The Bossman Read online

  But that didn’t mean she would get involved with him.

  #

  Sophie’s full, glossy lips were all he could think about as he drove to pick her up. It was the first time he’d felt excited about anything for a long time. Just paying off the lien on her car had been a turn-on, knowing large expenditures on a woman equaled foreplay. When she answered the door, he drew in his breath and whistled.

  “You just made my night.”

  “How?” she asked, stepping back to let him in. She wore a short black skirt with bare legs and strappy heels, and a purple silk spaghetti strap tank with a scoop neck.

  “I hoped you’d wear another short skirt.”

  She rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was pleased, as she’d obviously made an effort. She’d put color on her lips this time, instead of just gloss, and they were even more pouty, if that were possible. She only lacked a few inches of height to look like an elite model. But no, models didn’t have cleavage like that. No, she was better than a model.

  He leaned in for a kiss on her cheek, catching a whiff of an earthy sort of perfume--almost like vanilla. Every nerve ending was firing in anticipation of being near her all evening. And of course, ever since she’d mentioned sex as part of their negotiations, it was all he had on his mind. But he knew he’d have to work for it. He’d have to work just to get a second date. She was not that into him. Yet.

  “Well, I’m ready,” she said with a shrug. He had the impression she wanted to get their time together over with as quickly as possible.

  He held out his arm. “After you.” He escorted her to the BMW and opened the door, helping her in before shutting it after her.

  “So,” he said, settling into the driver’s seat and turning on the car. “I got the feeling you weren’t happy to see me yesterday,” he said, addressing the issue head-on.

  Her head snapped up with a deer in the headlights look. “No, I...”

  “Come on, Sophie--don’t lie to me. You were nervous and then you were annoyed. Is your beef with me or the Family?”

  She uncrossed her knees and shifted her hips around in the seat. “No, that’s not it...I don’t have a beef,” she fumbled.

  “The truth, Sophie.”

  Feeling her eyes searching his face, he looked away from the road to meet them. The pale green of her irises stood out, framed by long, mascaraed lashes. She dropped her eyes to her hands, which were tangling in her lap. “It’s just...I haven’t really seen anyone much since my dad died.”

  He said nothing, waiting for her to elaborate.

  “I don’t have a beef,” she said with an exhale that sounded like maybe she’d just let go of it, whatever it had been.

  “Is it with me?” he asked, more gently.

  “No,” she said, lifting her eyes to his face again. There was a softness about her now, like she’d dropped the chip on her shoulder. “You’re just not my usual type, that’s all.”

  He grinned. “What’s your usual type?”

  She flashed a quick smile. “Not you.”

  “Well, if I had a type, it would be you,” he said, earning a snort.

  “I heard you just broke off an engagement with someone,” she said.

  “Oh yeah?” he said, surprised. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “My Aunt Marie--you know, Tony’s wife? I called her after you came by yesterday.”

  Though it probably meant nothing, he enjoyed a certain triumph hearing she’d asked about him. “Yeah, I just realized she wasn’t the right girl for me. Too empty.” He felt curiosity in her gaze but didn’t glance over.

  He took her to the nicest restaurant he could think of, Epic, a swanky River North establishment with views of the Chicago skyline. The maître d’ welcomed him by name and sat them in a private booth by a window. He asked if she liked wine, and when she said she did, ordered a bottle of 2004 Napa Valley zinfandel.

  “So, how was your knee after the massage?”

  “Actually, it was really good. What was that thing you did at the end, when your hands got hot?”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “You felt that?”

  “Yeah. What was it?”

  “It’s called Reiki. It’s an energy healing.”

  He digested that. It had certainly felt like energy--a pulsing wave of warmth had loosened all the strain around his titanium joint. The waiter opened the bottle of wine and handed him the cork to smell. He made a show of smelling it and then gave her a little eye roll, which made her smirk. He sampled the wine and gave the waiter a nod.

  “I’m not sure I’d recommend your services, though,” he said.

  She raised her eyebrows. “Why not?”

  Joey leveled a knowing look at her. “You know why not.”

  Something about his look made her heart pound in her chest. He was so maddeningly direct, the man had kept her off-balance from the very start of their date. She shook her head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His lips twisted into a smirk and he regarded her with heavy-lidded, appreciative eyes, as if she was a fine wine he intended to savor. “You purposely tortured me.”Her cheeks grew warm. All the superiority she’d felt doing it drained away under his direct accusation. How stupid of her to think he would be embarrassed. Somehow he’d turned the tables so she was the one squirming. “Maybe just a little,” she admitted.

  He lifted his glass. “To a great first date,” he said.

  She clinked his glass. “It’s not the first date. It’s the only date. Remember? One date?”

  He grinned. “I’m planning on locking you into another one. Don’t you know that’s how it is with the Family? Once we have our hooks into you...”

  She giggled uncomfortably, because that was exactly what she believed, and he was calling her on it. Like he’d been calling her on everything that night. She took a deep drink of the expensive wine and screwed up her courage. “Look, maybe I do have a beef. It’s just--my dad died when I was still a teenager, you know? And my mom, she never... she--”

  “--hated the Family,” he filled in.

