Thin Lies (Donati Bloodlines #1) (8 page)

Emma
bent over at the knees, still not seeing Calisto behind her, and grabbed at the
sleeveless, princess-style gown to pull at the bodice again. Her hard panting,
like she was gasping for a breath that just wasn’t there, was accompanied by a
broken sob.

His
black heart, incrusted with years of layered ice, cracked.

Calisto
tried to ignore it.

He
wanted to …  

“Now,”
he heard her mumble. “I want this off right
now
.”

Closing
the last couple of feet between him and Emma, Calisto’s hands landed on her
bare shoulders. He felt every muscle in her body jump under his touch, but he
didn’t let her go.

“Hey,
it’s all right, Emmy,” he said softly.

Emma
straightened fast before spinning around. Calisto’s hands went with her, moving
from her shoulders to her neck in a flash. He tried hard to ignore the softness
of her peaches and cream skin under his palms, or how the heat of her body
seemed to fuse straight into his bloodstream.

Wiping
at her eyes, Emma mumbled, “Go away. I’m fine.”

“You’re
not.”

She
was so far from fine that it wasn’t even funny.

Emma’s
breath caught on another sob.

Calisto
flinched. “Turn around. You want this awful thing off, right? That’s what you
said when I came in here. Let me take it off, Emmy. I’ll help.”

At
first, it seemed like she was going to argue with him. Her green eyes welled
with tears all over again, and her bottom lip quivered just enough to shake
what resolve Calisto might have had left.

“It
makes me feel like I can’t breathe,” she said.

“Turn
around and I’ll help, Emmy.”

Calisto
didn’t wait for her to do as he asked. He spun her around, fisted the ties
keeping the corset tight, and yanked. Over and over, he pulled the silk bands
out until the bodice of the dress was falling apart and away from Emma’s body.

It
also did something else he hadn’t thought about.

From
the swell of her ass to the middle of her back, Emma’s skin peeked through the
breaks in the ties. Smooth, unblemished, pale skin. It didn’t help that Calisto
was still touching her. He could feel her shivers under his hands, and if he
just moved his palms down a little lower, the dress would slide right off and
leave her naked and bare.

His
teeth clenched. A heat bloomed deep in his gut, shooting straight down to his
cock and balls. Inside his head, he knew it was bad. To look at Emma Sorrento
in a less than innocent way would surely earn him a few bullets. To act on the
dark lust spinning around in his blood would be a nail in the coffin.

If
he even got a funeral.

Despite
what Calisto knew, it didn’t stop his erection from straining against the
zipper of his jeans. It didn’t help the hunger, never mind the confusion.

Space
, his mind said.
Take
some space.

Calisto
dropped his hands and stepped back, putting a foot between him and Emma. It
didn’t make much of a difference to the mind his cock now seemed to have. Emma
didn’t care that Calisto had stepped back either, considering she was pulling
the dress down and shimmying her hips to free the skirt.

“Uh,
Emma … let me get out of here before you—”

Calisto’s
words and thought process stopped as the mountain of silk and crinoline fell to
the floor. Emma stood in the middle of the pile, her shoulders heaving and her
back bare, as she sucked in a deep breath.

Black
lace covered her backside, drawing Calisto’s gaze straight down to Emma’s ass.
His fingers itched to reach out and run over the swell of her ass, just to see
what she would do.

Would
she shiver?

Shake?

Ask
for more?

Calisto
swallowed hard, trying to come up with something to say. Emma wore no bra, so
when she turned with her arms covering her chest, he could see the sides of her
breasts peeking out to give a hint of her beauty.

Wary
eyes found him still as a stone. Emma chewed on her bottom lip and avoided his
stare.

She
was all skin, curves, and sin, standing there like that. A body that looked fit
to be touched, tasted, and explored. He bet his hands would fit perfectly in
the dip of her waist while his other disappeared down her panties. The kind of
lace covering her sex and ass was just the right material to grab on, pull
hard, and rip right off when he had her bent over a flat, sturdy surface.

This
wasn’t good at all.

“Thank
you,” Emma said.

Calisto
nodded tightly. “No problem.”

“I
didn’t mean to freak out like that.”

How
was she being normal right now?

Couldn’t
she see he was fucking struggling?

“You
should put something on,” Calisto said, hoarse and husky at the same time.

Emma
didn’t act like she heard him. “It just caught up to me really fast.”

“Did
your mother leave because you were having a fit?”

“No,
my father called. I panicked after she left.”

Calisto
shouldn’t care; he shouldn’t ask. “About what?”

