Chapter 9
9
O nce inside, I wasted no time. Spotting Enzo alone near the bar, I squared my shoulders and tried to walk like he did—long, confident strides with purpose. When I reached him, I tapped his shoulder, and he turned.
“You made it.” His eyes traveled down my body and back up again.
“Did you doubt me?”
A hint of a smile. “Not for a moment. Follow me.” He led me toward the far right wall, where a tall, stern-faced guard stood in front of a red curtain. He nodded at Enzo before allowing us to slip behind it.
The sound of the music receded as we walked down a dim corridor. The air smelled like cigar smoke, and I heard laughter and shouting behind several closed doors, each of them guarded. At the end of the corridor, I followed him up two flights of stairs. From there we entered the paneled hallway I recognized from Saturday night, and I knew he was leading me to Angel’s office. My heart tripped faster, and I ransacked my brain for the right words to say as I handed Angel an envelope that was six hundred dollars short. Should I admit it up front? Should I accuse them of stealing my business? Should I trade the information I had about the River Gang planning a heist of their rum? The thought of betraying Joey made bile rise in my throat, but I was on my own. I had to do whatever it took to protect my family.
The door was open but guarded by two men, and Enzo gestured for me to enter first. Angel sat behind the desk, and at the sight of it, my stomach flipped repeatedly, like a coin through the air. Three nights ago, Enzo had set me on it and stood between my knees, loosening his collar. What I wouldn’t give to be in that moment instead of this one.
“Good evening, Miss O’Mara. Please sit.” Angel rose to his feet as I approached. Big Time Raymond stood in a corner and had the nerve to wink at me.
I sat stiffly on the edge of a chair and placed the envelope on the desk.
“Enzo?” Without taking his eyes off me, Angel indicated his older son should take the money. When Raymond stepped forward and tried to take the envelope, Angel snatched it out of his reach. “I said Enzo. Count this.”
Enzo came from behind me to take the envelope while Raymond retreated to the corner and sulked. “He always gets the money. He’s probably skimming,” he mumbled.
“Raymond, please.”
“I’m sick of him bossing me. When’s it my turn to —”
“Never,” Enzo interrupted. He fell silent, presumably counting the cash.
I braced myself for the discovery, my heart like gunfire in my ears.
“It’s all here.”
Huh? I whipped my head around to stare at him, my mouth open. The envelope and cash were hidden somewhere already.
“May I offer you something?” Enzo asked, his face impassive. “A drink? Some champagne perhaps? ”
“Don’t let her say no, Enzo.” Angel walked over to the sideboard laid out with glassware and bottles of booze.
“No, thank you.” My voice shook. What the hell kind of game was Enzo playing? He refuses to help me, he steals business from me —now he covers for me?
154
“Nonsense,” said Angel. “I have the best champagne in town, the real thing. Imported from France.”
“She prolly never drank shampoo before,” said Raymond, lumbering out of the corner.
“Champagne,” Enzo corrected. “No more talking out of you.”
Angel popped the cork, the noise startling me. He poured three glasses, handed one to me and one to Enzo, and kept the third for himself.
“Hey, Pop, what about me?”
“Go ask Matilda to cook me a steak dinner, Raymond. Rare. I’m ravenous.”
“But how come?—”
“Now, please.”
Raymond shot his brother and father a nasty look as he left the room. Angel raised his glass. “A toast. To Miss O’Mara. I’m most impressed.” He sipped his champagne and stared at me. After an uncomfortable pause, I sipped mine too, the bubbles fizzing down my throat. It tasted so good, I took three more quick swallows.
“Now,” Angel continued, returning to his chair. “I’ve got business to attend to. Enzo will escort you back to the club, where I hope you and your companion will enjoy the evening.”
“I believe she’s unattended tonight,” said Enzo.
Angel regarded me. “A pretty girl like you?”
“Yes,” I said, getting to my feet. My mind was still spinning. “Uh, I want to ask about my father.”
“What about him?” Angel’s eyebrows rose.
“Is he all right? ”
“He will be very glad to know you paid me tonight, and even gladder once you bring me the rest of the money on Friday.”
My heart stopped. “Friday?” I repeated in disbelief.
“Friday.” His tone was final, and his stare told me not to argue.
I was tempted to gulp down the rest of my champagne, but I left the half-drunk glass on the desk and headed for the door. Enzo followed me down the hall and into the stairwell, saying nothing as we descended one flight. His silence was maddening. Was he not going to offer an explanation? What the hell was he thinking? Finally I couldn’t stand it any longer.
I whirled to face him. “Why did you lie?”
He went around me and continued down the steps, and I clambered after him, grabbing his arm.
“Why did you lie? The money wasn’t all there.”
He met my eyes. “Because I’m not ready for this to end. Not tonight.”
I swallowed. Not ready for what to end? Was he talking about the kidnapping or something between us? “Then why wouldn’t you agree to help me before?”
One side of his mouth rose. “That wouldn’t have been any fun.”
I dropped his arm. “This is fun for you?”
“Well, certain parts of it are fun.” He came up one step so that his face hovered near mine. “Don’t you think?”