  She met his eye. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I guess she blamed his death on the organization, so I did, too. I know you took care of us afterward. I remember the money drop-offs, the visits. Maybe it’s not fair to hold a grudge.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wish he was still around, that’s all.”

  Joey’s face had turned serious--all of the cocky charm was gone, replaced by an empathy that made her vision turn wavy. She blinked and looked out the window until the constriction in her throat eased.

  Joey reached across the table and covered her hand with his large one. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She met him with a challenging look. “What really happened to him, anyway?”

  She heard him suck in a breath and he stared at her without speaking for so long she thought he wouldn’t answer. “It was an accident,” he said at last, exhaling as if he’d reached some sort of decision. “That’s the God’s honest truth. There was an inside fight and he got killed.”

  Her heart was beating a chaotic rhythm. “Who?” she choked.

  He cocked his head to the side. “Come on, Sophie,” he appealed. “Code of silence--I couldn’t tell you, even if I wanted to.”

  She ran a finger under her lashes in case her mascara had run. “Okay,” she breathed. “When you say inside fight that means someone in the Family killed him?”

  He nodded once, as if he were telling her something he shouldn’t and he didn’t want anyone to see.

  “But why? What were they fighting about?”

  He hesitated again and something about it made the hairs stand up on her arms. “They were drinking and it got ugly. Your dad broke a bottle of Glenlivet over the other guy’s head, and he fought back by picking up a broken shard and slashing your dad’s throat. I don’t think he meant to--it was just an instinctual reaction, you know what I mean? He was torn up about it for years.”

  Her jaw hung open. “Torn up
about it for years,” she echoed blankly. “What were they fighting about?” she tried again.

  He rubbed his face. “They were fighting over your mom,” he said at last.

  Ice ran through her veins. She lifted her wine glass to her lips to hide the emotions that knocked her in the chest and ricocheted around.

  “She gave Artie a lot of grief over business, and it rubbed some of the guys the wrong way. I can’t remember what exactly it was over that time--maybe he couldn’t go to poker night or something-- but it was sort of the same old argument, only this time, there was a lot of liquor involved and it turned ugly.”

  “Were you there?” she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.

  “Yeah, I was there.”

  She guzzled the rest of her wine. “Hey, can we go?” she said after wiping her lips with the linen napkin. “I’m not that hungry.”

  Joey looked wounded, but she couldn’t help it. The idea of staying and playing out their date while she had tumultuous thoughts flying through her head nauseated her.

  “Yeah, sure.” He lifted his hand to signal the waiter, who seemed as disappointed as Joey.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, when he took her elbow to lead her out. “I just need some fresh air or something.”

  “Sure. You want to go for a walk?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  They took the elevator downstairs and stepped out onto the city sidewalk. After a few deep breaths of air, she did feel better. “You won’t say who?”

  “No, Sophie,” he said, sounding sympathetic.

  “Well,” she said after they’d walked in silence for a stretch. “Thanks for telling me, anyway. “I’d rather just know the truth than always wonder.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” he said, taking her hand. His was warm and large, enveloping hers like a man’s should. Joey was a man’s man, no question. And she’d never wanted that sort of man in her life. Her father had been enough. She’d been dating softer men--artsy men, social justice sort of men, the kind who would stay home with the kids if she wanted to work. But there was a certain sense of safety she felt walking with Joey. Like he would slay all her dragons if she asked him. Hell, he already had slayed the car loan dragon, hadn’t he? And while he’d just underscored everything she hated about the mafia--the violence at its core that had caused the death of her father--he’d also reminded her of what she’d loved so much about her dad, too.

  She looked up at him and sighed. “I guess I do owe you a second date now, don’t I?”

  “Yeah, you do.” He grinned at Sophie, a tingle of pleasure dancing all around him. He’d had no idea she would crack so easily--be so real with him--but it was just what he had expected: she had depth. He wanted to take away the pain of her father’s death. He shouldn’t have told her anything--he hoped he wouldn’t get his balls busted for it later--but he felt she deserved some information.

  His phone rang and he cursed inwardly--it was Pauly, one of the capos. “What’s up?”

  “A friend of ours got picked up tonight and I’m short five grand to post bail.”

  He sighed. “I’m on a date, Pauly.”

  “Oh really? No kiddin.’ Who with?”

  He looked at Sophie and rolled his eyes. “None of your business.”

  “Does that mean I know her? Come on, tell me who.”

  “Sophie Palazzo.”

  Pauly was silent a long moment. “No shit?” There was a slightly wary note to his voice.

  “Yeah.”

  “How’d that happen?”

  “Can we talk about it later?”

  “Oh yeah, right. What about the cash?”

  “Hit up Al, or I can get it to you in the morning. This is not my emergency.”

  “Yeah, fuck you.”

  “Fuck you, too,” he said, hanging up.

  Sophie raised her eyebrows. “What was that about?”

  He gave her ass a slap. “You should know better than to ask.”

