Amore - Part 2, Page 3

  His eyes hold mine and he reaches out, taking a strand of my hair and twirling it with his finger before gently tucking it behind my ear. My body aches—my heart mostly. I keep my expression neutral, but it’s nearly impossible. His finger trails from my ear down my cheek and drops to the dip in my neck. My skin prickles, and I want to scream at my body for being so weak against this man.

  “Can you please drop me back to the hospital now?” I say, shifting away from his touch.

  His eyes drop to my mouth. “Take us back to the hospital,” he calls to the driver.

  We say nothing as we drive back. When we stop, I open the door without looking back at Rafael. “Think about my offer, cara.”

  The way he says that, the low purr of his voice. . .

  My body thrums. “Good afternoon, Rafael,” I murmur, climbing out and slamming the door.

  I honestly don’t know if I’m strong enough to deal with this.

  CHAPTER 4

  “You didn’t tell me you saw Rafael.”

  It’s been two days since Rafael pulled me into his car and offered to have me become his lover again, but I’d decided against telling Riccardo. He doesn’t need to know every part of my life.

  Apparently, though, he knows it anyway. He’s sitting in my living room, his legs crossed, his cigar clouding my living area with smoke.

  “I have a baby,” I snarl. “Put that out.”

  He takes another puff, blowing a smoke ring. Then he crushes it out in a coffee mug on a nearby table.

  “Answer me,” he orders.

  I shrug. “He pulled up outside of the hospital, asked me to become his lover again—that was it. Nothing important.”

  “Everything Rafael says is important, and every interaction needs to be immediately reported to me.”

  I clench my jaw, but say nothing.

  “Are we clear?”

  “Crystal,” I hiss. “Now get out of my apartment.”

  “He attends a poker game every Thursday night at a local club. You’re going to be at that club with your friend Celia when he comes out. You’re going to be flirting with a man, I don’t care who. I need to get his blood boiling a little before you finally accept his proposition.”

  “Seriously? Rafael is far too classy to get jealous.”

  Riccardo grins. “You’re wrong. He takes what he believes is his very seriously.”

  I huff.

  “Do as you’re told, Julietta. I’ll have an assistant come past to take you shopping for something a little . . . sexier than your current attire as well as something that will flatter your post pregnancy body.”

  I cross my arms. “I have plenty of sexy clothes.”

  “Well, now you’ll have more.”

  “You’re an arrogant jerk.”

  He shrugs. “I’ll send details. Have a good rest of your day.”

  God I hate him.

  I wait for him to leave, then pull out my phone and dial Celia. “Looks like you and I are going clubbing.”

  This should be interesting.

  ~*~*~*~

  The club we go to is sophisticated—no drunks running around, no people getting it on on the dance floor. It’s all class. People are dressed well. The drinks are fancy. Celia and I make our way to the bar where we take a seat. Riccardo assured me Rafael would be lingering and would see me, but I need to avoid looking around. He honestly thinks I’m stupid.

  Jerk-off.

  “I can’t believe he’s making you do this,” Celia mutters, sipping from one of the glasses of Cosmo in front of her that have just been served to us.

  “I know,” I mumble. “As if I’m not already missing enough time with my son, I get sent in here to chase Rafael Lencioni around like some desperate hooker.”

  She giggles, and we clink glasses. I struggled to breastfeed and with Riccardo’s erratic demands, it was easier to put Ajax on formula. Another thing these pricks took away from me and my baby.

  “So what? You’re just supposed to pick some poor bastard and flirt with him?”

  I frown. “Apparently. God, I sucked at flirting before Rafael—I can only imagine how awful I am at it now.”

  “Do you think he’ll even care?” she asks, training her pretty eyes on me.

  I keep my expression hard, even though a tiny piece of me hopes he will care, even just a little. “I don’t care if he does or he doesn’t. I’m just doing what I have to.”

  “Fair enough. Well, let’s find the lucky man.”

  She glances around and her eyes stop on something behind me. I’m facing her on my bar stool, so I swivel around and gasp at, what is, without a doubt, one of the most incredible-looking males I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Outside of Raf, of course. He’s got the same strong dominance and hard features. The kind of man you think twice before messing with.

  He’s sporting an expensive suit but has the jacket off. His white button-up shirt is rolled at the sleeves, and he’s wearing a red tie. His skin is the softest kind of olive and his hair is dark and messy. He has stubble on his cheeks, indicating it’s been a few days since he’s shaved.

  When he looks to me, my eyes get bigger. Wow. He has the most incredible eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re darker than Raf’s, which is saying something. I could swear they’re black.

  I shiver.

  He studies me, and I suddenly feel extremely conscious about myself. Is my dress sitting right? Is my hair neat? Do I look okay? What do I even care? I’m not here to find a man; I’m here to make one jealous. This man would certainly do that. Oh. Yes. He would.

  “Hi,” I squeak.

  His eyes scan over my face, and he leans in closer on his bar stool. “Marcus.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Marcus. And you are?”

  Marcus. That’s his name. Hot.

  “Ah, Julietta.”

  His eyes flash, and he nods. “Would you care to have a word with me outside, Julietta?”

