Page 70 of Veiled Amor
“Can’t believe you left the Miami beaches for this,” Slider remarked. “Do chicks go topless there?”
Lucia chuckled. “Some hotels in South Beach have private beaches, and they allow topless bathing.”
“Oh yeah? I might have to rethink my summer vacation.”
Catching her eye, Capone asked, “how do you know this,nena?”
The way she smiled and got a hint of color on her cheeks, he knew the answer, and Capone felt the tightness in his back teeth, picturing her in only a pair of tiny bikini bottoms, her gorgeous tits out for the sun to bronze. “Dad has a villa I used to go to with a few girlfriends. Supervised, of course. One of his men was never far away.”
His teeth grinding became a hard clench. “They saw you?”
A twinkle in her eyes told him she was teasing him. It didn’t stop the blood from passing over his vision. What a gorgeous little brat she was.
She dared to laugh and placed her hand on his thigh. The muscles instantly hardened, and he covered her hand, keeping it there. She continued talking with Slider like they were old friends, regaling the prospect with her angelic attention.
Capone didn’t like it one bit.
It was only the skate of her fingers through his that centered the beast within.
He’d brought her home.
And he knew he was in trouble.
* * *
Once Slider dropped them off in front of a gated building, Armado Park Tower, Capone hooked up their bags and took her up to the eleventh floor. Lucia thought her father’s estate was heavily guarded until she walked through two keypad doors and then a checkpoint with a concierge. And then, at his heavy front door, he used another keypad and a lock.
“Does a King or something live in this building?”
He cast a gaze over his shoulder, amusement in those dark chocolate eyes.
“Just wondering about the security.”
“I pay for the best.”
“So the filthy rich live here, hm?”
An insistent beeping greeted them when he closed the door, he opened a discreet white box on the wall, tapped in four numbers to switch off the alarm.
He winked at her, and Lucia felt her stomach roll over. “They don’t let just anyone move in.”
When she got the first glance of his apartment, she understood how his tower block would be only for the affluent because it was beautifully masculine. Sizeable ceiling-tall windows covered with sleek blinds. Dark furniture facing a large brick wall holding a TV system. A white rug on the carpeted floor. A fancy archway separated the living area and kitchen with dark cabinets and stainless steel appliances.
His place was immaculate.
He was meticulously clean, or someone did it for him.
“Dump your coat anywhere. Down that hallway are the bathrooms and bedrooms. Take a look around if you want to. I’ll start the coffee. You hungry?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you.” She replied. Feeling shy and awkward suddenly. Slipping out of her boots and coat, she padded down the hallway to have a peek into the rooms. The bathroom was gorgeous and minimalistic, similar to something at home with a walk-in shower with waterfall showerheads. A separate bathtub sat across the room, and it looked like it had whirlpool jets. She was already eager to take a soak. She fingered all his smelly stuff on the countertop, lifting bottles of cologne to her nose to sniff.
“I should get a hotel room, Capone.” She spoke as he approached on silent feet, carrying two steaming cups. He cocked a brow and paused, handing the coffee to her. “Do you want to get a hotel?”
“Well. No, not really, but it’s an imposition to expect to stay with you.”
“Have I said that?”
“No.”
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