Shadow Rider (32 page)

“It means,
bambina
, reporters are going to be crawling all over this hotel. No member of our neighborhood would ever give you up, so you should be safe at work, but don't walk the streets where you could be spotted. I'll take you down the private elevator to an entrance that only my family uses and no one has knowledge of. Emilio and Enzo will be waiting with a car. You do whatever they say when they say it.”

She walked barefoot over to the closet. Somehow her clothes had been transferred to the master bedroom sometime while she was at the club. She hadn't asked him about that, and now it seemed silly to do so. It had been presumptuous of him, but she was finding that Stefano was a very decisive and confident man. She liked having his eyes on her when she drew the sexy little boy shorts up her legs and settled them over her butt.

“Come here.”

Francesca shivered at the command in his voice. Low. Sexy. So arrogant. She loved that, too. Holding her bra in her hand, she crossed the room to stand in front of him. He wiggled his finger in a little circle and obediently she turned her back to him.

His hands slid over the curves of her butt. “I left my mark on your ass. I can see it right through the lace. That's so fucking sexy, Francesca, I want to take another bite out of you.” His hands stroked caresses over her bottom and then he touched several spots on her buttocks with his fingertips. When he pressed she knew exactly where each mark was. “I like my brand on you far too much,
bella
.”

She shivered, her nipples peaking as she slid the satin-soft bra around to cup her breasts. The lace caressed her skin. She loved his brand on her far too much as well, but telling him that would only encourage him. “I think you're a little primitive.”

“I'm okay with that.” He caught her hand as she turned to get her clothes. “Where the hell is your engagement ring?”

“I can't wear it to work.” She was horrified. “It's worth a car or something.”

He was up in an instant, flowing out of the bed, every muscle coiled and ready to strike. He looked dangerous. Intimidating. He towered over her, and the very air pulsed around her with his anger. “Get. That. Ring. On.
Now.
”

Okay, bad move taking off the ring. She didn't even pretend to hesitate. She knew he would never strike her, but she also knew when he had that much anger over something, it meant a lot to him. She took the ring out of her drawer and shoved it back on her finger.

“Don't you ever fucking take that off again. You got me, Francesca? Are we clear on that? You tell me we're clear. I want to hear the words.”

“We're clear, Stefano.”

She heard the tremor in her voice and was instantly angry with herself. She didn't want him to ever think she was a pushover and wouldn't stand up to him. She put the ring on because it meant enough to him to be angry over it, not because she was afraid of him. Well. Not much. Well. Okay, maybe she was a little, or a lot, but in her defense, he could be very scary.

His hand snaked out, fingers curling around the nape of her neck and he yanked her to him, his mouth fastening on hers. It wasn't a nice kiss at all. Brutal. Merciless. Savage even. He was claiming her all over again and she knew it. Reveled in it. Drowned in it. She loved his mouth and the way he could use it. She was fairly certain no one else in the world could kiss like him. She didn't care if he devoured her. She wanted him to. She loved it when he got all macho
and manly on her. Fear receded quickly when his mouth was on hers because inevitably, no matter how the kiss started, it always ended with her feeling as if he loved her. Wanted her. Even needed her.

When he lifted his mouth from hers, he pushed his forehead tight against hers. “You have to know how important you are to me, Francesca. My ring on your finger, everyone knowing we're engaged, these are ways to protect you. No one can fuck with you and live. It just wouldn't happen and anyone who knows me knows that. I need to know you're safe at all times.”

“Emilio and Enzo will look after me,” she soothed, moving away from him to pick up her clothes. She had to get dressed and get to work before Pietro decided she was fired, Stefano Ferraro's fiancée or not. “I won't take off my engagement ring, I promise. But it does bother me that Emilio and Enzo are with me instead of with you. I know they always looked after you.”

“I can take care of myself, but you don't have to worry. I have more than two cousins who work as bodyguards. Tomas and Cosimo Abatangelo will be working with me. Ordinarily, they keep their eye on Emmanuelle. She's always giving them the slip and making them angry, but because of that, they're very, very observant.”

