Page 6 of Caruso (Vegas Mafia #3)

Chapter Six

Matteo

M y little caged bird intrigues me. Simon ran a background check on her, and on the surface, she has nothing. Her apartment turns out to be one room in a shared block. That district alone isn’t safe for a man, let alone a woman like her.

It hasn’t escaped my attention how insanely attracted I am to her.

When she gazed into my eyes with her beautiful soulful ones, I was lost. She has a bravery that impresses me, and I like how she remains guarded but not afraid.

She fascinates me, which is why I have decided to dine with her tonight.

To test my fascination and indulge in my love of a woman’s company.

My brothers are out tonight. Giorgio sawing the legs off our other guest and Tommaso prowling the hotel, usually ending up with a guest for the night in one of the empty rooms.

I indulge in that pastime occasionally. Seducing the clientele is a game we have all played without revealing our identities. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, and there are many willing women who pass through our gold-edged revolving doors.

Not tonight, though. I have a more fascinating option, and as she wanders into the room, my breath deserts me.

She is stunning.

Her hair is washed and tumbles on top of her head, framing her beautiful face that requires no make-up at all.

Her huge eyes burn into mine with curiosity rather than desire, and her slender frame is accentuated by the gold sequined dress I delivered to her closet.

I ordered it from the store we use when we have guests, and I obviously guessed her size correctly.

She is barefoot, no high heels needed because she must stand five feet seven, a tall, willowy beauty who would grace a catwalk in the starring role she is so beautiful.

I watch her approach, my whiskey swirling around the crystal glass I have grasped in my hand, and as I admire her, she holds eye contact, a small smile of appreciation on her lips.

“Matteo.”

“Taylor.”

She smiles, her perfect white smile a natural one rather than from a dentist’s chair.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Water, please.”

I raise my eyes, and she shrugs. “I never drink any different unless you count two coffees a day, one when I wake and one after dinner.”

I note her slender frame and wonder if food features much in her life, and I point to the table I had set for two that sits beside a view of Vegas.

“I have water.”

She smiles as she makes for the seat, and I surprise myself by pulling the chair out like the gentleman I am definitely not.

As I push it home, my fingers brush against her neck, and a surprising sensation confuses me. Desire, lust, protective—mine.

All of the above, and as I pour her some water from the carafe, I wonder when I became a waiter in her life.

I take my seat opposite and regard her with curiosity. Her slender fingers grasp the glass as she sips small mouthfuls of the cool iced water. Her nails are bare, straight cut and unmanicured, reminding me of how different she is from the usual women I seek the company of.

She’s not of my world. We are oceans apart, and yet here we are now.

“The man you killed is named Zachariah Brown. He’s a salesman of men’s haircare products and travels most of the time.”

She says nothing and merely sips her water, listening as if I am discussing the weather.

“He is single, with no wife, no children and lives on a trailer park on the outskirts of Oregon. His record includes several appearances for rape, but they have never been proven, probably because he chooses maids and hookers to attack. ”

She raises her eyes. ”And they don’t count, I presume.”

There’s steel in her gaze, and I shrug. “I never said that.”

I point to the covered dish in front of her.

“Please, I took the liberty of ordering a selection of starters. I wasn’t sure of your tastes.”

For the first time I get a reaction, and I’m mesmerized when her eyes soften and fill with grateful tears, and I openly stare.

“Thank you.”

Her voice trembles, and her fingers shake as she reaches for the water, and I realize how that one thoughtful act has undone her.

I’m guessing she hasn’t experienced many of those, and a protective streak powers through my soul.

Her eyes light up when she sees the carefully arranged delicacies my chef provided, and her smile almost blinds me with its brilliance.

As she eats, I struggle to maintain my cool because every twist of her mouth and bob of her throat registers with my raging libido.

“You’re not eating.”

She smiles with concern, and I smile. “Sorry.”

As I turn my attention to the food, I ask casually, “So, Taylor Harvey, what made you walk in off the strip and apply for a job at The Artemis?”

“Is this another interview?”

Her eyes dance with mischief, and I shrug. “If you like. ”

“I’m sorry to say it’s because you were hiring and not because I simply had to work here as my life’s ambition.”

“You’re not saying the right things, baby girl.”

Her eyes widen, and a soft blush steals across her face, and she quickly glances away.

“Actually, I’ve burned my bridges at most of the establishments I’ve worked. You are my last shot at remaining in Vegas.”

“Ouch!”

