Off-limits. I remind myself of it again and again, like repetition will make it true. I will not touch her. I will not think about bending her over my desk and taking her until we both fall apart. My cock hardens, my balls ache. I’m a fucking creep thinking of her that way.
She is my PA. I shouldn’t be thinking of her at all.
But my name, a scream on her lips, would be bliss.
By the time the office quiets, the sun sinking low over the skyline, my restraint feels thinner than it has in years. She is not like the others. I cannot decide if that makes her less dangerous to me or more.
More, I decide.
A drink tonight at the Ironwood is a must.
I lean back in my chair, thinking about Romero. It’s strange he is showing himself again. He has kept out of my way for years, probably mainly due to being in and out of jail. Even so, his reappearance on my radar is telling. Stranger still that it coincides with Briar’s arrival.
Security has shown there is no connection there, but is that correct? I did not survive being the son of Leo Moretti without developing a healthy mistrust of coincidences. Something tells me I’m not being told the whole truth.
I call Anthony on my cell. “Do another check on Briar Locke. I’m following a hunch that we’ve missed something. Make sure to include Romero in the search. I think there may be a connection.”
“I checked already.”
“I know. Check again.”
I hang up without waiting for a response.
I’m missing something, but I will find out what it is and deal with it.
Either Briar is clean…
Or she is a problem I’ll have to handle.
FIVE
BRIAR
The Ironwood is a sleek,dimly lit bar tucked between the towering glass fronts of the financial district. It’s the kind of place where bankers loosen their ties, assistants slip off their heels, and deals are made in the shadows over top-shelf whiskey.
“Briar, over here!” Stacy waves me toward a high table tucked against a mirrored wall, already surrounded by three other women from the office. I weave through the crowd, shrugging off the nervous tension coiling in my shoulders.
After the week I’ve had, I should be at home in bed. But Stacy insists a drink, a laugh, a chance to breathe is what I need and now that I’m here, I don’t think she is wrong. I don’t know anyone in the bar, and this isn’t the type of place my ex-husband would have haunted, everything will be fine. I’m allowed to let my hair down sometimes, aren’t I?
I’m halfway to the table when a pair of voices drift over the music, low and conspiratorial. “Moretti’s,” one of them murmurs. “You know their father used to run half the docks, right?”
“Used to,” the other replies. “Word is the family is clean now. Legit. But…” A pause. “People like that don’t ever really leave. Not completely.”
I stop mid-step, heat creeping up the back of my neck.
I shouldn’t listen.
But I do.
I force myself to keep walking, sliding into the empty seat beside Stacy. She’s already halfway through a margarita and grins at me like she’s had the best day of her life.
“You came!” she cheers, squeezing me in a quick hug. “Finally. I was starting to think you’d live at your desk forever.” Stacy gestures to the other side of the room. “Our boss and his brothers are here, so behave.”
Brothers?“Tempting,” I mutter, glancing in the direction where Mr. Moretti sits with his head of security and four other men I’d not seen before. The six of them draw attention, even if they don’t want it, with their dark hair, large physiques, and similar features. It’s clear they are related, all of them exuding a dangerous aura without even trying. It’s probably the reason others in the bar are talking about them.
Who wouldn’t?
The mirrored walls bounce warm golden light, and the bass from overhead speakers thrums faintly through the floor. For the first time in days, the weight in my chest eases a little. Thank God it’s the weekend. I love sleeping in and tomorrow that’s what I plan to do.