“Why does Emmanuelle need a bodyguard?” She pulled on a pair of jeans. They fit like a glove and yet were very comfortable.

Stefano frowned at her as he began to dress as well. “
Dolce cuore
, wear that really beautiful skirt for me. The one with all the ruffles that falls to your ankles. I've wanted to see it on you from the moment I purchased it.”

She paused in the act of zipping up the jeans. Her eyes met his. His gaze had darkened. Was sexy. Sensual. Hooded. Speculative. He was up to something. She glanced toward the closet where the skirt hung. She knew exactly which one he was talking about. She loved that skirt, but it seemed a little too nice to wear to work. Still, if it meant that much
to him, and she could see by his expression it did, then she didn't mind in the least accommodating him.

She slid the jeans back down over her hips, watching his face. Watching the approval. The satisfaction. The sudden blaze of heat in his eyes.

“You won't need those sexy panties with that skirt, Francesca.” His voice was pitched low, almost a growl. So sexy she felt the damp heat instantly.

“I'm going to work, Stefano.” She tried to be firm. She couldn't just give him every little thing his heart desired, could she? He'd walk all over her.

“I was hoping to stop by work to see you, but I'll have less than an hour. No panties saves time.”

She shivered. Her breasts ached. The heat between her legs burst into a full-out burn. Leaving her panties in place, she crossed to the closet and pulled down the skirt. “You could call me on that phone you gave me and give me the heads-up. I'll go to the restroom and remove my panties and be all ready for you. That way, I won't be dripping all day in anticipation.”

“I like the idea of you dripping in anticipation all day. I could lick all that honey off your thighs when I come to see you.”

She pressed her thighs together, trying not to squirm. “I'm wearing my panties, Stefano, so call when you want them off.” She pulled on a matching blouse, one that didn't quite hide the necklace he'd given her. She touched one of the dark smudges with her fingertip. “I look like I'm in high school.”

He laughed. “I'll be calling and texting,
bambina
, so keep your phone close and fucking answer it.”

“What part of ‘I'm working' don't you understand?”

“What part of ‘fucking answer your phone when I call' don't you understand?” he countered. “I don't like you working, but I'm giving you what you want, so you give me this.”

“You are exasperating,” she informed him, pulling on knee-high boots. They were navy blue with three leather ruffles down the backs. They matched the skirt perfectly. “I'm leaving, but I'll keep my phone close.”

“Wait for Emilio and Enzo. They'll come up and get you and take you to the other elevator.” He caught her chin in his palm and kissed her. Hard. Perfect. “I'm calling them up to meet you now.”

Francesca felt a little dazed when he released her. She nodded and forced herself to walk out of the bedroom. She got halfway down the hall when he called her. She turned back and he was leaning against the doorjamb, watching her. Naked. He looked gorgeous. Tough. Dangerous. Completely hot. And he was all hers. She quirked an eye at him, wishing she had his confidence. It didn't bother him in the least to be naked. She knew if the elevator doors opened and a crowd emerged, he wouldn't care.

“What time is your first break?”

“Around ten.”

“Go straight to the restroom and lock the door.”

Her entire body tightened. It was the way he said it. The look in his eyes. She couldn't imagine anyone sexier. She couldn't find her voice, her mouth had gone dry and the air seemed to have left her lungs. She just nodded and turned back toward the great room, to wait for Emilio and Enzo.

She was grateful for the bodyguards as the car she was in drove past the entrance of the hotel. Paparazzi were everywhere, a three-deep crowd laying siege in an effort to get pictures of her or Stefano, preferably both of them. In spite of the tinted windows she ducked down automatically.

“Is his life always like this?” she asked Emilio. She was becoming rather fond of both Emilio and Enzo. She knew they were devoted to Stefano and she liked them all the more for that.

“Yes,” Emilio answered. “Don't worry, Francesca. We won't let them near you. Just stay away from the windows and if we warn you, leave the counter and go straight to the back. Pietro knows to protect you. He'll come out and handle customers. No one is going to talk about you or let on in any way that you're working there.”

