Speak Easy (20 page)

He collapsed onto my chest, and we stayed that way for a moment, each of us gasping for air.

“Oh my God.” I blinked. Repeated myself.

After a moment, he propped himself up on his hands and looked down at me. “Are you all right?”

“I’m not sure.”

Smiling, he lifted himself off me. “Good.”

I rolled to the edge of the bed, scooped up my chemise, and pulled it on. Dazed, I stumbled to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I turned on the light and looked in the mirror.

Jesus, is that me?
I had bruises on my face and tangles in my hair. My cheeks were flushed and my lips were swollen. But I liked the way my eyes looked—knowing and satisfied, as if I was in on a secret. I couldn’t help the smile that inched onto my face.
Yes. I look like a woman who’s been to bed with the sheik.

The problem was, now that I knew the feverish thrill of it, I wanted to do it again. Right now.

No.

My last shred of sense took over. This had to be a one-time-only experience. The smile slid off my face. I used the bathroom and cleaned up, my mood souring.

When I opened the door, Enzo was lounging in his underwear on the bed, smoking a cigarette. He’d lit one for me as well, and handed it to me wordlessly.

We smoked in silence for a few minutes, watching each other through the drifting haze. “I wish I’d brought some whisky up here,” he said. “I could use a drink.”

“Me too.” I dragged deep and hard on the cigarette, searing my lungs. “Although I’m not sure my body can take any more sin tonight.”

He cocked a brow. “Let’s find out.”

“No. We can’t do that again.”

“Why not? Didn’t you enjoy it?” He tilted his head. “Looked like you did. Sounded like you did.” He leaned toward me. “Felt like you did.”

Heat rushed my extremities. “That’s not the point.” I put out my cigarette in the ashtray he’d set on the bed and leaned back against the headboard, my legs crossed.
And they’re going to stay crossed.
“You’re engaged to be married. I don’t want to be some little toy on the side you take out and play with whenever you feel like it.”

“We can play whenever you feel like it too.”

“No. I’ll help you get your money back from Sam the Barber—as long as my friend doesn’t get hurt—but that’s all.” I spoke with finality and hoped I sounded more sure than I felt. And why didn’t he get dressed again? His bare skin was tying my stomach in knots.

He put out his cigarette and moved the ashtray to the dresser. “I think you’re overestimating your willpower.” Returning to the bed, he put his hand on my knee and ran it up my thigh. “And I know you’re overestimating mine.”

God, he was unfairly handsome. He lowered his lips to my shoulder as his fingers crept between my legs, nudging them apart. His other hand brushed the strap of my chemise aside and pulled it down, exposing a breast. I knew before he even put his mouth on it I was lost. Closing my eyes, I let the languorous hum take over my body. “This is a bad idea.”

“Why? I think we could be good for each other. We just have to keep it a secret. Our very own…” He licked my nipple with one warm stroke. “Dirty little…” He blew cool air across it, and I shivered. “Secret.” He took it between his teeth and bit down.

I gasped in pain, but also with the shock of pleasure it brought me. He picked his head up, a fiendish smile on his lips. “Want to bite me back?”

Instead of answering, I got to my knees, pushed him back against the headboard and yanked his underwear down. Without breaking eye contact, I crawled up his body, one leg on either side of him, until my knees bracketed his hips. After tearing off my chemise, I licked my fingers, reached down and touched myself. His mouth fell open.

Slick with desire, I slid down the rigid length of his cock, smiling when he sucked in his breath.

“Don’t come,” I ordered, delirious with the power I had over my own pleasure—and his. At his strangled groan, I dug my nails into his shoulders. “I mean it.”

“You—are—a wicked little girl.” He struggled to get the words out, his dark eyes shooting angry fire. This was way too dangerous, and I knew it.

But I didn’t care.

And I wasn’t a little girl.

“Put your hands on me,” I said.

He did as he was told, running his hands up my legs, then over my stomach and breasts. I rotated my hips, and he moved his hands back to my thighs, digging his fingers into my skin. “Easy,” he begged.

So I did it again. This time he put a hand to my throat, his eyes warning me not to push him.

I did it a third time, and his fingers snaked up the back of my neck and fisted in my hair. We stared at each other, breathing hard and trying not to erupt with the madness boiling beneath our skin.

