Page 10 of Cruelest Contract (Storm’s Eye Ranch)

Getty holds Louisa’s carrier. He snorts when he sees how stiffly I respond to his brother.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my distance,” he says, offering a fist bump and ominously adding, “but only for now.”

I feel preposterous for returning his fist bump. I’m pretty sure that was his objective.

Fort, the youngest of the Tempesta brothers, simply winks and tips the brim of his hat up an inch. He has my tote bag slung over one shoulder.

With no warning, Julian decides to take my purse. There’s a seductive edge to the way his fingers slide the strap down my arm. I get the feeling he’s very aware of this and the move is intentional. He has sized me up and guessed his impact.

“You’re our guest of honor,” he says. “When you’re with us, Cecilia, you don’t need to carry a thing.”

“Nothing at all,” Fort confirms.

“All we want is you,” Getty says.

Why do I feel like every passing second is a new test?

Because it is. I’m being judged on everything from my manners to my appearance.

A line needs to be drawn somewhere and I’m drawing it now.

“Thank you, Julian. I truly appreciate the gallantry but I’m capable of carrying my own handbag.”

I snatch my purse back, half expecting him to resist. He doesn’t.

Tye whoops out some sharp laughter. I have the impression this is typical behavior from him.

“Looks like our girl might be a feisty little thing,” Tye hoots and whistles.

“Is that true?” Getty circles me with a wily grin. “Are you hungry for a challenge, Cecilia?”

He gets too close, his big body brushing across my back, and I whip my head around to keep track of him. I’m startled to come face to face with Fort instead.

“Don’t be nervous,” Fort says. He flashes a wicked smile. “We’re not as scary as we look.”

“Unless you get off on being afraid,” adds Getty, nudging his younger brother out of the way. He leans way too far into my personal space and drops his voice to a whisper. “Then we can be fucking terrifying, Cecilia. What do you think of that?”

They are trying to rattle me. They are succeeding.

But I didn’t grow up in a house full of rowdy brothers and learn nothing. Keeping my head up, battling the urge to cower, I cross my arms and wait for their juvenile antics to stop.

I’m keenly aware that Julian is watching me but I’m too busy staring Getty down to glance his way.

Tye keeps cracking up in the background. It’s possible he’s high.

Fort gets bored first and takes a long look at the sky. “Shit, if I don’t get dinner soon I’m gonna start eating this luggage.”

Getty lifts Louisa’s carrier in the air. “Got some fresh meat right here, little brother.” He smirks at me, awaiting some outrage or at least a glare. He gets neither.

Tye yawns and stretches. “Then let’s move this party out of here already.” He starts rolling my suitcase away.

Angelo finally looks up from his phone and starts walking back to the plane. “See ya,” he says to me. “Keep us updated. The old man will want to know how it’s going.”

BEG YOUR PARDON?

“You’re LEAVING?” I can’t keep my voice from squeaking on the last syllable.

Angelo turns around and shoots me a perplexed look. “I’ve got shit to do. The pilot’s dropping me off in Vegas.”

I just assumed he’d be sticking around, at least for a little while.

Nah, not even close.

He’s just going to leave me here all alone with these…these…MEN.

This shouldn’t be a shock. I mean, he’s Angelo. He sucks. But having a shitty brother around is better than having nobody at all on my side.

Too bad Angelo couldn’t care less. He’s dumped his freight. His mission is complete. He has zero qualms about depositing his only sister into the arms of a platoon of cowboy-hatted strangers with Mafia pinky rings.

Julian clears his throat. I could be wrong, but the sound comes across as angry. Yet when he speaks, his tone is mild.

“You ought to stay at the ranch,” he says to Angelo. “We’ve got plenty of room and I’m sure your grandfather will want to know that Cecilia is comfortable.”

Angelo rolls his eyes. “She’ll be fine. But I can’t deal with the stench of cow shit. So this is arrivederci, folks.”

With a parting belch, Angelo marches over to the plane and takes the steps two at a time, disappearing through the open door within seconds. He’s such a colossal prick that I can’t imagine how we emerged from the same gene pool.

Only Julian remains beside me. The rest of the Tempesta brothers have paused roughly thirty feet away, out of earshot. Getty mutters something to Tye, who convulses with fresh laughter. Fort shifts his weight, parks a hand on his hip and scowls over the delay.

Two gleaming black pickup trucks are parked on the tarmac.

And for the first time I notice we’ve got company.

Closer to the terminal building, a pair of men wearing sunglasses and dark clothing stand guard beside a high end SUV.

The look of them and the manner in which they tensely survey the surroundings rings all kinds of alarm bells in the recesses of my memory.

I’ve been looking at men like this since I was a child.

They are Mafia soldiers, likely here to make sure there’s no trouble as I get handed off.

It’s an uneasy reminder that the reach of the Mafia isn’t confined to east coast cities no matter how much Hollywood prefers shootouts in gritty urban settings.

And the Tempestas?

They aren’t simply wealthy cattle ranchers. Even my grandfather used to utter Cassio Tempesta’s name with fear and respect.

The sense that I’ve walked right into a den of wolves intensifies.

I’m not delusional. I’ll never overpower one wolf, let alone a pack. Turning on the tears and pleading for mercy on Gabriel’s behalf will only result in contempt and pity.

Gabriel’s chances depend on my ability to appease the Tempestas. One word from them and he’ll be hunted again. He won’t survive that. And I won’t survive losing my twin.

This is why I calmly turn to Julian Tempesta on the windy tarmac and push my hair out of my face. “Do you mind if we stop at a store? I’m afraid I didn’t bring a litter box for my cat.”

“No problem,” he says without missing a beat. “We’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

I manage to force my lips into a smile. “Thank you.”

Julian gives a signal to his Mafia brutes. They disappear into the SUV, the tinted windows hiding them from view.

“Are we fucking sleeping here or what?” shouts Getty.

Julian throws his brother a look. Getty coughs into his hand and flips it up, extending his middle finger.

“Is it a long drive to the ranch?” I ask Julian.

“No,” he replies. “Eighty miles.”

I nearly laugh and then realize he’s completely serious. To me, eighty miles is pretty freaking far. The rules must be different here.

I tighten my fingers on the strap of my purse and keep my back straight. “Lead the way.”

Julian shakes his head and flashes a quick smile that unleashes chaos on my pulse. “Your first lesson about life with us, Cecilia, is that ladies are always first.”

His palm grazes my lower back. The gesture is both protective and distracting. As he steers me toward the pickup trucks, I sneak a quick glance at his face. In the same instant, he looks down at me.

His hand applies more pressure, flattening across my back and moving in a slow, circular motion that comes across as dominant as it is provocative. I can’t stop the deep tug of arousal low in my belly any more than I can stop my heart from beating.

Even through the haze of unwanted lust, I am very aware this is his territory. The Tempesta boys are all grown up but it’s clear Julian remains the crew commander.

In a clash of wills, Julian will win. When backed by his brothers, they are an unstoppable force. I’ll need to keep my wits about me.

And I’d better pick my battles with care.