Heartless Sinner, page 4
I drove one of my own cars to pick her up, a comfortable, higher end Audi coupe—black and sleek on the outside, and quiet and luxurious on the inside. Marco favored loud, flashy sports cars, but I preferred something more understated—and with plenty of secret security options added on. You never knew who might be after you, or when, and I was a man who liked to be prepared for anything.
Because this thing between Marla and I wasn’t public just yet—whatever ‘this thing’ was—I had her wait for me at the park around the corner from her house, so nobody would gossip when they saw who was picking her up.
My dick stirred in my pants and my jaw just about dropped when I saw her. Holy shit. Her thick dark hair was pulled back and up in a kind of braided bun that had me itching to undo it and run my fingers through the strands. The sophisticated style exposed the pale column of her neck and the slope of her slender shoulders, making my mouth water to taste her creamy skin. And the dress she was wearing—the daring dark red, the strapless top, and the fitted skirt that accentuated her gorgeous legs all the way down to her fuck me heels—the outfit was practically screaming for me to rip it off her body.
Down, boy, I reminded myself. I wasn’t about to ravish her in the back of my car, as much as I wanted to. I’d seen the way her breath had hitched and her eyes had gone dark as I’d stood close to her last night. There was no doubt in my mind that I could coax her into wanting me, at least in bed. But I wasn’t in this for a quick fuck. I wanted more than just her enticing figure and soft curves—but I couldn’t deny that the things I could do to her tight, sexy body to make her scream with pleasure would just be a fantastic bonus.
Pulling up to the curb, I got out of the car and walked around to the other side, opening the passenger door for her. “You look stunning.”
Marla raked her gaze over me. I could tell she appreciated the bespoke suit, her pretty blue eyes darkening and her throat bobbing around a swallow. “You clean up well.”
“A high compliment, coming from you,” I replied, amused with her comment.
Marla narrowed her eyes at me, evidently not ready to be that easily influenced, and got into the car. Once I was driving on the main road, I reached into the center console for the item I’d put there earlier, then dropped the present in her lap. I figured it would be rude to put her on the spot by giving it to her at the dinner table, in public.
Marla stared down at the dark velvet box with no small amount of suspicion. Her wary expression was actually pretty damn adorable, although I wouldn’t ever have told her so out loud. I had a feeling she wouldn’t like me calling her cute. Yet.
“It’s not a ring,” I told her, certain that’s what she feared was inside. “But consider it an engagement present.” The first of many presents. I had every intention of showing her my appreciation regularly.
“I suppose crime does pay rather well,” Marla murmured, her tone one of quiet frustration.
There was some kind of story behind her tone, I was sure of it. But I didn’t dare ask. Not yet. Not when she didn’t trust me.
Marla slowly opened the small box and I heard her swift inhale before she tried to cover up her shock so she wouldn’t let me know I’d surprised her. That maybe, possibly, I’d impressed her.
“The earrings were Cartier,” I said, explaining my choice of jeweler. “And you do strike me as a bit of a wildcat.”
The white-and-black diamond jaguar pendant curled around like it was on the prowl, two green emeralds for its eyes, hanging from a platinum chain. Marla’s fingertips reverently stroked the jeweled cat before she quickly shut the box again.
“You can’t just buy me with gifts,” she pointed out, as if I’d somehow missed the pleased, awed look in her eyes.
She liked the necklace. She just didn’t want to admit it.
“I want revenge for my brother,” Marla added in a dignified tone. “And I want a man who’s my equal. I’m not a spoiled pet.”
“I would never treat you that way,” I said, a bit of an unyielding growl entering my voice as I addressed her. “I don’t want a woman who will just sit around and look pretty, or one who only wants a man for the gifts he can give her. If that was the case, I could have picked any of those other women in those files you saw last night. But I’m sure you want someone who’ll treat you like you deserve. You have high standards. Allow me to try and meet them.”
Marla bit her lip at my firm tone, and I saw her shift in her seat a little. Oh, she liked it when I got assertive with her. A thrill shot up my spine as I imagined the things I’d love to do to her with that in mind…
I nearly missed the turn to the restaurant, caught up in thoughts of taking her home with me tonight and doling out a little discipline, but I made it to the valet in time for our reservation.
When I helped Marla out of the car, she stared up at the establishment in shock. “This is impossible. We’re not eating here.”
“At Masa?” I asked, feigning ignorance. “Why not?”
“Reservations have to be made two months in advance,” Marla spluttered. She sounded both confused and like she was barely holding back her excitement.
I couldn’t resist a grin as I placed a hand at the small of her back and led her toward the entrance. “Luckily, I know the owner.”
“You know Masa Takayama!?” Marla hissed, unable to stop her fangirling from overtaking her efforts to not be impressed by me.
I held back a chuckle. Oh, this was going to be a fun evening.
CHAPTER 6
Marla
* * *
I’d had no intention of actually being dazzled by Vincent tonight, but this was more than I would have expected from the son of a mafioso.