“Pull it,” I demanded. As I began rocking my hips, his fingers tightened at the back of my skull. The faster I moved, the louder I sighed, the harder he pulled. Sharp needles of pain pricked my scalp, the perfect contrast to the unbearable pleasure that exploded in me at the very same moment.

I knew right then that I couldn’t stay away from him, no matter what the consequences.

And I knew there would be consequences.

Chapter Twenty

When I woke the next morning, Enzo was gone, but I could smell him on my skin. Bringing an arm to my face, I inhaled, and the scent put a smile on my lips and a flutter in my belly. I got out of bed and stretched, discovering I was sore—not only in the expected places, but in my stomach and leg muscles too. I located my underwear and chemise on the floor and pulled them on, wondering what time it was. Actually I wasn’t even sure what
day
it was.

In the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror and experienced the same giddy rush I had last night. The eyelet of my chemise was torn at one shoulder, but I had no idea when that had happened. My night with Enzo could be called a lot of things—fiery, explosive, passionate, shocking—but sweet and tender?

Nope.

I was surprised the thing wasn’t shredded completely.

Examining my reflection closer, I touched the bruise at my temple. It reminded me of Joey’s injury, and I swallowed hard, guilt slamming me like a fist in the gut. I had to deceive him into providing me with information for Enzo, and Joey didn’t deserve deception. I owed him Daddy’s life, and probably mine too. Squeezing my eyes shut, I exhaled slowly.
Don’t think about that now. Figure out how you’re going to get your clothes from the next room and get out of here.

I went back into the bedroom and noticed an envelope had been slid under the door. When I picked it up, I shivered. It was identical to the one Enzo had handed me at the store last Friday afternoon. I tore it open.

Dear Tiny,

Your things will be delivered shortly by a maid. Your father is expected at one o’ clock today, after which you will be free to go and my driver will take you home. We should not be seen together in public, although I do look forward to seeing you again. You are mouthy and demanding, and your temper rivals Vesuvius, but so does your passion.

Until then,

Enzo

While I fumed at his backward compliment and the fact that I was still being held here against my will, I looked for something to cover up with. What would the maid think if I answered the door in a ripped chemise? I was thinking of wrapping myself in the sheet when I saw Enzo’s gray coat on the dresser. I shrugged into it, the sleeves hanging far below my hands, and the length sufficient to cover me nearly to the knee. Tightening it around me, I buried my nose in the collar and breathed him in. The sexy smoke-and-tobacco scent made me dizzy.

But my anger still simmered. Why should he be the one deciding when I could leave? And what did he mean,
in public
? That my company was welcome for a romp in his bed but not for a drink at his club?
Go to hell, Enzo.

A knock sounded on the door and I heard it being unlocked, but no one entered. The knock sounded again. I rolled my eyes—this prisoner/guest business was wearing on my nerves. I opened the door and the same maid from yesterday brought in my dress and shoes, along with towels and toiletries. She laid everything on the bed and left without saying a word, for which I was grateful. Although she didn’t make direct eye contact, she had to have noticed I wore nothing but a man’s coat.

Banishing that thought, I washed up, brushed my teeth, and dressed. I wished I had a comb or even a hat, but I did the best I could with a little water and my fingers. When I was finished, I returned to the bed and sat. How long would I have to wait here? Drumming my fingers on the spread, I stewed that even after last night, Enzo still wouldn’t allow me to go. Was this any better than having a father who controlled my every move? On a whim, I tried the door, but it was locked from the outside.

Grimacing, I moved to the window.
My car is still down there somewhere
, I realized, although my keys were long gone. Harry had taken the money from my purse Thursday night, but who knew what he’d done with the rest of its contents? I shivered, recalling Harry’s death in the cabin—I’d seen some surprisingly gruesome things in nursing school, but nothing so immediate in its violence. And Raymond—what would he do now? He’d be furious with me and with Enzo, looking to get revenge. Would his father be able to rein him in? I turned from the window just as Enzo unlocked and opened the door.

Despite my anger, the sight of him still wound me up—had he gotten better looking overnight? His hair was perfectly coiffed, his collar tight, the bruise on his cheek not dark enough to mar his handsome face. “You know, you could knock,” I snapped.