“Wearing
a dress. Walking down an aisle. It felt real all of the sudden and then I
couldn’t breathe, or get the dress off. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t
apologize.”

Emma
glanced down at the dress. “God, that’s a lot of material for something so
ugly.”

Calisto
somehow managed a laugh. Considering the majority of the blood in his body was
still owned by his cock, it was the best he could do.

“Get
dressed,” he said again.

“Haven’t
you seen a naked woman before?”

“Yes.”

Not
you.

The
longer you stand there, the more I want to.

“Keep
your eyes up above the neckline and you’ll do okay,” Emma told him.

“Funny,”
he replied. “You’re fucking hilarious.”

“Calm
down. I’ll get dressed. My clothes are in the changing room.”

She
stepped out of the pile, and moved toward the changing room. Calisto tried not
to watch the way Emma’s hips swayed as she walked. For most women, they learned
how to move just the right way to draw a man’s eye.

Emma’s
sway wasn’t learned—it was all natural.

Once
she was safely hidden behind the dressing room door, Calisto took a much needed
breath. He ran through the alphabet, times tables, the American anthem, his
Cosa Nostra oath, and anything else he could think of to get his erection down.

Anything
to get the woman out of his head.

It
didn’t work.

Cazzo
.

“What
did you come in for?” Emma asked behind the door.

“Affonso
called.”

Emma
groaned. “Weren’t his letter and gift this morning enough? He can’t leave me
alone for a day?”

“Sorry,
Emmy. Don’t kill the messenger. Didn’t you like the gift?”

“No,”
she said sharply. “It’s another attempt to buy my loyalty and good behavior.”

Smart
girl
,
he praised silently.

“He
wanted me to check on your shopping,” Calisto settled on saying.

Honesty
was the best policy.

Emma
yanked open the door and glared at him. Her dress hung off one shoulder, barely
covering her breasts. She hadn’t gotten the other arm in, obviously.

Calisto
averted his eyes.

“Are
you serious?” she asked.

“
Sì
.
By the way, the one on the floor is in no way acceptable for his standards.”

Emma’s
lips drew thin. “I should wear it even though I hate it, too, just to piss him
off.”

Calisto
was inclined to urge her on, but he didn’t. “Don’t you want to pick your
dress?”

“Not
really.”

“But
it is your dress, Emmy, and despite what Affonso doesn’t want you to wear … well,
you do have a choice in the matter. Some women like to keep their dresses and
have them made into things for their children. Christening gowns or whatever.”

Emma
blinked, her features softening. “My mom did that with hers. I still have the
miniature gown.”

“You
could do the same thing. Instead of seeing this as something awful, turn it
into something to look forward to.”

Because
children with Affonso was sure to be wonderful. Calisto hated himself the more
he spoke. He shouldn’t be encouraging her to pick a wedding dress so she could
marry a man he hated.

“I
could,” Emma mused. “But that means I expect to have his children.”

“Caught
onto that, did you?”

“I
don’t think it’s really optional with him.”

“Probably
not,” Calisto admitted.

“Is
he making you ensure I pick the right dress?” she asked.

“Essentially.”

“Sucks
to be you.”

“You
don’t even know how much.”

Emma
smirked bitterly. “I think I do.”

Calisto

“My
apologies,” Calisto said, chuckling. “I can only guess how you’re feeling right
now, and it’s probably a lot worse than me.”

“Probably,”
Emma echoed.

She
shifted on her feet, and the swell of her breast peeked out from the side.
Calisto’s jeans tightened all over again.

“Would
you please get dressed or fix your dress?”

She
quickly corrected her dress, sliding her other arm in and letting the fabric
fall down her toned figure. The dress clung to her curves and the skirt swayed
when she moved.

Calisto
had to look away.

Naked
or clothed, it didn’t really matter. The woman was still gorgeous. Calisto was
beginning to wish he didn’t notice these kinds of things about Emma. It wasn’t
helping his dangerous attraction.

“Well,
the good news for you is that I’m done shopping for today. No need to babysit
what dress I’m picking out.”

“Oh?”
he asked.

Emma
shrugged. “One panic attack is enough. I’m not interested in shooting for a
second.”

“I
don’t blame you.”

But
she would need to pick one. She was getting married, the girl would need a
dress to wear for the day. Affonso wouldn’t accept Emma walking down in her
jeans, or God forbid, a black dress that showcased how she truly felt about the
day.

Calisto’s
stomach turned at the thought.

“I
guess our deal is off, huh?” Emma asked.

“Pardon?”

