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“I’ll bring the food to you.” He rose. She rolled to her side and studied him. He wanted her to stay. For how long? God she was tempted.

Lorenzo turned and Fabiana rolled up against his chest into his arms. He smiled and drew her into a snug embrace, his hand stroked her backside while he rested his chin on the top of her head. She was becoming a habit. One he didn’t plan to break. Dinner and dancing had recharged his battery. And her sex had him wanting to touch her skin in his dreams.

What the fuck did he care about work? Giovanni had cut his balls when he shut down Isabella’s, the gambling rooms and whores were gone. Now he was left with whatever scraps fell from the table. Hell Carlo saw more action on the front lines of dealing with business matters than him.

He closed his eyes and repressed his resentment. Fabiana had caught him by surprise. He wanted to fuck her, yes. But this, the coddling and dating was something he hadn’t done since his failed engagement. This beautiful Italian American woman drank wine to whiskey with him and laughed at his jokes. Then she fucked him every way he pleased. And even now she was blowing his mind. There was nothing to worry over. The phone rang. He frowned. His room had a private line that he shared with few. He fell to his back and reached in the dark for the ringing phone. Fabiana groaned, waking she eased on top of him. To his delight she started to kiss his chest and go lower easing down under the covers to wrap that beautiful mouth of hers around his dick.

“Hello?”

“You sleep?” Carlo asked.

“No.”

“Good.” He heard his best friend take a drag of something he was smoking, possibly marijuana. “We got trouble.”

“What else is new?”

“Calderone trouble. That is new.”

Lorenzo sat upright. He pressed the receiver end of the phone hard against his ear. He didn’t breathe, he didn’t blink, he waited.

“They think the stupid fucker is dead. I hear rumors Lo. Rumors Gio won’t like.”

Lorenzo expected the rumors. It was the truth he feared most. “And?”

“You clean?”

“What the fuck you ask me?” Lorenzo reclined back against his pillow just as Fabiana’s front teeth scraped his cock. He winced. She made it up to him with her sweet licks and kisses. Damn woman was killing him. No way his dick could summon the energy to respond.

“I’m just making sure. I have your back, I have to know if you’re dirty.”

“I’m clean. Fuck Calderone,baggiano! I can give a shit what’s happened to him.”

The line clicked off. Lorenzo dropped the phone. It dangled on its twisted cord. He arched his back from the bed as Fabiana sucked him hard and fast. To his surprise his body responded the way she instructed. Even in the midst of mind blowing pleasure, he knew the tide had turned. He had to be careful or lose it all.

Chapter Nine

“Morning.” Catalina chirped. She sashayed into her brother’s office with a tiny cup of espresso. Giovanni glanced up as the cup was set on his desk in front of him. He sat back and fixed his gaze on his sister. He’d left Mira asleep, and planned to return to her before the sun fully rose. Flavio had air-messaged documents for him to sign.

“What are you doing up this early?” Giovanni asked dryly. He closed the binder before him and eased it into the drawer he kept under lock and key.

“I was making sure breakfast was prepared for our guest. Saw the light on and knew you were in here. I am the donna of this house you know.”

Catalina wore a long blush pink robe. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, causing her long spiral curls to sway past her shoulders. He smiled at how much she looked like their mother when she was younger. Though her skin was a golden tan like her Sicilian ancestors, her face, eyes, and mannerisms were all Eve. She was his mother reincarnate. Softening he gestured for her to sit.

“I have a problem, Giovanni.”

“Do you?”

“Franco wants to move us back to Palermo when we are married. He wants to run his father’s bottling business. I want to stay in Firenze or here in Sorrento in our family home. We have more than enough room. Can’t he work for you?” she asked innocently.

“He will be your husband, so you will stay where he says.” Giovanni reclined back in his chair. “You know this.”

“Well, that’s bullshit!” she shouted.

“Watch your tongue.”

Catalina folded her arms in a full pout. “I have no say in anything. I didn’t complain when you said I had to marry Franco, I didn’t complain when you said I couldn’t have my wedding in Paris, and I didn’t complain when you said that Aurora had to be in the wedding although you know I hate her! I don’t want to live in no damn Palermo!”