She shook her head. “The paparazzi pay good money to people for information. Don't count on it, Emilio.”

Enzo snorted. “Seriously, Francesca? Do you really believe anyone would dare cross Stefano Ferraro?
Hell
no. No one in the neighborhood would be that stupid.”

She frowned. It was back to the “mafia”-type warning. What did it matter if Stefano was upset with someone if they got paid an exorbitant fee for selling information? What would he do to them? Surely no one was that afraid. She shivered, remembering how he could look. One moment he was soft inside, looking at her with such a sweet look and the next, he was cold and distant, without expression. Scary.

The car pulled up behind Masci's Deli. She reached for the door handle but Emilio stopped her. “Wait until we clear the area. We'll give you the okay to get out, but you don't move until then.”

She subsided against the seat with a little sigh. Becoming engaged to Stefano had changed her world all over again. She'd gone from homeless to being engaged to a very wealthy man in a very short time, and she felt like her mind couldn't quite catch up. She was very glad to get inside the deli, where only Pietro was waiting. Together they put everything in the cases and set up for the early-morning crowd.

She loved that it was so busy, keeping her from thinking too much, but by the time the first wave had come and gone, she found she was having to struggle to keep her mind from straying to Stefano and what he had planned for her ten o'clock break.

Joanna came in around nine, and since there were only a couple of people left to serve, Pietro told her to grab a coffee and visit for ten minutes. She did, slipping into the chair across from Joanna, feeling only a little bit of guilt that her boss was allowing her extra break time, but not too much because she wanted to show off her ring.

Joanna squealed loudly and appropriately. “I can't believe this. My best friend is going to marry Stefano Ferraro. That
rock on your finger is worth a small house—you know that, don't you? It's beautiful. You're beautiful. I'm so happy for you, Francesca.”

Francesca looked down at her ring. “It is beautiful, isn't it?” She found herself smiling at Joanna, so happy she wanted to cry. “How did things go with Mario?”

Joanna wrapped her arms around her middle. “Oh. My. God. He's
so
good in bed. Honest to God, Francesca, I'm having a mini-orgasm just remembering. He's the best dancer, and after you left, Emmanuelle and her cousins didn't desert us or make us feel as if we didn't belong. They were so nice. They picked up the tab for all the drinks and invited us back with them again. It was an amazing night. I would have been walking on air for months just from that alone, but then Mario took me to his apartment and I stayed there with him all weekend. He treated me like a princess. I could totally fall in love with him.”

Francesca studied her face. Joanna had dated all the time and she hooked up with men often, but Francesca had never seen her like this. Her face was glowing and she couldn't stop smiling.

“So do you have another date with him lined up?”

Joanna nodded. “He made a point of saying he wanted us to be exclusive. He said he'd been waiting for an opportunity with me and he wasn't about to pass it up. He also said he wasn't about to let any other man edge him out, now that he had me.”

Francesca was happy for her. “That's so awesome. I love that for you.”

Joanna smirked. “Me, too. He's just everything I thought he would be and more.” Her head went up and she widened her eyes. “I forgot. Were you listening to the news at all this morning? The three women arrested at the club, those singers who were so rude when they came to the table?”

“Stella, Janice and Doreen. The Crystals.”

“Yep. That band. They pleaded guilty. Just like that. And there were multiple charges. No one does that. I've never
heard of anyone so stinking rich with money to pay a really great attorney pleading guilty to that kind of charge. They aren't going into rehab—they're getting jail time. Why would they do that? And why in the world did their attorney allow them to? It doesn't make any sense at all.”

“I didn't know they'd even go before a judge that fast other than to maybe set bail,” Francesca murmured, unease creeping into her mind in spite of the happiness that had permeated her world all morning. Her fingers found her engagement ring and she absently played with it, trying not to think about what might cause three vindictive and very entitled women with the money to pay for a great attorney to plead guilty and allow a judge to sentence them without a trial.