A smile tipped his lips as he closed the door behind him. “You’re not happy to see me?”

I crossed my arms. “What are you doing here? I thought you were sending your
driver
for me, so we wouldn’t be seen together
in public
.”

He came toward me, detangled my arms and slipped his around my waist. “I couldn’t stay away.” His lips pressed to mine, setting my heart pounding, but I didn’t open my mouth. How badly I wanted to give in and fall back into bed with him, but this wasn’t the pattern I wanted to set. Our affair had to be secret, but he didn’t get to make all the rules, deciding how and when we could see each other.

I pulled back. “I’d like to go home now, Enzo. I haven’t been there since Thursday night. I need to let my sisters know it’s safe to return, and I want a bath and some new clothes.” Tilting my head, I added, “Or am I being too mouthy and demanding?”

He put his face in my neck and kissed my throat. “Mmmmm. You smell good. But a bath could be arranged.”

I twisted out of his embrace. “No. Not here.”

“Why not?”

Gesturing toward him, I said, “I see you’ve managed to get cleaned up—I don’t even have a comb, let alone clean clothes.” I pulled my navy dress from my body. “You do realize I was wearing this the night Harry kidnapped me. Is it too much to ask that I be allowed to change out of it?

He smiled. “I’ll help you out of it.”

I sighed and shut my eyes, my shoulders slumping. “You’re impossible.”

“For God’s sake, Tiny, you’re more fun when you’re mad at me.”

My eyes snapped open and my voice took on a hard edge. “You want me to get mad? Now
there’s
something that could be arranged.”

“Ah. There she is.” He straightened his coat. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait. I can’t let you leave until your father arrives and some kind of agreement is reached, or my father will have my head.” He was so cool about it, as if last night hadn’t happened at all.

“You once said our fathers’ business had nothing to do with us.”

“Yes. I believe that was
before
you sold Sam Scarfone the hearses which he then used to hijack a very large, very pricey, shipment of mine.”

“I told you, I didn’t know what he was—”

“Shhh.” He reached for me again. Wrapping one arm around my back, he brushed my tangled hair back from my face. “Things are what they are between us, Tiny,” he whispered, digging his fingers into my waist. “But let’s not tarnish them with more lies.”

My lower lip quivered. His eyes were black as night and his expression was tight—whether he was controlling his rage or his passion, I couldn’t tell. I said nothing as he traced my lips with one finger.

“I believe this affair could be mutually beneficial,” he went on, “but in order for that to happen, you and I are going to have to trust each other a little bit. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes.” My voice cracked on the word.

“So tell me the truth.” The arm around me tightened further, bowing my back. “Did you know Scarfone was planning the heist?” He rubbed one finger back and forth across my lower lip.

Suddenly I was tired of lying about what I’d done. There hadn’t been a choice. I looked him in the eye and lifted my chin. “I did what I had to do to protect my family.”

His brow twitched, as if he were surprised I had admitted it. “Yes, you did. I like that about you.” His finger slipped inside my mouth, and without thinking I ran the tip of my tongue across it. He smiled. “You have a talent for deception, Tiny. And I’m glad, because you’re going to need it. This is only the beginning.”

He removed his finger and put his lips on mine again, more insistent this time, his tongue slashing into my mouth. Despite my earlier decision not to give in, I craved the pleasure and pain our bodies could bring to one another, and I wanted the powerful abandon I felt making him lose control. When the kiss grew reckless, I struggled to get my arms free and reached for the buttons on his coat.

He shocked me by grabbing my shoulders and setting me at arm’s length from him.

“What?”

After a moment, he said, “You can go.”

“Huh?”

“You can go home.” He lowered his arms and adjusted his collar. “I’ll have my driver come for you in ten minutes.”

I stuck my hands on my hips, tempted to slap him again. “I hate your games.”

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “How much do you owe him?”

“Who?”

“Your friend. Lupo. How much did he give you to pay my father off?”

My jaw tightened. Something about this scene was too familiar. “None of your business.”

“Goddammit, Tiny.” He pointed a finger at me. “You’re not to owe him anything—not money, not information, not favors. This is part of our deal, now tell me what he gave you.”

