Page 33 of Caruso (Vegas Mafia #3)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Taylor

T ommaso takes my breath away, and not in a good way. He makes me question everything I have worked so hard for. Around him, I am weak, defenseless and tongue-tied. He gives me no assurances—hell, I don’t even think he likes me.

Why does that turn me on so much?

Three brothers with three very different personalities who all appeal to me in different ways. Two can’t keep their hands off me; one can’t bear to touch me at all.

He interests me the most.

I fall silent, my mind spinning with this information. Jason is here. In Vegas. It may not be him. It probably isn’t him; the coincidence is too unbelievable.

Why is he here? Did he discover it’s where I am? Did he come here to find me?

I am on edge, my fingers tangling in my lap as I attempt to focus. Tommaso is taking me to Jason. I should be grateful, but there is something telling me he has an ulterior motive for this.

Matteo never mentioned it last night. He wants me to tread carefully around his brother, but why exactly?

So many thoughts are running through my mind, but one in particular has spiked my pulse and heated my blood.

Tommaso is ticking every box I have. He is a dark enigma, slightly scary, gruff and frankly rude.

Belligerent, secretive and unforthcoming, and yet the man himself is so beautiful it hurts to look at him.

His hair is as black as ink and is swept back with not a strand out of place.

His dark eyes spill venom, and he is clean shaven revealing his cut-glass jaw.

Like his brothers, he is well built, his muscles straining against the open-necked black silk shirt he appears to love.

A smattering of dark hair mixes with the ink on his chest, and his hands alone could wrestle a bear.

He wears heavy silver rings on each hand and an expensive gold watch that sits heavy on his wrist. He is surly, bad tempered but stares at me with acute hunger, and I can only imagine how he would eat me up and spit out my carcass if he ever got his hands on me.

But Jason is here.

My heart softens and lights with excitement. The only friend I have ever had, the one man I physically ache to find.

What will happen if it’s him? Will my life change again on the turn of a meeting?

So many possibilities crash through my mind, and then the car stops suddenly, and the door flies open, and I stare out at the entrance to the Palazzo hotel and two of Tommaso’s guards, waiting ominously for us to vacate the car.

“Are you ready?”

His deep voice commands me, and I nod as Tommaso slips from the car, pausing at the door, extending his hand to mine.

That act alone shocks me more than anything because he prefers not to touch.

As my hand settles in his, it shocks me. Electricity sizzles between us as his touch supercharges every nerve in my body. My eyes lift to his, and I note the deepening emotion in them as he stares at me with all the power of a god, one who could ruin me with a snap of his fingers.

How does he have so much power over me? It’s not like anything I experience with his brothers. Different somehow, and as he pulls me from the car, he almost appears irritated by me, and I shrivel up inside. I am no match for him, and we both know it.

I wish I had dressed up for the occasion. That is apparent as we enter the five-star luxury of The Artemis’s main competition. The dress code is smarter, more refined, and Tommaso looks as if he belongs here—I do not.

I appear like a scruffy waif beside him.

My casual clothing has no place in his life.

He deserves a refined woman to walk by his side.

Someone with their shit together, aloof, beautiful and poised.

A model perhaps. Somebody who basks in the public eye and welcomes the attention.

The perfect distraction for Tommaso. Keeping the attention focused on her, away from him—just as he likes it.

I am the hired help, and this is the first time I have really felt that.

I don’t measure up, and the slightly disdainful glances as they settle on me sharpen the knives in my vanity.

I attempt to shrink smaller, disappear altogether, and as I hang back, I’m surprised when Tommaso pulls me roughly by his side and hisses, “You will walk tall beside me. Own your space here and defy anyone who thinks differently.”

I do as he says, standing a little taller, more confident even, acting as if I do truly belong here, even though its evident I don’t.

I can be whoever I want to be for sure, but a match for Tommaso, even I’m not that deluded.

“Where are we going?”

I’m impatient for knowledge now I’m aware it concerns me.

“I have word he is dining at the Crucible. We will surprise him.”

“What is the Crucible?” It’s nine-thirty in the morning, and that sounds too grand for breakfast.

“A restaurant, obviously.”

He shakes his head but grips my hand a little tighter, and for some reason that settles my nerves.

I wonder if there is a lighter side to this man. I doubt I will ever see it, but one can hope.

We reach the restaurant, and the server on door duty appears a little flustered when she notes our arrival, and I don’t blame her. Tommaso is a threat just by breathing, and flanked by security, she must wonder who the hell we are.

“A table for two.”

He spares words; that’s obvious, and I cringe inside at his lack of common decency.

“Two?” She glances at the four men accompanying us and Tommaso nods. “Two.”

She grabs some menus and shrugs. “Follow me.”

As we follow her, I keep my eyes open for a familiar face. Is Jason really here? Is it possible?

As we walk past marble columns and potted trees, I scan the area, noting the server stop at a booth set in the corner of the room.

I slip into my seat so I get a good view of the restaurant, and I’m surprised when Tommaso takes the seat beside me rather than the one opposite.

The server hands us the menus and says respectfully, “Your waiter is John. He will be along shortly.”

She can’t get away quickly enough, and as I glance after her, I notice that the four guards have taken strategic positions around the restaurant. Two outside and two inside, hugging the walls, glancing around for any surprise attacks.

“Focus, Taylor.”

Tommaso’s deep voice returns my attention to him, and I whisper, “I can’t see him.”

“Then he is not here yet.”

“How do you know he’s coming here at all?”

“He has a reservation.”

“Which you know about because…” I resist rolling my eyes because for some reason I doubt Tommaso would appreciate a little sarcasm, and he taps his fingers on the menu and says gruffly, “We discovered he is here and have contacts at reception. After a few checks, we learned he is our man, and they briefed us on his movements. Breakfast is booked for nine-thirty for him and five others. I doubt you will miss them, so remain focused on the entrance.”

“What if it is him? Do I just go up and say hi?”

“You do what you would have done if you had seen him in the street back at Oklahoma.”

I nod, nervous as I wait for something I’m ill-prepared for. I’m still unsure what Tommaso’s reason is for bringing me here, but it sounds as if I’m about to find out.