Fuck, the girl in front of me was dressed in half a dress that barely even touched her thighs and six-inch heels that looked like they belonged to a professional stripper, the kind that charged a normal man’s monthly wages just for an hour in the VIP room. I tried not to get distracted by the way that her thighs moved when she shifted her weight between her feet.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I told her, ignoring her question. With any luck, the hot chick would leave before my business deal started. I looked at my watch and cursed. I was about to be late.

She rolled her eyes at me and put a hand on her hip. “Do I look like I want to be here?”

I looked her up and down slowly. I was late, but maybe it was worth it. “Your nipples are hard, so probably.”

She yelped and crossed her arms. “I’m just cold. I can’t believe you!”

“Believe it, sweetheart.” I looked around. There weren’t any taxis in this part of town. No self-respecting taxi driver would be caught dead here. If you didn’t have a car, you’d need to walk to a nicer neighborhood and hail a cab there. If you did have a car, this was the area of town that you went through with the doors locked and the windows shut tightly. “Why the hell are you here?”

“My car broke down,” she explained. “Not that it’s any of your business.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. She was giving me attitude, even though I was more than a foot and a half taller than her.

“It’s my business because you got yourself cornered by some drunken idiots. I didn’t hear a thank you.”

“Thank you,” she said. I knew she didn’t mean it.

Even in six-inch heels, she didn’t come up to my shoulder. I’d learned a long time ago that survival of the fittest worked. I should just leave her here and let the chips fall where they may.

But something that my mother had taught me long ago about protecting women, some shred of decency that still lingered after all that the world had taught me, made me sigh before I said, “You’re coming with me.”

“No!” she squeaked. “You’re a stranger. This is a terrible part of town.”

“Do you want to be alone?”

She looked around and crossed her arms a little tighter. There was a guy on the corner doing heroin while sitting with his back against a wall. He had track marks on his arm, and the needle probably wasn’t sterile. The ragged blanket he was sitting on probably hadn’t been washed in a few years.

“No.” Her voice was small. Her shoulders hunched a little. She looked like a lost little girl, even though she was dressed like a temptress.

“Then you’re coming with me.” I looked at her shoes. “The sidewalk here isn’t even. You’re going to break your ankles. I don’t have time for that.” Before she could say anything, I picked her up in my arms.

“Oh my god! Put me down!” She started slapping at my face, shoulders, and arms.

“Stop that.” I pretended to start to drop her, which made her cling to my neck instead of trying to wiggle free. I could smell her perfume when she moved closer to me. She smelled like lilies and rain. I could feel myself getting hard just from that. Damn. From this angle, I could see straight down her cleavage even though the dress wasn’t that low cut. I forced myself to stop looking.

“I’m too heavy,” she protested. “You’re going to drop me.”

“You don’t weigh anything,” I said. “I’ve carried packs twice your weight in the godforsaken desert.” I shut up. Those missions were still classified.

“Where are we going?” She seemed to be rolling with the punches now and was resting her head against my shoulder. Or maybe she was just waiting for her chance to get free.

“A business meeting,” I said.

“What kind of business meeting?” she asked.

“You’ll see when we get there.”

“But…”

I shifted her into a fireman’s carry so I could spank her ass. “Enough with the questions already. When we get there, just keep your mouth shut and look pretty.”

“Fuck you,” she spat, upside down and trying to kick her way free. “Put me down!”

“Behave, or your ass is going to be so sore you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

She didn’t stop, though. This little half-drunk wildcat was going to hurt herself. I swatted her ass as a warning.

“Ow!”

“Stop wiggling.” I was ten minutes late now. Don Lorenzo was a paranoid fucker who used cell-phone jammers and didn’t allow strange vehicles within a mile of his place, which was why I was on foot and carrying a squirming bundle of club-hopping bunny to a meeting before she got herself robbed and killed looking like that in a place like this. She’d chosen the wrong place for her car to break down.

“You could’ve called Triple A, you know.” She was a little muffled when she was talking upside down.

“No time,” I said. “And cell phones don’t work here.”

“Really? Yours doesn’t work, either? I tried to call someone, anyone, but I didn’t have a signal.”

I snorted. “You’re definitely not from around here.”

“Why doesn’t the cell phone company put in a tower?”

“Signals are jammed,” I said. Her dress was riding higher with each step I took, and I could see an expanse of smooth skin and luscious ass right next to my face. She was wearing a lacy thong. I licked my lips. I was probably going to hell for the kinds of thoughts I was having about her.

“Who would do that?” she asked. “That’s a dick move.”

She was either stupid or innocent. Or both. “We’re about to meet him.”

“Who?”

“Don Lorenzo.”

“Don? What is this, The Godfather? Do people even go by that these days?”

“Yes.”

“Yes to which question?”

“All of them.”

“Let me go!” she said, trying to get off of my shoulder. To stop her from sliding down, I put my hand on one bare ass cheek. “I don’t want to get involved with the mafia or mob, whatever they call it.”

“Too late, beautiful,” I said. “We’re already here.”