“You thought I didn’t know, little girl?” Pietro laughed low in her ear. “You’re a smart girl about books, not men.”
“You mean criminals,” she growled back at him.
“Lucia…” Jon warned her, his tone telling her not to provoke him.
“No!” She wasn’t being too brave, just furious. Of course she knew there was every chance Pietro would kill her. But there was no way she was going down without a fight, and if she could distract him so that she could get free, even better.
“I know you killed my father.” She was so angry, her voice trembled.
“You found the tape Nick captured. If I’d known he was keeping videos of everything in that office…” Pietro growled. “But since I offed him, the organization has thrived. The Gamalini family needed a new face. Nick had gone soft, and everyone from the associates to the underboss”—he pointed to himself—“knew it.”
“And you also framed my brother for Judge Casale’s murder,” Jon said.
Pietro lifted a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “Oh, there’s the traitor. You fucking Fed. Yeah, I had to get Stefan out of the way first. If I didn’t, he would have killed me. Everyone knew he was loyal to Nick, through and through. He’d have done anything to protect my brother. It was easy enough. Now…” he said to Jon. “No more flapping your jaws. Put your gun down.” He jammed the gun into Lucia’s temple. “Put it down now!”
Heart racing, blood pumping icy cold with fear, she pleaded with Jon not to listen. The second he complied, Pietro would kill them both. But Jon couldn’t do it alone; she was going to have to help. Thank God Mark was such a big believer in self-defense. He’d taught Nicki and her how to keep themselves from being overpowered. And he’d made her brush up when she announced her intent to vacation at Erotics Anonymous.
Holding the key to the storage unit tight in her palm, she shifted it until it rested between her fingers. She took a deep breath, knowing she’d run out of time. This might be her death, but she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
As Jon scanned Pietro for an opening, Lucia used her free arm to elbow her uncle in the gut hard, putting every ounce of her strength behind the blow. With a grunt and a whoosh of air, he gripped his belly, the gun in his hand momentarily faltering. She used the opportunity to ram her fist—and the key—into his thigh.
“Ouch! You bitch!” Pietro snarled, gripping his thigh with one hand—and grabbing her wrist with the other before she could run away.
With his grip loosened, she whirled around and kicked at the hand holding the gun. She heard the crunch of bone. The gun fell to the ground, and he grabbed his hand with a scream.
“You broke my fucking finger!” Still, he dove for the gun.
But she was faster and snatched it up in her grip. After a quick glance, she verified that the safety was off and aimed the gun at Pietro.
Jon walked up beside her, weapon pointed right at her uncle. She glanced his way, and he nodded, giving her a raised brow and a smile. “Impressive.”
“Thank you,” she said stiffly. She didn’t dare take her eyes off her uncle. Instead, she crept closer and snarled at him, “You didn’t think I had any fight in me, did you? You thought I was a bookworm with no common sense, and that you could get the better of me easily and make Jon comply, too, with the promise that you wouldn’t hurt me. Sucker!”
“Your father would be rolling in his grave if he could see you now. It’s manly, your behavior. You know how much he liked women to be feminine and sweet.”
“Are you really going to try that tactic? You killed him. I’d say he has a hell of a lot more reasons to be rolling over in his grave for that than anything I’ve done.”
Pietro growled, revealing a row of uneven white teeth in his dark face. “I did it myself, pulled the trigger. Nothing was better than offing the older brother who’d always cast a shadow over me, always thinking he was better. I enjoyed it. I stood at his funeral with my arms around you girls and I laughed at every one of your tears.”
“I hate you.” She clenched her free fist. Jon gripped her elbow, holding her back. “Hate you in a way that I didn’t think I was capable of feeling, but you aren’t going to goad me into losing my temper so that you can get the gun back. But I’m going to give you a little payback.” Gritting her teeth, she kicked at Pietro, landing a blow right in the balls. Her uncle dropped to his knees, cupping his genitals. “That’s for my father. And this”—she slapped him across the face—“is for me.”
Jon pulled her back. “He’s down. He’s not going anywhere. And lots of FBI agents in suits are on their way to collect your uncle.”
“You can’t prove anything. It’s all circumstantial, and my word against yours. Everyone will know that you’ve been trying to frame me to free your brother for years.”
With a smile, Jon leaned into Pietro’s face. “The difference now?” He pulled his phone free from his suit pocket, all lit up and showing that it was recording. “While your niece was beating your ass, I managed to get your confession on tape.”
AFTER AN EXHAUSTING afternoon and early evening spent answering the FBI’s questions, recounting every detail of the day she and Jon had spent figuring out and following her father’s clues, a very nice female agent had brought her back to her hotel. Jon had been separated from her hours ago, and she didn’t know if or when he’d return.
