Chapter 2
DANTE
Yes. Her.
She may have bumped into me, but it’s me who fell.
She’s it for me. Everything. I had no idea I could feel like this. I love my family, I respect and honour my people in my role as the mafia boss of Clerkenwell. I’ve fucked women, although not recently. The novelty of having women just because of my power and money wore off years ago.
But this girl… When you know, you know.
In her denim shorts and vest top, with her serious big brown eyes. I’ve never wanted to make someone laugh, but I’d like to see all the sweet emotions from this little hairdresser.
“I can’t do that,” she continues.
“It’s not a bad idea,” my sister, Lucia, says thoughtfully.
“Good. We have an official dog whisperer,” I say. “It’s…” I turn to the girl I ran into.
“Ruby?” Her voice lifts as though questioning if I could possibly mean her.
“Ruby.” So that’s the name that will haunt my dreams and my half-waking hours. Be the name that I moan when I’m stroking my cock in the shower. Ruby. A vibrant, precious jewel. It suits her.
Tesorina. Little treasure.
“Ruby will take over the role of ring bearer’s minder, leaving Amber to focus on keeping her food regrets where they belong,” I say.
Francesca stifles a laugh, and Amber groans, but agrees, “That’s probably a good idea.”
“I’m just the hairdresser, junior hairdresser,” Ruby stammers.
“We’ll pay any extra necessary so you can look after Al Poochino.” Bloody stupid name for a dog. I turn back to my niece. “Your friends will still be able to be in the photos, but won’t have to manage your mutt.”
“He’s not a mutt, Uncle Dante,” Francesca protests.
“He’s a cheese addicted menace,” I reply.
“So are you,” my sister mutters.
“Not as hairy, and I know how to use indoor plumbing.” I do like cheese though, and many of my enemies would agree about menace, so I don’t deny it.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Ruby says tentatively.
“You can handle a dog, can’t you?” I know she can.
She’s smart and kind, and I’m going to take ruthless advantage of that kindness to both help my niece have the wedding she imagined, and also have Ruby near me.
I have the strongest need to keep Ruby close, and this little disaster provides a perfect excuse.
“Yes, but—”
“Then it’s an excellent idea.” Just for today. One day wouldn’t be wrong.
Much.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” she finishes.
“Don’t worry about that,” Lucia says, throwing open a wardrobe.
“We brought extras of the bridesmaids’ dresses because Amber couldn’t decide whether she wanted a halter neck or strapless.
Here.” She snatches the dress up and looks Ruby up and down.
“Can you do your own hair? I’ll send the makeup artist to you as soon as—”
“I’ll manage!” Ruby assures her, and her gaze flicks over to me. But instead of the curious and fearful glances that I get from most people for the tattoos that I covered myself with when I was in my late teens and early twenties, she looks at me with something more like admiration.
It’s unfamiliar, and I remind myself that she’s far too sweet for someone like me. But apart from discreet security, this wedding has none of my mafia presence, at Lucia’s insistence. It’s a bit odd with only a dozen of my men here, since I take my family’s safety very seriously.
I’m glad of Lucia’s decree now. It means instead of Ruby knowing I’m a dangerous mafia boss, I’m just the uncle of the bride. The only objection to me flirting with the stand-in maid-of-honour is my being twice her age. And indirectly her employer.
No problem.