“I
had a ‘fit,’ as you put it. You said if I didn’t, we could have some fun
tonight and I could empty your pockets at the casino. I lost the bet. Hence, no
fun.”

Calisto
frowned. “There was no bet. I was trying to get you to do what you were told.
We’ll still go. I might have to limit your time at the poker table, seeing as
how I like my cash, but we’ll go.”

Emma’s
smile came off brilliant and bright. “Yeah?”

“Why
not?”

You
know why not, idiot,
his mind growled.

Calisto
ignored it.

He’d
never pushed aside his gut feeling before. It had never failed him, not once.
When something felt like it was off, then it probably was. If someone gave him
a bad vibe, they were probably hiding something.

That
was how he lived.

By
his gut.

It
kept Calisto alive.

The
problem with his gut instinct was that it didn’t seem to be giving him anything
useable where Emma Sorrento was concerned. It felt both good and bad—a should
and shouldn’t kind of feeling that left him nowhere but confused.

“Okay,”
Emma said quietly. “I have a dinner with my mom and dad later first.”

“I’ll
be around.”

“I
don’t doubt it.”

Despite
her teasing laugh that followed, there was a sadness in her eyes that she hid
well. Calisto still saw it. He knew Emma hated that he was constantly following
her. To her, it probably seemed as though he was keeping tabs and reporting
back to his uncle on her whereabouts and doings.

Mostly,
Calisto gave Affonso the same info: nothing to see here. There wasn’t anything
to report. Emma was, for the most part, keeping a clean nose. She wasn’t doing
anything wrong, she hadn’t been out living up the Vegas nightlife since the
engagement, and she kept quiet. But even if she did …  

Calisto
wasn’t sure he would tell.

“Miss
Sorrento, I’m so sorry that took so—Oh!”

Spinning
on his heel, Calisto found the heavier set, dark-haired woman standing in the
entrance to the private sitting room. He had noticed her earlier talking on the
phone.

“Hello,”
the woman said, looking him up and down.  

Calisto
offered a smooth smile. “Hello.”

“Calisto,
this is Marian. She’s the owner and a friend to my mother.”

Glancing
over his shoulder at Emma, he took note of her unhappiness.

Ah
.

Well,
that explained the half-hidden frown Emma was sporting.

“I
didn’t see Minnie leave,” Marian said.

“She
rushed out after my father called, needing something. I’m finishing up, anyway.
Next time, okay?”

Marian
scowled. “But … well, I found a dress for you, dear.”

Calisto
could practically hear Emma’s teeth grind behind him. “I think Emmy wants to
head out and finish this up at another time.”

“One
more, please?” the woman asked, brushing Calisto’s comment off. “I promise
you’ll love it. Those dresses your mother demanded were not suitable for you,
Emma. It’s what she wanted to see you in, not what you wanted to be seen in. This
one is perfect, I know it.”

Emma
sighed heavily.

Calisto
passed her another look. “You don’t have to, if you’re not in the mood. We can
go. Do this another day, Emmy.”

“You
want her to look beautiful when she walks down the aisle to meet you, right?”
the woman asked.

He
damn near choked on his answer.

“I’m
… uh, not—”

“Get
the dress,” Emma said, interrupting Calisto’s stumbling words.

“Jesus,”
he mumbled when the woman was gone. Turning back to Emma, he found her shaking
her head and giggling. “I thought you said she was a friend of your mother’s?
Doesn’t she know who you’re marrying?”

Emma
scoffed. “Arranged marriage is only acceptable in certain cultures and the
mafia. Just because my mother supports my marriage to Affonso doesn’t mean her
arrogant, superficial friends won’t stick their noses up at her. She has to
save some kind of face. That doesn’t include explaining that my future husband
is thirty years older than me.”

“Damn.”

“I
have to say, I really enjoyed watching my mother fumble for a response when
Marian asked earlier where her invitation was.”

Calisto
grinned. “Lost in the mail?”

“Apparently,
it’s not sent out yet.”

“Smooth.”

Emma
lifted a single shoulder like it didn’t make a difference to her either way.
“My mother has always been a good liar. And she knows that if she explains the
wedding is happening in New York, the mouths will run that it’s a connected
wedding. If you know what I mean.”

“A
mafia wedding.”

“Mmhmm.
She doesn’t want more people talking than what already do. That, or George
doesn’t want people talking and making rumors. Dad wants this all to happen as
quietly as possible. Mom isn’t the only one who doesn’t want to hear people’s
opinions over the fact that he’s marrying his daughter off to someone thirty
years older than her.”