After letting herself into the room, Lucia flopped onto the bed, hungry and exhausted. But she’d gladly skip both food and sleep if she could be with Jon. He’d taken her virginity on this bed and cemented her love for him. Now that he’d saved his brother, what happened next? Two years ago, he’d left her without a word. Maybe…now that he’d achieved his goal, he had no further use for her. Lucia hated to think of their time together as the means to an end for him. Nor did she like to demean herself. But she had to be honest. For all the sizzle between her and Jon, expecting more than he’d given her was probably foolish.
Still, she wasn’t going to give up.
Best to figure out how to get back to Vegas, so she could get some sage advice from her sister, then head out to give Jon Bocelli a piece of her mind. She’d gotten closure with her father, as well as gathered evidence to put Pietro away finally. That counted for a whole hell of a lot.
But Jon had made her want so much more.
Shaking her head, Lucia made a few phone calls, including one to the airline, then another to her sister. Lucia was almost relieved when she got Nicki’s voice mail. She’d rather tell her sister what was going on in person, so she could be both scolded and hugged when necessary. Now she could just spend a little time figuring out her plan.
After setting the phone down, she took a scalding shower that soothed some of her thoughts. Wearing a towel and scented lotion, Lucia opened the bathroom door in a puff of steam.
And ran straight into Jon’s wide chest.
He’d ditched his suit coat along the way, slung his tie around his neck, and clearly raked his fingers through his inky hair more than a few times. He looked tired, but was still the most gorgeous man to her. Her belly tumbled over. No matter where their lives took them from here, she’d never forget everything he’d done with and for her.
Lucia swallowed down a lump. “Hi. So…it’s over, huh? We did it. You saved your brother. I avenged my father.” She held out her hand for him to shake it. “Thank you for everything, Jon.”
He cocked his head, then pinned her with a dark stare of displeasure before glaring at her outstretched hand. Lucia dropped it to her side, having the sudden feeling that she’d poked a dangerous male animal.
Jon grabbed the knob to the bathroom door behind her and shut it, then stepped forward, pinning her between it and his formidable body. “Think you’re going somewhere, Doc?”
“I’m catching a flight back to Vegas in the morning.”
His expression turned thunderous. “Were you going to talk to me before you left?”
“I didn’t know if you were still
in town. And I wasn’t aware that you gave a damn. Two years ago, you skipped out without saying ‘gotta go,’ ‘good-bye,’ or ‘kiss my ass.’ I figured this was same song, different verse.”
“You figured, huh? Without consulting me?” Jon drew in a deep breath and stared at the ceiling, jaw clenched. “We’re not communicating here, Doc. I admit that I left you once before. I didn’t think you could handle what I wanted from you. Hell, even two days ago I had my doubts.”
Oh, now that just pissed her off.
“I was a virgin, not an idiot. Save me your big, bad Dom speech.” She rolled her eyes and tried to push past him. “I’m a grown woman who can make my own decisions. I can certainly handle whatever you dish out.”
He squarely blocked her path. “Oh, we’ll see about that, pet—as soon as you let me finish what I was saying.”
Lucia stared, measuring, a little ribbon of worry curling through her. She’d provoked him. But hadn’t some part of her wanted to? “I’m listening.”
“Since I picked you up and removed you from Girls’ Night Out,” he began, “you’ve proven to me that your inexperience was only an issue in my head. You’re brave and dedicated, and you adapt well. I held back today when Pietro confronted us to let you work out your demons with him. If he had so much as harmed a hair on your head, I’d have blown his head off. I was prepared to. My trigger finger was itching. But you handled him all by yourself.”
He sidled closer, nudging his thigh between hers. She couldn’t be immune to him. She gasped, trembling. “You handled me last night.”
The deep rumble of his voice alone made her wet, not to mention the memories of their time together in this room.
“Two years ago, I’d convinced myself that you were a naïve girl who couldn’t cope with my life or wants. You’ve proven to me that you’re a hell of a woman, Lucia. I’m proud of you. There’s no way I’m letting you get away this time. I love you. You’ll only get rid of me if you tell me that you can never love me in return.”
Lucia gasped, blinked. Really? Seriously? She probably looked foolish, standing there with her mouth agape, but Jon had just said…“You love me?”
He cocked his head, and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a smart girl. Put together the clues. What do you think?”
Her mind raced. “You don’t live far from here, do you?”
His smile told her that she was catching on. “Not far at all.”
“You could have just gone home, instead of coming here to see me.”
He planted his palms on either side of her head against the door and leaned in. He eyed her towel like it was the most offensive piece of fabric he’d ever seen. “Exactly.”
“If your cohorts let you go at the same time they released me…you’ve had time to think about this.”
“Absolutely. And plan a speech…with a few other surprises.”
A speech that started with dropping the “L bomb.” He’d done some thinking about this. What other surprises could he have in store? “I’m guessing that you don’t make a habit of telling women you love them.”
Jon raised a brow at her. “Try never.”
