Breaking His Rules (7 page)

His companion cleared his throat, breaking Damon’s magnetic hold on me. My mouth felt suddenly dry, and I steeled my back, preparing to face my ex-fiancé. What the hell was he doing here with Damon? His stare was equally as commanding, but dark as a starless night sky and burning with molten desire.
He still wants me.
A wave of nausea hit me hard and for the second time in a matter of minutes, I tightened my grip on Mason’s arm.

“Samantha.”

They said my name in unison, as if in stereo, and I prayed the floor would open and swallow me up. The tight set of Giovanni’s jaw betrayed his irritation. He had seen the way I devoured Damon with my eyes only seconds before. And now he knew we shared a connection.

I didn’t flinch or react to my ex-fiancé. And from the corner of my eye I noted Damon displayed only mild curiosity to the news that his companion and I were on a first name basis.

“Gentlemen,” my brother said, stepping forward and placing his body in front of me. The gesture was not lost on Damon. He pressed his lips into a thin line and turned questioning midnight blue eyes on me. The pressure was too much. I averted my gaze, taking sudden interest in the crowd gathered around the maître d’.

Mason addressed Damon first. “It appears you’re acquainted with my sister. I’m Mason Rayne. And you are?”

God bless my brother for playing stupid.
I could’ve kissed him right then and there. My eyes flashed toward Damon’s and I pleaded silently.
Please keep it professional.
I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth and nibbled as the air grew warm around me.

“Damon Baxter,” he replied, grasping my brother’s hand in a firm, albeit brief, handshake. “Owner of Midnight Blue. I’m Samantha’s boss.”

He didn’t offer any further information about our connection, and I let a slow breath of air seep out of me. My brother’s curiosity was piqued, and I didn’t relish explaining why Damon had dropped me off at home. But no one needed to know the nature of our relationship right now. Least of all the man standing rigid next to Damon. His barely restrained displeasure was palpable.

“Giovanni,” my brother said, pumping his hand while clasping his shoulder in a firm grip. “What a surprise to see you in Chicago. Here on business?”

Giovanni replied with a curt nod. “But I would have come more often to mix business with pleasure had I known Samantha was in town.” He branded me with one look and lowered his voice. “How are you, dolcezza? It’s been way too long.”

“Fine, thank you.” I bit out the sharp retort, struggling to maintain my composure. The nerve of that man.
Dolcezza
. I was not his sweetheart! “Please don’t let us keep you.” I squeezed Mason’s arm, avoiding eye contact with Damon at all costs. “It looks rather busy tonight. Let’s find another restaurant?”

“Come now,” Giovanni said in a conciliatory tone. “The owner is a personal friend of mine. You should stay. Enjoy the food and the view. It’s spectacular.”

He strode to the maître d’ without waiting for our response and pulled him aside. Closing my eyes for a moment, I breathed deeply through my nose. I could handle this. Mason held himself together—like the true businessman he was—and engaged Damon in small talk while we waited. A minute later, Giovanni waved us over. A waiter stood nearby with four menus, prepared to escort us to our tables.

“Perhaps you will both join us for dessert after we’ve concluded our business?” Giovanni asked with one hand resting casually in his pant pocket. “I would love to hear your impressions of Chicago, Samantha.”

How could we refuse after he’d secured a table for us? He was a master manipulator. My brother rescued me from having to respond.

“Perhaps.” Mason clasped Giovanni on the shoulder one last time. “Thanks for arranging for our table. I appreciate it. We’ll talk later.” He turned to Damon and acknowledged him with a flick of his chin. “Nice to meet you. Samantha is a hard worker, and an excellent bartender. Don’t let the competition sink their talons into her.” And then he winked.

I groaned inside at his thinly veiled double entendre. Was this his way of letting me know he had put two and two together already? Mason could be a real pain in my ass sometimes. Especially because he knew Giovanni was
not
the competition. Anymore.

“Not a chance,” Damon said, catching my gaze and smiling. “Enjoy your dinner, Samantha.”

I nodded and turned to follow the waiter on unsteady legs. The way Damon said my name was like a caress. Soft and warm. He shouldn’t be able to make my knees wobbly with a simple gaze and a couple of words. But he did, because his rich, baritone voice brought back sizzling memories of the naughty things he’d said to me while I lie naked in his arms.