Obliging me by taking me out to dinner and showing me that he would be a good husband instead of some drunk who slept around, or an idiot who would get himself capped before he hit forty. I figured Vincent would just flaunt his wealth a little, take me to a restaurant frequented by his family in their territory so I could feel how powerful he was, and that would be it. This would be an opportunity for me to weigh the price of my soul against the life of my brother.
But so far Vincent had been… he’d been nothing like what I’d expected.
First off, he’d been smart enough to pick me up around the corner so that nobody in my family would know what was up before it was time to announce things. Secondly, he’d driven his own car, no driver required. I didn’t know of a single guy that high up in a mafia family who actually drove his own vehicle. I knew it was usually for security reasons—the driver was also a bodyguard—but still, it was nice to see that Vincent Russo was a man who could do things on his own and didn’t want or need an entourage.
Then the necklace. It was beautiful. I’d been overwhelmed with shock and awe as I’d looked down at it. He’d recognized that my earrings were Cartier, which meant he paid a lot more attention to women than most men—and it meant he knew his jewelry. His knowledge probably shouldn’t have surprised me. Mafia smuggled gemstones and planned jewelry heists along with the many other forms of crime but I had to admit that all his efforts had more than flustered me. I’d been so determined to remain indifferent to Vincent, and instead he’d blown all my preconceived notions about him out of the water.
Now we were at Masa. The most expensive and exclusive restaurant in New York City. And Vincent knew the owner? The famous sushi chef?
Well played, Vincent Russo. Well played.
My head spun as we were ushered into the intimate dining room, the lighting bright enough to enjoy the carefully-chosen wood décor but low enough to create an intimate atmosphere. I’d always been a huge fan of Asian cuisine, especially Japanese, but—how did Vincent know that?
We were shown to our table, and Vincent pulled out my chair for me and I settled into my seat. “You have a lot of friends, it seems,” I said, once he was sitting across from me.
“You’re not the only one with a fondness for Asian food—don’t tell my father.” Vincent smiled at me, a light and teasing smile that was nothing like the smirks he’d given me before. It softened his face a little and I found I liked it. “He’s a die-hard Italian. Nothing will ever be as good as his Nona’s pomodoro sauce.”
I found myself smiling back. Pull yourself together, girl. “You know a lot about me too,” I said. “And you found it out quite quickly. Just like you got this reservation quite quickly.”
Vincent tilted his head in acknowledgment. There was something both casual and dangerous about him, and I honestly couldn’t tell which was drawing me to him more.
I shouldn’t be drawn to him at all. I should be wary of this attraction. But I couldn’t help but feel… intrigued. Curious. Pulled in like a magnet.
“I’m a resourceful man,” Vincent replied. “And a well-connected one. Both valuable things if you want justice for your brother.”
The server approached us with the wine menu. My mouth watered in anticipation. Masa, like many higher-class restaurants, did a tasting menu where the chef decided for you what you were going to eat. I was practically drooling in excitement.
I was also well aware that this dinner, not including wine, cost about six hundred a person. This was the kind of money Dmitri would’ve been happy to spend, but he spent it like water, reckless, not calculated the way Vincent was.
“Red or white?” Vincent asked.
“Oh. Red.” I was surprised that he was asking. Most mafia men I knew had an alpha complex and I was sure Vincent was no different, but those men didn’t ever bother to ask for your opinion. They weren’t conscientious of our needs.
Vincent looked at the server. “What would you recommend? We’re not looking for anything too strong.”
The other man made his recommendation, and Vincent agreed with a nod. “That sounds good. Thank you.”
Once our wine was brought to us and the waiter left us alone again, I asked the question that had been swirling in my mind since last night. “So, how would this. . . arrangement work? What would you expect from me?”
Vincent didn’t even pretend to think about it. He was prepared, just like I was. This wasn’t just a date. It was a contract negotiation.
“As my wife, you would be a member of the community, preferably charities, although which charities and how exactly you wanted to do that would be up to you. Some women prefer to work in a more hands-on way, volunteering, running local community centers… others like to host parties to raise money, fundraise, that sort of thing.”
I nodded. Mom didn’t do that sort of thing, but we weren’t high profile like the Russo’s.
“We’ll live together, of course,” he went on. “I can arrange for us to get a bigger place if you feel my apartment isn’t appropriate. You might want an extra room of your own outside of our master suite. I don’t know what your hobbies are.”
“Oh, you don’t?” I asked lightly, tilting my head.
Vincent gave me a look like he wanted to put me over his knee and my breath caught, heat flooding through me. I had never responded so strongly to someone like this and it was disconcerting to me how badly I wanted to explore this attraction.
“I’m good, but I don’t know everything about you. That’s not possible through research and surveillance and definitely not in a day.” Vincent smirked, confident, like a wolf scenting a deer.
It really shouldn’t make me melt inside. Outwardly, I bristled.
Vincent seemed amused by my attitude. Like I wasn’t throwing anything at him that he couldn’t handle. “Point is, our spaces will be the same so if you want to change anything, we can talk about it. You want a grand piano, not a problem. You want to repaint the walls, we’ll chat.”
Our food was served, and for a second I completely forgot about Vincent. I had always dreamed about eating at this place, sushi served by a true master chef. Short of going to Japan, this was the best I would ever get.
