“You do not scan the room like an agent looking for exits.”
“I don’t.”
“You do when you are angry.”
That is, unfortunately, true.
“You do not speak to Leon unless necessary,” he continues. “You do not react if someone refers to the auction. You do not correct details unless I give you room to do it. If I touch you, you lean in. Not away.”
“I know how undercover work functions.”
His gaze settles on me. “Tonight you aren’t undercover for the FBI.”
I wait.
His mouth barely moves. “Tonight you are under me.”
Heat flashes through me so quickly I almost miss the anger behind it.
“Careful,” I say.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“That look.”
“I have many looks.”
“That one says you are deciding where to stab me.”
“Then it’s my honest one.”
“No.” He reaches across the small space between us and brushes a wisp of hair off my shoulder. “Your honest look is worse.”
I should slap his hand away.
I do not, because we are practicing. Because the driver can see just enough in the mirror. Because every second between now and Leon matters.
Because I am better at this than my pulse suggests.
Stefano’s fingers pause against my shoulder, then fall away.
“You need to stop fighting every reaction,” he says.
“Stop giving me reactions to fight.”
His eyes darken with something that might be amusement if amusement carried a knife. “I don’t think you want that.”
I look back out the window.
The club is tucked behind a hotel that doesn’t look expensive unless a person knows what they're looking for. No sign at street level. No line. No drunk tourists spilling over the sidewalk. Just a valet stand, a private entrance, two men in black suits, and cars that cost more than most people’s homes moving through the circular drive without anyone needing directions.
The second the car stops, Stefano changes almost instantly. Whatever dangerous warmth he gives me in private disappears beneath something colder. His face settles. His eyes sharpen. The man next to me becomes the man the room knows to fear before he reaches the door.
The Don.
The driver opens my side first. I step out carefully, aware of the dress, the heels, the guards, the cameras hidden near the entrance. Before I can take a full breath, Stefano is beside me.
