My molars grind as I contemplate a response that doesn’t give away the real reason I brought her here. When I take too long, she snaps.
“Why are we doing this? You scowl at me, but then you want to touch me? You dismiss me like some kind of servant, but then youwatchme?”
Her gaze darts over mine like she’s trying to figure me out. Good luck with that, pet. Even I struggle to figure myself out.
“And something happens when we touch, Fiero. I know you feel it too.”
That observation slams me in the throat.
“So what I don’t understand is why you want to use that against me.”
It takes every ounce of strength to reject her words, not let them in.
The silence stretches and I don’t speak because I don’t trust what will come out of my mouth if I do. Eventually, she stands, tugging the dress down even though it bobs right back up again.
“Fine,” she huffs. “I get it. You’re just using me. A nice little perk in return for what my asshole uncle stole from you. I should have known better than to catch feelings for you.” She glances at me in anticipation of a reaction I’m not giving her. “I’m such a fool. I mean...” Her broken laugh is bitter. “You won’t even show me your face.”
As she walks to the door, an ache blooms in my center. I have to shut it down. Shut it all down. And fast.
When she turns around one more time she gasps. My handscome down either side of her head, caging her in, and my mouth hovers an inch away from hers.
“Whatever feelings you think you caught, Pfeiffer, get rid of them.”
She sucks in a breath while I absorb her heat, her sweat.
“Why?” she whispers.
“Because they’re not real. And I’m not a good man.”
She looks up at my mask, trying to see beyond it to the eyes beneath.
“They don’t call me The Devil for nothing.”
She must see something akin to conviction in my expression because she gulps and doesn’t argue.
“Whatever goes on within these four walls,cucciola,” I say, a sneer curling my lip. “It’s not fucking real.”
I stare her down until I’m sure she’s got the message, then push myself off the wall and open the door.
She holds my gaze defiantly as she walks out of the suite, and in a move I find annoyingly impressive, she doesn’t look back.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Pfeiffer
Nineteen nights to go.
I don’t even bother hopingfor Fiero to make an appearance as I take my usual place at the podium for the fourth night since he ordered me to not feel a thing for him.
I’ve had time to cool off and realize he’s absolutely right. Who in their right mind would want to catch feelings for a blackmailing mafia don who has bodies buried under the parking lot and is known to the rest of New York as the Devil? I mean, really. It doesn’t make for a tempting personal ad now, does it?
“Fi!” José calls me over. He’s getting a little too used to giving me jobs when the other wait staff is busy. “Would you mind taking this over to the corner booth?
I glance down at the clear drink in a crystal tumbler. “Sure.”
“It’s a Grey Goose, on the rocks, squeeze of lime. His usual.”
I pick up the tray and make my way over to the Irish guy inthe corner. I’ve seen him here a few times. Or rather, I’ve felt his presence a few times.