I took the food we were offered and popped it into my mouth, a moan escaping me. It was so good. I’d never had so many flavors working harmoniously in my mouth like this. It was perfection.
When I finished it off with a generous sip of my wine, I realized that Vincent was looking at me. No, staring. His eyes, already dark, looked like two black holes as they bore into me. His lips were slick, like he’d just licked them, and there was a look of hunger on his face that had lightning shooting down my spine.
My skin felt too hot, too small. He looked like—like he wanted to devour me. And I suddenly thought—that I wanted him to.
“What do you expect between you and I, intimately,” I asked, as our next round of the tasting menu was brought to us.
“We’ll discuss that later.” Vincent’s voice was a purr. “Enjoy the meal.”
I knew in that moment that Vincent didn’t care as much about the food—he cared more about watching me enjoy it.
Part of me wanted to be stubborn. To eat my meal in silence with a blank face. But God, the food was just so good. I couldn’t keep myself from making noises of appreciation with each new bite I took. I felt like I was melting into my chair as I sampled the most delicious, exquisite food I’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
The wine was perfect too. Honestly, everything was perfect. This was like a dream date. The kind I’d foolishly hoped to find when I left the mafia life.
That would never happen now, I reminded myself. Instead I was going to be with exactly the kind of man that I’d always warned myself to never fall for.
Not that I was falling for him. I’d known him for less than twenty-four hours. That would be ridiculous. But I was attracted to him, and that seemed just as dangerous.
By the time we finished our meal, I was feeling pleasantly full, with a subtle buzz in my body from the alcohol. I hadn’t had a nice meal at a pleasant restaurant in ages, and I’d certainly never had a meal as amazing as this one. This was going to stick in my mind for the rest of my life.
Vincent smiled at me. It was… dare I say fond? “Enjoyable?”
“Very,” I admitted. “Probably the best meal I’ve had in my life.”
Vincent nodded, looking satisfied, but not in a smug way. It was in a quiet kind of way that I found I liked. It was the satisfaction of a job well done.
He paid, of course, and even wrote the server a little thank you note on the check. “They don’t accept tips or any kind of gratuity here,” he explained. “Following Japanese hospitality custom.”
Then he stood and offered me his arm. “Shall we walk off the meal and finish our talk?”
Our talk. Oh my God, like an idiot in all the course of the meal I’d forgotten what the purpose of this whole thing was. This wasn’t a date, and I’d asked him about the intimate aspect of our marriage.
I took his arm and allowed him to walk me out. “There’s one thing I’d like to address. Heirs. You’ll need them. Are you expecting… I mean…”
I stumbled over my words and felt my face heat up. I felt like an idiot schoolgirl all over again.
Vincent stopped walking before we reached the valet. “I would never force a woman to be with me against her will. I will never be cruel or hurt you. But I don’t think sex between us is going to be a problem.”
I swallowed hard. “You can’t possibly know that,” I retorted.
Vincent tugged on my arm and pressed me against him, his other arm coming around my waist. My hand landed on his chest and I could feel every bit of firm muscle underneath his sleek, dark gray suit. Jesus, he was firm everywhere, and I doubted that if I squeezed I’d get any give.
“If you think that I haven’t noticed how you look at me…” Vincent’s voice was low and heated, dripping with sex, and I could feel that lightning up my spine again.
“I…” I couldn’t complete the sentence. I didn’t even know what I was going to say.
Vincent’s free hand came up under my chin, tipping it up, up, up until his gaze locked on mine. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“Why don’t I take you home, and we’ll find out just how that part of our relationship will go?”
I should say no. I should tell him that I wasn’t interested—not until it was my duty as his wife. I was already planning to sell my soul for revenge, giving up my life to be with this dangerous, powerful man that I barely knew. I shouldn’t complicate the situation by having sex with him this quickly. It was the height of stupidity.
“Perhaps a little taste,” Vincent said—and then his mouth was on mine.
And I melted completely.
CHAPTER 7
Vincent
* * *
Kissing Marla felt like a revelation.
Listening to her moan her way through dinner had me worried that I wouldn’t be able to stand up from the table. My cock twitched with every sound that she made, the moments she used her fingers to eat instead of the chopsticks, the way her throat bobbed when she sipped her wine. She’d never fully relaxed, but she had lost herself in the enjoyment of the meal, the atmosphere, and it had been a pleasure just to watch her… be happy.
When we got up after dinner, I knew that the question was going to come up again. Sex. I wanted her. And I was sure that she wanted me, even if she tried to pretend otherwise. She bristled every time she started to show me her attraction, every time we started to let the wall between us lower a little.
I knew I didn’t have her heart, not yet. Not after one night. But I could damn well do something about the sexual tension sparking between us.
Having her in my arms felt right. Her soft body pressed against mine felt like every answer to every question I’d ever asked.
I kissed her slow, teasing at first, and Marla gasped, trembling against me. Her hands squeezed my arms, like she was testing if I could hold her, and I tightened my arm around her waist in response. Marla moaned, just like she’d moaned at dinner, and I felt her knees give out as she kissed me back enthusiastically.