I can’t think with you so close to me. His dark eyes glittered, and I forgot all about ransom money, whisky, and deadlines. My breath came faster, and I felt the silk of my dress whispering across the tight, hard peaks of my breasts. Enzo lowered his gaze to watch my chest rising and falling. Then, meeting my eyes again, he lifted one hand and slowly brushed the back of his fingers over one taut nipple, poking visibly through the thin bodice of Rosie’s dress. Desire sparked at the center of me and zipped through my veins like fire along a fuse.
But I wouldn’t explode.
I can play this game too. With one hand I reached for the button of his coat. Slipped it through the hole. Without breaking the stare, I ran the back of my hand down the front of his trousers in the same deliberate way. But I didn’t stop there—I turned my hand over and slowly moved my palm up and down, enjoying the way he sucked in his breath, the way he swayed toward me, unsteady on his feet. The way I could feel his flesh growing beneath my touch. Now who has the power?
I brought my lips close to his. “We should get back,” I said softly as I stroked him. “Someone is waiting for you.”
“Fuck,” Enzo whispered, eyes closing.
My thoughts exactly.
I stepped to the side and continued down the stairs without him.
When I had cleared the curtain into the main room, I stopped for a second, bracing myself against the back of a chair. Oh my God. It felt as if steam would rise from my skin, I was so hot. I need to get out of here. Not only was I in danger of losing complete control if Enzo and I were alone again, I had to find out what happened to Joey and tell him about the rum shipment tomorrow night.
I saw Rosie at the bar and headed for her, smoothing my dress. “Hey.” I tapped her shoulder. “I’m leaving.”
She turned slightly, barely enough to make eye contact. “Oh. OK, see ya.” She was about to ignore me once more when her eyes went wide. “Criminy, who is that?”
I wasn’t surprised to hear Enzo’s voice in my ear seconds later. “Don’t go.” He placed a hand on the small of my back, sending heat buzzing down my legs. “I’ve decided you can’t leave. Is this a friend of yours? You should both join my party.”
“Sure we will,” said Rosie, turning her charm on Enzo. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Tiny? Will you stay?” It sounded like a question, but the way he pinned me with his eyes and pressed his fingers into my back made me feel differently.
Say no. Say no. “All right. But not for too long.”
He nodded to Rosie. “I’m Enzo DiFiore. You are?”
“Rosie LaChance,” she said sweetly. “A real pleasure to meet you, honey.”
“Ladies, follow me.” We trailed him to a group of tables at the front, where a group of young people sat drinking, smoking, and hollering at their friends on the dance floor. As we approached, the brown-haired smarty from earlier narrowed her eyes at us.
“Have a seat.” Enzo pulled out two empty chairs, and I lowered myself onto one, the smarty’s eyes burning holes in my skin.
“Who’s this, Enzo?” She had a voice like squeaky chalk on a slate.
“Ladies, this is Gina Meloni,” he said, gesturing to her. “And Gina, this is Tiny O’Mara and Rosie LaChance. Tiny is doing some business with my father. These girls are our guests tonight.”
Gina scowled at that. Rosie leaned over to me and winked. “Oooh. You’ve got competition.”
“Can I have a cigarette?” I asked her. She opened her purse, took out a silver cigarette case, and handed me one. Within seconds, Enzo leaned across the table to light it for me. I almost laughed when the little flame ignited between us. Then he lowered himself into the chair next to Gina and lit his own. I watched the first curl of smoke escape his lips and crossed my legs. My thighs were damp.
“So, Tiny,” Gina squeaked, looking me over as if I smelled like rotten tomatoes. “What line of business are you in?”
I puffed on my cigarette and blew smoke in her direction. “Bootleg liquor. You interested?” Enzo’s lips tipped up slightly.
Gina smirked. “Ain’t we all?”
“Tiny’s father is a supplier for the club,” said Enzo. “She works for him.”
Gina’s painted eyebrows went up. “Oh yeah? A working girl, huh? I don’t know what I would do if I had to work. It sounds posi-lutely awful.”
“Lucky for you, your dad’s loaded,” piped up her friend, a skinny blond with an overbite. “And now you’ve got a sugar daddy.”
“He’s twenty-five, he’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy, Valerie,” scolded Gina.
“Right—your last one was a lot older.” They both giggled and Gina mouthed something to Valerie behind her hand. Jesus, was this high school or a nightclub? And why had he asked me to stay here, anyway? So he could keep an eye on me while he kept an arm around his girlfriend?
Bastard.
Throughout their exchange, Enzo watched me. We didn’t speak, but the shared knowledge of our secret kisses and caresses hummed between us like a conversation. It was enough to start up an aching throb between my legs. This is madness. He’s just looking at me —from across the damn table! But the longer I sat there watching him, the more I wanted him. I could still feel him thickening through his trousers in my palm. Was he hard now? Oh, God. I crossed my legs tighter and shifted in my seat, and just the friction of the movement and his penetrating stare nearly brought me to orgasm. Tapping my cigarette out in an ashtray on the table, I stood. “Thanks for the invitation to stay, but I really have to leave now.”
