” It’s a picture of a younger Angelo with a girl.
They favor each other with their olive skin and matching blue eyes, and the thought of him creating this adorable little girl with another woman has my stomach in knots. Which is fucking cray-cray.
As cray-cray as me nearly fucking the man who politely kidnapped me and threatened to turn me into a gator snack.
He jerks the phone away from me, angling his body so I can’t watch him unlock the screen.
Smart move.
He sends a message, pocketing his phone in his pants pocket on the other side of me. Hate to break it to him, but I could still swipe the device, even from this angle.
The men return from below deck, none of them making eye contact with me. I want to proclaim my innocence: I didn’t let him fuck me!
I mean, I almost did, but almost doesn’t count.
We’re silently piloted back to shore, where Angelo exits before me. He extends his hand, but I ignore it, taking an exaggerated step onto the dock. Keeping my chin up, I walk with as much pride as a woman wearing her underwear, a suit jacket, and combat boots can muster.
Angelo
Maks hangs back. “ Questa donna è un problema. ” This woman is trouble.
“ Forse ho bisogno di un po' di problemi nella mia vita .” Maybe I need a little trouble in my life , I find myself justifying my impulsive actions.
“Who are you?” My friend ribs.
I run a hand through my hair in frustration. Do I even fucking know?