  She looked shocked at the reprimand, even though it had been in play, and he reminded himself she was not used to his style. Somehow it made him even more eager to win her. She was that girl who’d always been out of reach for guys like him. He wanted to show her what she’d been missing.

  He put his hand on her low back and let it slide just once over her ass and then return to her back. “Sorry,” he said. “Maybe you don’t know?”

  She shook her head immediately, but didn’t look at him and though it was dark, he thought she might be blushing. “No, you’re right. I should know. I’d forgotten.” They walked a little further, her steps getting slower. “Well, I feel stupid now, but my feet are killing me,” she admitted.

  He looked down at her strappy heels. “I’m sorry, I should have realized.” He swung her up into his arms, chuckling when she gave a little shriek.

  “Ack! Put me down, I’m too heavy!”

  “You’re not too heavy, and I’m not putting you down,” he said firmly, turning to walk back in the direction of his car.

  “You big brute,” she laughed, squirming. “Show off! Neanderthal!”

  “Yes,” he murmured, enjoying the vanilla spice scent at her pulse and the view of her cleavage.

  “You’re looking down my shirt, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice offended, but lower than usual, as if she was turned on at the same time.

  “Paybacks are hell,” he said.

  “What’s this payback for?”

  He leveled a look at her and was satisfied to watch her eyes slide away. “Oh yeah, that.”

  “Yeah, that.”

  He refused to put her down until they arrived back at his car. “All right, kid. Back to your place? Are you through with me for the night?”

  “Yes, please,” she murmured to his disappointment, but not surprise. He started the car and pulled out, navigating his way back to the suburbs.

  “So, what, are you a capo now?” she asked.

  His lips twisted into a grin. “Are you still asking questions?”

  “Oh, right. Sorry.”

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you some answers right after you let me strip search you for a wire.”

  She gave a snort and shifted nervously in her seat.

  When they arrived at her place, he jumped out to open her door, swinging her up into his arms again.

  “Jesus, Joey!” she protested, but there was a giggle bubbling in her words. “You just want me to tell all my friends you swept me off my feet, don’t you?”

  The idea of her telling her friends anything about him turned him on. “What are you going to tell your friends?”

  “I’m going to tell them--” she broke off abruptly and he had the feeling it was something derogatory.

  “What? That some Guinea goombah took you out and manhandled you?”

  “Shut up,” she said, but he could tell by the way she looked away he was close to the truth. He walked her to the door and took her keys, refusing to put her down until they were inside.

  He looked around. He had missed inspecting the place when he picked her up because he had been too busy inspecting her. It was small but comfortable--filled with plants and colorful artwork. She pulled off her shoes and tossed them onto a rack by the door.

  “What bothers you about me, anyway?” he pushed, staying in her personal space.

  She looked up, her cheeks flushed. “You’re just too much man for me, that’s all. I couldn’t handle you.”

  He cupped her face, running his thumb over one cheekbone. “You don’t know until you’ve tried,” he coaxed.

  “Am I in danger here?” she asked, “Do I need to be worried about you not taking no for an answer?”

  He grinned. “No. But you’re giving me mixed signals, so I’m working on wearing down your resistance.”

  She put her hands on her hips, but didn’t move back. “What mixed signals?”

  He brought the back of his forefinger to the place her nipple protruded through her bra and blouse and rubbed over it. “This i
s one,” he murmured.

  She gave a tiny gasp, but still did not pull away. He ran his finger up her throat and under her chin, watching as her head fell slightly backward. He cupped her nape and lowered his head, moving slowly to kiss her throat, giving her ample time to refuse it, if she chose.

  She didn’t. He could see her frantic pulse beating under her jawline and he brushed his lips there first, traveling lower to nip at her neck and still lower to kiss her collarbone.

  “Sophie,” he coaxed, running his hands down her back and squeezing her firm little ass. “Don’t you want to find out what you’ve been missing?”

  “No,” she gasped, but she leaned into him, her body pressing against his as her head fell further back and her arms clutched his shoulders.

  “No?” He kneaded her ass with one hand while the other returned to the back of her neck as he nibbled at her ear, kissing along her jaw, and suckling her neck. She gave a tiny moan and grasped his head, pulling his mouth toward hers. His cock went rock hard at the invitation. Passion exploded into his kiss as he claimed her mouth, pressing his tongue in, sucking her lower lip between his teeth, pulling her against his body. She shocked him by climbing onto him, lifting one knee to his waist for him to catch, then mounting him with both legs around his waist, never releasing the kiss. He gripped her ass and walked down her hallway in search of the bedroom. He found it easily and didn’t bother with the lights. The moment he put her down, she pulled off her clothes, so he unbuttoned his shirt, and tore it off, then stopped to retrieve a condom from his wallet. Her hands on his zipper threw him over the edge, and putting the condom between his teeth, he picked her up by the waist and tossed her onto the bed, pouncing on her the moment she landed.

  “Joey!” she gasped.

  The sound of his name on her lips made him shudder with pleasure. He flicked his tongue over her erect nipple while pinching the other between two fingers. She arched into him, wriggling her hips and wrapping one long leg around his waist.