“Ever?”
He shook his head. “Not once. Doc, you make me remember not to look at the world through such jaded eyes. With you around, I see everything differently, and it’s a wonderful place again. For the first time in years, I’ve got something to look forward to. I’ve got hope. For that alone I could love you, but you’re also an amazing woman…” He stared at her. “So are you going to break my heart and send me packing?”
God, he couldn’t tell how she felt? Maybe he needed reassuring, just as she did. The thought was a little endearing. “I’m not going to send you packing. I love you, Jon. And I’ve never said those words, either.”
He smiled with his whole face—his whole heart—and even in the shadowy hall, she could see love warming his dark eyes. He cupped her cheek, then lowered his mouth to hers for a sweet, lingering kiss. Joy suffused her, spreading through her like sunlit heat after a long winter. That was probably cheesy and too poetic, but for her, so true. She rubbed her cheek against his and wound her arms around his neck, drawing in that masculine scent of him that was both a comfort and a turn-on.
He kissed her jaw, her nose, her lips one last time. “That makes me really happy, pet. I can’t wait to get deep inside you again and show you how much…just as soon as we address your assumptions and your smart mouth. Drop the towel.”
Lucia felt her eyes flare wide and her breath catch. “If I do, I’ll be…Oh, you want me naked.”
He raised a dark, expectant brow at her.
“Sir,” she added, unwrapping the towel and letting it drop to the floor.
With a dangerous grin, Jon picked it up and tossed it behind him, onto a nearby chair. She stood completely bare under his relentless gaze, a cool, air-conditioned breeze drifting over her skin, making her nipples harden. Just his rapt gaze traveling all over her made her wet. Without a word, the silent seconds ticked by until she felt achy, aroused, and ready. She shifted from one foot to the other, then back again, trying to ease the need.
“Hold still,” he demanded.
“I’ve got this ache…” She grimaced, trying not to move.
“That I just want to make bigger until you get incredibly wet, beg me to fuck you, then scream my name and claw my back as I satisfy you.”
The ache behind Lucia’s clit swelled and throbbed at his words. She sucked in a breath. Pretty please…she wanted to whimper. Instead, she stayed still and ate him up with a hungry stare.
He dragged a thumb across her mouth. “I can’t wait to feel whatever promise is lurking in your eyes. But first, I’ve got three questions for you, Doc.”
She couldn’t help it; she licked at his thumb. “Yes, Sir.”
He gripped her chin and sent her a solemn stare. “Are you willing to remove your great-grandmother’s locket, if I give you something equally meaningful and stunning?”
Her heart stuttered, then chugged in a crazy rhythm. If he meant to give her a symbol of their bond, she was sure her long-dead ancestor would approve. With shaking hands, she reached up and removed the vintage locket. Jon held out his hand, and she set it in the middle of his palm. Carefully, he put it in his trouser pocket, then withdrew a little blue box with the words TIFFANY & CO. on the front and gripped it.
“We don’t have witnesses, but this isn’t any less binding, Doc.” He cupped her cheek and looked into her eyes. “Lucia Rose, will you wear this for me always as a symbol of your promise to honor and obey me, as I care for and cherish you through all our days?”
It took her a moment to process his request. “You’re…asking me to wear your collar?”
“Yes. I’m asking you to be exclusively mine. This is sacred in the BDSM community.”
Even if she hadn’t read about it, she could hear the gravity in his voice. “I know.”
“I’ve never done this. I’ve never wanted to. But you changed everything for me. Will you wear this?”
Lucia bit her lip. Everything she knew about the lifestyle was from fiction. This man had been gentle with her so far, but he had depths he hadn’t shown her yet. A darker side. She felt it, but he’d kept a tight leash on it last night. If she agreed, someday he would spank and flog her, cuff her to his bed and use her in whatever way he wished. He might do any one of a million things that played into her fantasies. And she couldn’t lie; it scared her a little. But deep in her soul, she craved the sort of Master who would care for her. And Jon was offering her everything she could have ever hoped for. Even at his delicious, commanding best, he would see to her safety and pleasure. He would make everything good for her.
Besides, she wasn’t ready to let him go. If this was the way he wanted to continue their relationship, she wouldn’t turn him down.
With her heart racing and joy bursting, she nodded. “I’d love to.”
“Kneel, pet.”
Slowly,
there in the narrow hall with Jon’s voice and scent surrounding her, Lucia got to her knees, naked before him. She bowed her head.
He stroked her hair softly, filtering her curls through his fingers just before he fastened something cool and heavy around her neck. “Perfect. I look forward to keeping, protecting, and loving you.” Then he guided her to her feet, opened the bathroom door, and flipped the light on so that she could see the platinum chain with the dangling, diamond-encrusted heart nestled in the hollow of her throat, with a little lock right in the middle.
A smile curled up her lips into something happy. “It’s beautiful.”