  My heart pounds. “What?”

  “Outside. A word.”

  I’m completely lost, so I throw sass, because it’s the only thing I know for sure I’m good at when a situation gets sticky.

  “Are you going to murder me? Because I might look small, but I am a seriously good fighter.”

  His lips twitch. “If I was going to murder you, I wouldn’t tell you about it first.”

  “Technically,” I point out, “you didn’t tell me about it. You asked me to go outside and that could mean many, many things. One being murder.”

  Another lip twitch. “I want to have a word about Rafael.”

  I blink. “Pardon me?”

  “You’re his Julietta, am I correct?”

  His Julietta.

  His.

  “I’m nobody’s,” I snap.

  He grins now. God. I’m about to fall out of my chair from his beauty. “I can see why he’s taken with you. A word?”

  I turn to Celia, who’s staring at him with big eyes. “I won’t be long. If I don’t return in ten minutes, his name is Marcus . . .?” I turn back to him and nod my head, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

  He grins and murmurs, “Tandem.”

  I look back to Celia. “His name is Marcus Tandem, and if I’m not back in ten he’s probably murdered me. You should call the police.”

  Her eyes are still wide. She nods.

  I stand and wave a hand in the direction of the doors. “After you.”

  He stands.

  He’s tall. Really freaking tall.

  And built.

  Hot.

  “No,” he says, his voice low and deep. “After you.”

  Oh boy.

  I take a shaky step forward.

  This is it, make it or break it.

  CHAPTER 5

  “So,” I say when Marcus and I get outside, “what’s so important you couldn’t talk to me in that club?”

  Marcus leans against the wall and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it. He just keeps getting hotter. It should be illegal. Someone need
s to mess up his face a little. It’s unfair to the rest of the world.

  “I heard you and your friend talking in there.”

  “Eavesdropping is rude, Mr. Tandem. Didn’t you know?”

  He grins. “I’m fully aware. But Rafael is a very old, very loyal friend of mine, and I couldn’t help but perk up when his name was mentioned.”

  My heart pounds as I try to recall every single word of Celia and my conversation. I can’t risk Rafael finding out, dammit, I can’t. How much did Marcus hear?

  I have to play it cool. Maybe he only got snippets.

  “You said you were doing what you had to do, and something about him being jealous. Care to tell me what that’s about?”

  “Are you going to kill me if I do?”

  His eyes flicker to me. “I may have to.”

  I cross my arms. “Just know I have a very serious fly kick and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “God,” he mutters. “You’d get along extremely well with my wife.”

  He’s got a wife.

  Of course he’s got a wife.

  She’s probably epic.

  “Does she fly kick you often?”

  His eyes dance with humor. “You’re avoiding the subject.”

  “Look, it was just Celia and I being . . . bratty. I’m sure you know who I am. I’m sure you know what I was to Rafael and because of that, you’d know I fucked up and fell in love with him. He dumped me. I just wanted to get a little revenge.”

  Marcus studies me. Can he see through my lie?

  “So you thought you’d make him jealous?”

  I shrug casually.

  “You’re a terrible liar. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  I flinch.

  His face softens. “Is someone making you do something you don’t want to?”

  “No,” I say, my voice strong and stern. “I just told the truth.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Look, I know what a girl in distress looks like —believe me, I’ve seen plenty. I also know the things people can use against another person to force them to keep their mouths shut. I just want you to know, whoever is blackmailing you to mess with Rafael can be handled.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He exhales and pulls out a business card from his pocket. “I don’t believe you. I would like to hope you’re not putting my friend in danger. I would also like to hope whoever has your eyes that afraid isn’t putting you in danger. If you want help or protection, call me. I can give it.”

  With shaky fingers, I take the card. “Thanks, but I’m fine. I was just being a brat.”

  He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you always wash in baby soap, or have you just decided you like the smell?”

  It takes everything inside me not to reach down to my dress and breathe in the smell of baby soap that I have been using to wash all the clothes. It has a distinct smell. Like soap flakes, and lavender, and baby. Anyone who’s ever had a child would know the smell. Anybody who doesn’t have a child simply wouldn’t buy it. I didn’t even know what it was until I had Ajax.

  I open my mouth.

  Nothing comes out.

  He knows.

  “You’re not alone, Julietta. Whoever is hurting you, he or she can be taken away. Think about that.” He turns, striding into the darkness, but stops and turns before he completely disappears. “What’s the baby’s name?”

  My bottom lip trembles and a tear rolls down my cheek. “Ajax,” I whisper.

  He laughs. “Clever girl. Be well, Julietta.”

  Then he’s gone.

  Just like that.

  ~*~*~*~

  I drink five Cosmos. Way too quickly.

  I don’t need courage to flirt; my drunken behavior does plenty enough for me. After my run-in with Marcus, I needed to take my mind off panicking about the entire situation. Because I am. He figured it out, just like that. Now he knows, will he say something to Rafael? If he does, I’m screwed. My family will be put in danger. My baby. I can’t even think about it.

  I feel like I can trust him. I only hope I’m right.

  “You’re such a pretty girl.”