Immediately Enzo was on his feet. “I’ll walk you out.”
An unwelcome frisson of excitement shot up my spine.
Gina pouted, and he put a hand on her shoulder. “Order another round of drinks for everyone, and how about some oysters too? I know they’re your favorites.” She squealed and clapped her hands like a child while he placed his lit Fatima in the ashtray, as if he’d be back momentarily. Then the bastard leaned down and kissed her cheek.
Rosie barely glanced away from her mark and waved me off with a flip of the wrist. I trailed Enzo through the club and down the long hallway toward the heavy metal door. Our footsteps echoed on the tiles as the sound of the music receded.
The guard seated at the entrance nodded at Enzo and pressed a button, which unlocked the inner door. To my surprise, after opening it, Enzo followed me into the tiny vestibule. Then he let the door close, leaving us in the pitch-dark.
Silence.
Adrenaline shot through me as I waited for him to open the door to the stairwell. Instead, I heard the slam of a deadbolt.
“You don’t really want to leave, do you?” His voice was low and lilting.
He’s teasing me. “Yes. I do.”
“Liar.” He moved closer.
Every inch of my skin pricked with heat. “Look who’s calling who names. I can think of a few to call you, you know.”
His body met mine and he pressed my back into the brick wall. “So do it.”
I dropped my evening bag to the floor. “Thief.”
He took one wrist and pinned it above my head.
“Cheat,” I snarled.
He pinned the other across the first.
“Bastard.” The word lashed from my lips just before he kissed me, and I could have sworn it made him smile.
Out of my mind with desire, I kissed him hungrily, straining against him, desperate to have my arms free. But he held my wrists tight, torturing me with deep thrusts of his tongue between my lips. “Let me go,” I rasped when he dragged his mouth across my cheek and down my neck.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I want to touch you.”
He paused for a second before letting my right arm go. The left he kept pinned above my head.
“How’s that?”
Breathing hard, I swept my right hand up the inside of his leg and smiled—he was hard. I stroked him like I had in the stairwell, my pulse kicking up as he brought his mouth back to mine. Determined to have the real thing, I opened his coat, pulled his shirt from his trousers, and slipped enough buttons through their holes to slide my hand down against tight, hot skin. Wrapping my hand around his cock, I kept my grasp loose at first, allowing him to slip easily through my fingers. When I felt his breath coming harder and faster on my lips, I tightened my grip, further aroused by his moan of pleasure. His hold on my wrist weakened, and he braced himself against the wall. I’m doing this. I’m bringing him to this. The surge of power was intoxicating.
But just when I thought he was over the edge, Enzo pulled up my dress and hitched up my right leg, hooking my knee around his hip and holding it there. I had to throw my arms across his shoulders to stay balanced on the toes of my left foot. Our insatiable mouths came together again as his other hand snuck under the loose edge of my step-in. I gasped when he brushed the sensitive skin beneath the lace, and panted softly when he slipped one fingertip inside me. Shallow, feather-light strokes left me breathless and immobile. Clutching the back of his neck, I thought my left leg would give out with the unbearable pleasure of his touch. My breath stilled as he slid the fingertip up to rub the tiny spot that made my belly tighten and my legs tremble. His tongue slipped into my open mouth as his wet finger traced soft little circles. A divine pressure began building deep within me.
Oh my God oh my God oh my God...
“Still want to leave?” he asked.
“I’m going to scream,” I whimpered, fisting my hands in his coat.
He bit my lower lip. “Good.”
He wants me to scream. He wants me to lose control first. He wants all the power.
Summoning every ounce of strength I had, I dropped my leg to the floor and let go of him. “On second thought, I don’t think I’ll give you the satisfaction.” Because I was panting so hard, my words didn’t have quite the sting I wanted.
“Oh no? And why’s that?” He brought his arms to the wall again, boxing me in .
“Because this is all a game to you. And it’s my life.”
I waited for him to spout some nonsense about life being a game, but he didn’t. After a pause, he dropped his arms and backed off. Although I still couldn’t see anything, I sensed movement and figured he was buttoning his pants.
“I’ll pay you the six hundred dollars as soon as I get it.”
“Fine.”
“Are you going to tell your father I was short?” “Not tonight.”
My heart thumped an irregular beat. “What does that mean? You might tell him tomorrow?”
Enzo sighed. “I do a lot of things well, Tiny, which you would know if you ever let us finish what we start, but not even I am good at divining the future. I have no idea how I’ll feel about this tomorrow.”
Rage shook my body. “You can’t keep doing this! Kissing me one minute and then making threats the next! You went behind my back and stole Al Murphy’s business from me, making it impossible for me to get the ransom money, and tonight you play the hero?”
“It seems to me you’re playing some games of your own as well.” His tone had gone serious, and he threw the deadbolt with a loud, angry thwack. When he opened the outer door, streetlight spilled into our private little space. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I should get back to my table.”
I scooped up my purse where it had fallen and rushed up the steps two at a time. My heels clicked on the cement as I hurried through steam rising from the street without turning my head.
The metal door closed behind me with a bang.