The waiter directed us through a maze of tables covered in pristine white table cloths. We stopped at a table for two situated next to the exterior windows. City lights twinkled against the black skyline for what seemed like hundreds of miles. I gazed in wonder as I sank into the soft leather chair held out for me by the waiter.

As we enjoyed our courses of oysters, lobster bisque, and filet mignon with a side of wild mushrooms and asparagus, I was painfully aware of Giovanni’s occasional stare from across the room. The bastard had arranged for the waiter to seat me on the side of the table facing him.

Mason filled me in on the latest news about our friends and family back home. He made me laugh with stories of our favorite patrons at our family restaurant and bar. I didn’t have a childhood memory that didn’t include Let It Rayne, though our father had only acquired it when Mason was a little boy. We both practically grew up there and loved hassling the chefs and later the bartenders and wait staff.

Mason and I bantered back and forth about my new job as well. His interest had increased tenfold after the encounter outside the elevators. But he had held his tongue throughout dinner when it came to Damon, keeping his promise to let me open up at my own pace. Or perhaps he took pity on me after the surprise meeting with my ex-fiancé. Although my brother didn’t know the full details behind our breakup, he knew it hadn’t ended on good terms, and he respected my wishes not to discuss the matter further.

How could I tell Mason the truth when I knew it would crush him? He would feel duty bound to defend my honor. I couldn’t have that on my conscience. Giovanni was too powerful in the business community. He would destroy Mason if he felt threatened. And I knew with certainty that my father would let him.

Before I knew it, our waiter was offering us a dessert menu and requesting that we join Giovanni and Damon at their table. I glanced out the window and chewed on the inside of my cheek, gathering my strength.

“We don’t have to join them,” Mason said, reaching over the table to grab my hand. “Do you want to leave?”

He didn’t offer to stay and have dessert at our table alone. We both knew that wasn’t an option. A small vice squeezed around my heart. God, I missed him. He loved me so much. “It’ll be bad for business if you don’t accept his offer. I can endure thirty minutes of his company if you’re there.”

“Fuck business,” Mason growled. “Your happiness is more important. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I can see you’re distressed at the idea of sitting with him.”

For the first time that evening, I was happy that I was facing Giovanni and not my brother. Mason’s reaction would have caused more than a raised eyebrow.

“And that’s why I love you so much.” I pushed my chair back and stood, squaring my shoulders. “Come on. The sooner we go, the sooner it’ll be over.”

When we approached, Giovanni stood and pulled back the chair to his right for me, all smiles and gentlemanly behavior. “Please, sit here.”

I nodded hello to Damon and sat, allowing the waiter to place a fresh linen napkin on my lap. An empty cocktail glass sat directly before Damon and I smirked. Did he enjoy martini’s so much or was he toying with me?

“Let me guess,” I said, arching a single eyebrow. “Martini?”

“Dirty,” he replied with a grin. “They’re the best.”

I chuckled and held his gaze. “So I’ve been told.”

“And mine?” Giovanni inquired, pulling my attention to him.

Avoiding his eyes, I focused on his glass, though it wasn’t necessary. I already knew what he preferred to drink while conducting business. “Manhattan.”

“You know me so well,” he said with a hint of triumph in his words.

I snorted softly at his arrogance. “Hardly. I’m a bartender. It’s my job.”

“I never acquired a taste for either,” Mason offered, interrupting the awkward moment. “Nine times out of ten you’ll find me with a bottle of beer instead.”

Damon tipped his head and smiled. “Nothing wrong with that. I’m fond of a good draft myself.”

“I bet you’ve got the best at Midnight Blue,” Mason said, leaning forward with his forearms on the table. “Samantha was telling me about her first night working in The Lounge. Sounds like quite the set up.”

I trained my stare on Mason, but he wisely ignored me. He was on a mission to secure an invitation to Midnight Blue. Although a big part of me was pissed at him for taking advantage of the opportunity that had presented itself, a small part of me was proud of his ability to think on his feet and react in the moment to get what he wanted.

“Was she now? I’d love to hear what she had to say.” Damon glanced at me with a flicker of humor in his eyes. “Better yet. Why don’t you come while you’re in town? I’ll leave your name with the hostess.” He turned to address Giovanni. “You’re welcome to join as well.”