I had to think about it, Joey had given me so much. “Fifty-six hundred.”

“Fine.” He counted some bills in his wallet—five one-thousand dollar bills and six hundreds—then held them out.

I looked down at the money in his hand. “Why are you doing this? You think you can buy me?” Straightening my shoulders, I stood a little taller. “I’m not for sale.”

He picked up my hand, smashed the money into my palm, and curled my fingers around it. “Sweetheart, everyone’s for sale.”

As he stormed out, I took off one shoe and hurled it at him, but it hit the door just as it slammed shut.

#

I got home in time to see Daddy before he left for his meeting with the DiFiores. Although I was desperate to clean up, I needed him to know how important it was that he co-operate with them and not say anything rash or foolish. I found him in the kitchen, heating up the iron on the stove. His best shirt and trousers were draped over the kitchen table.

He was thrilled to see me, but I didn’t feel as if he understood there was still danger ahead, even though he was free. “Just agree to what they say,” I begged him. “If they ask for a percentage, don’t argue.”

He nodded, but his face darkened. “I’ll say what I have to, but I hate them for what they did to us. You can bet if I find a way to pay them back, I’ll take it.”

My head, which had been aching for days, threatened to split wide open. “Please, Daddy. You have no idea what I went through to get you released, to keep the girls safe. I need you to avoid the mistakes you made before. If you want to be in the bootlegging business, you pay up. Either that or find something else to do.”

I thought he might argue but he didn’t. Instead, he turned from the stove and took me in his arms, kissing my head. “You’re so like your mother,” he said. “She was no bigger than a minute, but she was smart and feisty and brave, just like you. Thank you for everything you did. I’ll make things right, I promise.”

Given his temper and his proclivity for gambling, I wondered if that was possible. My throat closed and I took deep breaths to keep the tears at bay. He smelled like himself now—soap and shaving cream and maybe a hint of gasoline. He patted my back. “Don’t worry about anything.”

Before he left, he told me that Bridget had phoned this morning, frantic with worry. He’d assured her everything was fine and that it was safe to come home.

I really hoped that was true.

Once Daddy was gone, I ate two pieces of toast and phoned Evelyn’s house, but her father said she was working. I thanked him and hung up, thinking maybe I’d head over to the bakery after I bathed and dressed. What a story I had for her. I wasn’t even sure what I should tell her, or what would be safe for her to know. After trudging wearily up the stairs, I undressed and ran a bath.

Slipping all the way under the water, I held myself there until my lungs felt like they might burst before surfacing again and rubbing the water from my eyes. After washing my hair and scrubbing myself with a bar of Ivory soap, I dried off and dressed in a white blouse and black skirt. When my hair was combed and dry, I put on a little makeup. Checking my reflection in the mirror, I noticed something on my bed that hadn’t been there before. I turned around to look more closely, and saw that it was the blue Tiffany box.

I sat down and stared at it.
The necklace?
Had I missed it earlier? I lifted off the top, and there it was. Underneath it was a note.

You made it yours the other night.

I scowled.

How dare he give me this after the way he treated me this morning? Who does he think he is? He bought this for another woman!

But within seconds, my blood settled a bit.
Hold on. You got what you wanted this morning, didn’t you? He let you go. And he gave you the money to pay Joey back.

Except I couldn’t let it go. Enzo had told me what ultimately mattered to him—power, wealth, control.
I’m just one more cog in the machine he’s building to get everything he wants. What about what I want?

I held up the necklace, watching the diamonds catch the sunlight through my open window. Never in a million years had I thought I’d own a piece of jewelry like this.

I went to the mirror over my dresser, draping the necklace around my neck. Then I frowned. Where the hell would I ever wear it? My life was no different than before, was it? I was a still just a struggling nursing student with one short leg, living at home, working for and answering to Daddy. Wasn’t I?

Not exactly—you answer to Enzo now too
, said a voice inside me. And he’d promised to pay me not only enough for tuition, but more. What would that mean?

Stomach jumping, I clasped the necklace, lowered my arms, and stared at myself. The truth was, I wasn’t the same girl at all. And when I was with Enzo,
that way
, I felt as if I could have anything I wanted.