“Doesn’t
she read the socialite magazines?” he asked.

“Probably.
It’s like an addiction. She knows better, but she runs to the store every week
for the new issues.”

Strange.

Calisto
dropped the topic when Marian strolled back into the sitting room with a
garment bag slung over her arm. It was a much smaller, thinner bag than he
expected to see for a wedding gown. Pointing at Calisto with her free hand, the
woman barked, “You, out.”

“He
stays,” Emma said quickly.

Marian’s
mouth opened to argue, but she didn’t get a chance.

“I
want him to stay,” she clarified.

Calisto
cocked a brow at Emma. “You’re sure?”  

“Lots
of men see their brides in dresses before the wedding. I want his opinion.”

Calisto
clenched his jaw in an attempt to keep quiet. He didn’t want to sit through
Emma putting on another dress, but he knew what she was doing. She was likely
giving him the chance to see what the dress looked like and tell her if it was
appropriate for Affonso’s tastes and demands.

“Fine,”
the shop keeper muttered. “But it’s her dress, mister.”

“Hers,”
he agreed.

Calisto
found the closest chair and sat down. The seat was so plush that the butternut
colored leather practically swallowed his lower half. He admired the stitching
design on the arm of the chair as the women chatted inside the dressing room. Safe
conversation, he noticed. Marian asked about wedding details, and Emma answered
vaguely.

Smart
girl.

The
shuffling of a garment bag echoed out to his spot, drawing his gaze up from the
leather toward the closed door. He found his reflection in a mirror hanging off
the door. Instead of a woman coming out in her wedding gown, he found himself.
His impassive, unfeeling self—except he was neither impassive, nor unfeeling in
the reflection.

A
curious excitement buzzed in his gut. His gaze burned brightly with interest.
He would usually sit in such a way that his side was turned to the room,
keeping his posture unavailable for conversation with others. Now, he was
sitting forward, ready to be involved.

This
was all wrong.

How
many times had he thought that very thing just today alone? Calisto could hear
his mind screaming at him, warning him and taunting him all at the same time.

What
are you doing here? You know better than this. Step back before you fuck this
up. There’s a bullet waiting for you. And a seat in hell.

He
pushed his thoughts away. He indulged the bit of attraction thickening in his
blood for a woman he didn’t know all that well, but was still unobtainable. He
forced back the little voice warning him that he was toeing a very fragile line
of acceptable conduct with Emma.

Calisto
had control of this shit. He knew what was right and what was wrong where his
uncle’s fiancée was concerned. He didn’t have to give in to the lust still
keeping his cock semi-hard, or focus on the image of Emma’s bare back under his
palms.

He
wouldn’t feed into this.

Whatever
it was.

Right
?

The
high wail of a phone brought Calisto out of his head with a bang. He
straightened even more in the chair and realized he’d been holding so tightly
onto the arms that his fingernails had left scratches on the leather.

“Oh,
damn it,” Marian muttered behind the dressing room door. “I have to get that.
I’m going to shoot my new girl for not coming in today. Will you be okay for a
minute, dear?”

“Sure,”
Emma said.

Her
quiet response caught Calisto’s attention instantly. Her sweet tone came off as
unsure, confused, and weighed down. He didn’t have the chance to think on it
for long.

Marian
slipped out of the dressing room, closed the door behind her, and gave Calisto
a pointed look that told him to stay where he was without even saying a word.
She quickly hurried from the private sitting area, mumbling on about her
missing employee.

Calisto
fidgeted in the chair, waiting.

Then,
Emma opened the dressing room door and poked her head out. His gaze founds hers
right away, and he knew that he was right. The brightness of her eyes was
dulled like she had something new on her mind.

“Hey.”

“Hey,”
he said.

Emma
dropped his stare. “Could you help me really quick?”

“Sure.”
Calisto pushed up from the chair in a fluid motion. “What do you need?”

“Marian
had most of the buttons done up in the back herself. There were just a couple
left toward the top. I mean, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Calisto
swallowed the words wanting to come out, the ones that would tell her that he
minded a great deal. He still wasn’t going to feed into that nonsense, after
all.

“Not
a problem, Emmy.”

Stepping
up on the raised platform, Calisto grabbed for the doorknob, and opened the
door just enough to slip into the dressing room. Emma already had her back
turned, but white lace surrounded his vision from all sides. Mirrors lined all
four walls of the dressing room. It was impossible to ignore the beautiful,
classic, A-line dress with capped sleeves she wore. From the top of the gown to
the very bottom, intricate, off-white lace hugged Emma’s body and curves.