A dessert cart was wheeled to our table and I sighed in relief. I was glad to get this business over and move the discussion to another topic. The thought of Giovanni at Midnight Blue while I was working my shift was unnerving.

I ordered my favorite dish—crème brûlée. If I had to suffer through a bit of hell in my ex-fiancé’s company, then I was going to do it while enjoying a bit of heaven. Damon’s eyes sparkled mischievously when he ordered the same. As I reached for my spoon, a tiny smile stretched across my lips.

Giovanni noticed the coincidence and narrowed his eyes on me. He gaped as I lifted the first spoonful to my mouth, and then another. I refused to let his rude behavior ruin my evening. The sweet, creamy custard slid down my throat and I resisted the urge to moan in pleasure. I made it through every delicious bite with my gaze trained on Damon, who was thoroughly enjoying his dessert as well.

Mason was my saving grace, keeping the banter light and focused on sports. Damon took his cue and followed along while I concentrated on enjoying my custard. With the last bite, a crumb of caramelized sugar stuck to the corner of my mouth. I should have wiped it away with a napkin, but Damon’s challenging stare goaded me into licking it away. The way he followed my tongue as it inched across my lips set a slow ache burning between my thighs. Was he also thinking about the tip of his cock penetrating my mouth?

“I’d forgotten how much you enjoy dessert,” Giovanni said with a wolfish grin, tearing me away from my daydream. “Crème brûlée always was your favorite. Mine, too, whenever we enjoyed it together.”

I nearly gagged on his words. My eyes widened and I bit my lower lip, holding back a sharp retort.
One time.
One single time he had eaten the delectable custard from my body in our hotel room after a charity event. He had a lot of nerve mentioning it in the company of my brother and my boss.

“So how do you two know each other?” Damon asked, licking the last of his dessert off his spoon. His inquiry was polite and directed at me.

Giovanni drummed his fingers on the table. “Samantha is my fiancée.”

“Excuse me?” I tossed my napkin on my plate, preparing to leave. His behavior knew no boundaries and I refused to sit quietly while he played his little games. Enough was enough.

“Did I say
is
?” he asked with wide-eyed innocence. He placed his hand over mine and turned to Damon. “
Was
my fiancée. I’ve asked her to reconsider and give me another chance.” Patting my hand absently, he said, “Sorry. A simple slip of the tongue.”

Slip of the tongue, my ass
. Giovanni was staking his claim; telling Damon in no uncertain terms that I was off limits. Well, he could go to hell. His claim on me expired when he offered my body to his colleagues in exchange for closing a business deal. I was never his property, nor would I ever be his woman again.

I stood and glared down at him. “I reconsidered your offer over a year ago and declined. The answer is still no.” Tossing Mason a glance, I said, “I’m going to use the restroom, and when I get back, I’m ready to leave. It’s been a long day and I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

My brother’s gaze rested on Damon for a split second before he nodded. With my purse clutched in my hand, I stormed away from the table, not even caring that I had no idea where I might find the restroom. Right now, I needed to get away from Giovanni.

He was insufferable. After a year of living on my own, I couldn’t even remember why I had ever been attracted to him in the first place. Why had I ever thought myself in love with him? Knowing what I knew now, it was inconceivable. How could I not have known his true character from the beginning? Red-hot shame flooded me and threatened to choke me. God dammit. I had buried these feelings long ago. Forgiven myself for being so blind and naïve.

Turning the corner, I spotted the ladies room ten feet ahead on the right. I paused and leaned my hand against the wall, taking measured breaths. My heartbeat thumped at a mad pace and the rush of blood hummed in my ears as my body began to shake.
He still wants me.

“Samantha?” Damon gripped me by the shoulders from behind and whispered in my ear. “Are you all right?”

I shook my head, keeping it lowered lest he see my shame.

“You’re shaking,” he said in an incredulous voice. He grabbed my hand and tugged me along behind him. “Come with me.”

A minute later he pulled me into a room and closed the door behind us. The second we were alone, he stripped off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders before wrapping his arms around me. He didn’t say a word as he held me and rubbed my hair in short, gentle strokes. My body continued to shake while I concentrated on taking deep, calming breaths. The woody scent of his cologne clung to his jacket and filled my nostrils. It was comforting and I felt safe. I snuggled into his embrace, allowing his strength to soothe me until my body finally ceased shaking.