She giggles, and I take a deep breath because I was right. She does fascinate me, and in a good way.

“What happened before?”

“What always happens.”

She sighs, and her fork hovers against the food as she says sadly, “They want me for something else. For what I can give them outside of my job description and when I fight back, they toss my ass back onto the street.”

“I see.”

I’m not surprised because I’m no different from them. There is something so attractive about this woman. It’s the innocence wrapped in beauty that bewitches, and I understand how hard that makes it for her.

She sighs. “Mrs. Joyce was so kind to me. She didn’t hit on me, and she recognized I needed food and gave me an opportunity. Then I repaid her by murdering one of the guests. You have every right to call the cops and wash your hands of me.”

“Do you want me to?”

“No, of course not, but I would understand if you did. ”

She angles her head to one side, and those gray eyes power down to my soul. It’s all in the eyes. The mirror to her soul, and we are both aware that I am no different from the rest. I want her too, and I will not deny that.

“There will be no cops.”

I reassure her, and she visibly relaxes.

“Thank you.”

She hesitates. “I suppose you want me to leave.”

“Why?”

“Because of what I did.”

“I’ve done worse. I’m not judging you.”

Her eyes widen, but she’s not horrified by my words, and she smiles softly. “I know.”

“What do you know?”

“That you deal with your problems without involving anyone else. I kind of admire that about you.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“On the streets. I told you; I’ve had many jobs in this town, and they all told me that you—your family—weren’t the kind to put up with shit. I like that and admire the quality.”

She replaces her fork, and I note her empty plate, whereas mine has been barely touched.

“You’re hungry.”

I state the obvious, and she nods. “Food is a luxury the unemployed can’t afford.”

If anything, it makes me angry, and as I text my chef for the next course, I stand.

“Come, I want to show you something.”

She doesn’t hesitate and takes my hand, and as our fingers entwine, a thrill shoots through me as our flesh connects. My wild angel—mine.

We head through the open door onto a terrace that wraps around the hotel, and she gasps as the warmer air hits her. The lights dance beneath us, and as I lead her over to the edge, I turn and raise her fingers to my lips. “You are a beautiful woman, Taylor. “

She accepts my compliment and smiles. “You are a handsome man, Matteo. I’m guessing attractive women are plentiful in your life.”

“They are.”

I make no excuses but say with sincerity. “You are the most beautiful one yet.”

She nods, a broad smile lighting her face, and I can’t help myself and reach out and touch her hair. “You disguise your blonde hair—why?”

“I am disguising myself; hiding away because the person I was has gotten me into trouble too many times.”

“Tell me about your stepfather.”

Her eyes cloud with misery.

“He is a brute. He met my mother, and when she died, he turned his attention to me.”

“What did she die of?”

“An overdose.”

She shrugs as she turns and stares out over the edge, a lost soul searching the bright lights for answers.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“How old were you?”

“I was ten years old. ”

It’s as if knives are scraping against my nerves as I picture her upbringing. She turns and surprises me by holding her hand flat against my face; her soft touch startles me way more than a punch.

“Don’t feel sorry for me, Matteo. Shit happens in life, and it’s made me the person I am. Don’t worry, I’m stronger than I look.”

“You are an assassin in bare feet.”

She laughs and shrugs. “Killer heels is the right description. It hurts less this way.”

She leans a little closer and whispers, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

I can’t look away, and my breath hitches when she whispers, “Do you want to have sex with me, Matteo, because I’d rather you were honest about that?”

I say nothing and gaze into her intriguing eyes that hold no anger, judgment or pain, merely curiosity.

“I won’t lie, I would like that very much, but I’m not going to force you into anything. You deserve my respect.”

I shake my head. “You may not believe this, but I wanted your company, not your body, tonight. That was my intention until I discovered how intriguing you are. Yes, I am attracted to you, and yes, I would love nothing more than to indulge in the pleasure of your body, but I can’t offer you more than that, so it wouldn’t be fair. ”

“I see.”

She half turns, and I hold my breath as she gazes into the distance and then turns back to me and leans a little closer, taking my hand in hers.

“I’m kind of intrigued myself, to be honest, so if you like, we can satisfy our curiosity, and I promise not to murder you in the process.”

For the first time in my life, I am speechless. I don’t know what to say because, of course I want her, more than any woman before her, and yet that would place me in the same box as the rest of them.

Then she blows my mind as she says huskily, “The trouble is, you would be my first, and I’m not sure if you’re okay with that.”