  I stare up at the man I’m dancing with. His hands are on my hips and honestly, I’ve barely even taken note of him. I’m thankful that he is attractive. He could be a damned beast, and in my state of mind, I wouldn’t have noticed. Rafael would never have believed me if he saw that.

  Grateful I picked a man who’s totally in my league, I smile up at him. “What’s your name again?”

  He blinks. Yeah, he’s probably never met a girl like me. “Chris.”

  “Right,” I mutter. “Chris. I’m not interested in taking you home. To be honest, I’m only dancing with you to make someone jealous.”

  He blinks again.

  “Sorry, I’m forward, I know that.” I laugh, more to myself than anything. “It’s just how I am. But hey, think yourself lucky. You get to put your hands on my hips and dance with me for nothing, right?”

  He just stares at me. Yeesh. Chris might be cute, but he certainly isn’t all there.

  “How’re you doing, honey?” Celia dances with a man next to me. She has somehow managed to get close enough for me to hear her.

  I smile at her. “Aside from making poor Chris here confused, rather well.”

  She nods. I laugh.

  Chris keeps his hands on my hips until a booming voice radiates through the crowd, cutting through the music and causing Chris and I to stop moving.

  “Hands off her, right now.”

  Chris glances over my shoulder. His face pales, and his hands drop. “You’re trying to make Rafael jealous?” he gasps. “Rafael Lencioni?”

  I snort. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. He won’t do anything.”

  Chris turns and scurries out before I get another word in. Chicken shit.

  I glance at Rafael who storms through the crowd that happily steps aside for him.

  “Julietta,” he growls, his voice low.

  Celia stares at him with an astonished look. Yeah, I used to stare at him like that too.

  “Rafael,” I say, my body comfortably numb from the alcohol.

  “Is there a reason you’re in here throwing yourself all over another man?”

  I shrug. “I was bored.”

  “Bored,” he says, his voice an icy whip.

  “Yes, Rafael, bored. I don’t owe you any more than that. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I go to take a step forward but he swoops in, dropping his shoulder into my stomach and launching me up and over his shoulder. I bite back a slight groan from the pain of the pressure against my sore post-pregnancy body. Instead, I squeal as he carries me effortlessly. My tiny body hangs over his shoulder as if I’m nothing more than a bag of feathers. He strides towards the back of the club and people stop and stare, their mouths agape.

  We reach a back room and he opens the door. There is a group of men playing poker inside, but he barks, “Out.”

  They stand, scurrying out without hesitation. When they’re gone, Rafael shuts and locks the door before throwing me down onto the poker table and bringing his body down over mine. Oh boy. My entire frame jerks back to life and he’s right there, in my space, smelling so incredible.

  “What kind of game are you playing?” he growls.

  I stare at him, because what else am I supposed to do when his mouth is so close? I could probably lick him, he’s so near.

  “Answer me!” he barks.

  My mouth opens.

  Nothing comes out.

  He takes my hands in one of his and slams them above my head, sliding his hard cock against my sex. Dammit. This is not the position to be in.

  “Now, Julietta,” he orders.

  “I was, I, ah . . .”

  He rotates his hips, and the friction has my sex roaring to life. It throbs beneath his touch.

  “I was just dancing,” I squeak.

  “No one,” he growls, leaning in close, “no one touche
s what is mine.”

  “I’m not yours,” I spit.

  He grinds again, and a whimper slips past my lips. It feels so good. It’s not supposed to feel good. Dammit. I’m not supposed to feel anything.

  My mind snaps back into action and I snap, “Get off me.”

  “No.”

  “Now, Rafael.”

  His brows shoot up, and he grinds against me again. If he keeps that up, I’ll come, and that will not bode well for either of us. “Since when do you make the orders?”

  “Since you’re nothing to me, and I’m a free woman. Now get off me.”

  “I said,” he leans in close, so close I can taste him if I licked my lips, “no.”

  “Dammit, Rafael,” I cry, exasperated. “Stop being such a dick.”

  He grins.

  So perfect.

  “I see the alcohol has brought out the sass I’ve missed so much.”

  “Get off me.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “I swear . . .”

  He grinds against me again, and I moan. I moan. Like a weak, pathetic female.

  “What?” he murmurs, rotating his hips.

  Dammit.

  I will come like this.

  “Get. Off,” I grind out.

  “In a minute,” he says, his voice low and sexy.

  He rotates again.

  It feels so good.

  God.

  He does it again, and again, and again.

  I can’t stop it. It’s been so long, I’m drunk, and he feels so damned good. I come with a gasp of air puffing out past my lips and a whimper that I feel right down into my belly. Rafael makes a satisfied growling sound in his chest and then carefully releases me.

  Shame unlike anything I’ve felt before rises to my cheeks, and I look anywhere but at him.

  “Do not try to make me jealous with other men,” he says, his voice husky. “You’re mine. The sooner you realize that, the better. I will have you in my bed again, Julietta. And we both know that’s exactly where you want to be.”

  I keep looking away.

  “I’ll tell Celia where you are.” With that, he leaves.

  A tear rolls down my cheek.

  I’m not strong enough for this.

  Dammit, I’m not.

  CHAPTER 6

  “Did it work?”