Ariel

Thursday night, Jimmy locks the doors at closing time. Tommy is in the back office counting the day’s earnings, and Alina is sweeping while I place all the chairs on the tables. I haven’t seen Matt or Luca this week, thankfully, although I miss Matt’s smiling face. He is handsome warmth where Luca is sexually intense. One is safe while the other invokes emotions comparable to jumping off a cliff. Intense.

Heart-thumping.

Adrenaline laced . . .

“Glad it’s over. My feet hurt.” When I glance up, I see Alina with one shoe off, rubbing her foot.

“If you’d stop wearing high heels, your feet wouldn’t hurt so much,” I chide with a snarky grin.

She shrugs. “What can I say, I like my heels.”

“Yeah, and your feet hate you. You should wear tennis shoes like me.” I raise an eyebrow when she gives me the look. “Just saying . . .”

She walks over, and with one hand on her hip, she tilts her head and asks, “What’s wrong with you tonight?”

I glance around the empty bar before meeting her eyes. Shrugging, I say, “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Spill it.”

Jimmy walks over and stands next to Alina, both giving me the look, the one that says we ain’t leaving until you spill it. With a heavy sigh, I give in.

“Luca says we have dinner reservations tomorrow night. He didn’t give me a choice. I told him I had to work, but then Tommy found me about an hour ago and said I have tomorrow night off.” I know deep down that Luca called Tommy, and that’s how Tommy found out. Luca made it happen.

“So, go out with Luca. He’s sexy as hell. And rich.” Alina waggles her eyebrows.

Jimmy never says anything when Luca is mentioned, so I finally ask. “What’s the deal with you two? Why don’t you like him?”

Jimmy purses his lips and for a minute, I don’t think he’s going to answer. I don’t say it aloud, but his dislike for Luca makes me even more hesitant.

“It’s not that I have anything against him personally. There’s just bad blood between our two families.” I narrow my eyes and study him. “He’s family,” he finishes.

I slap his shoulder with the palm of my hand, hard enough that my hand stings, but not hard enough to budge Jimmy. “Why didn’t you tell me this the other night? I thought you were in trouble!”

Jimmy laughs and shakes his head. I huff out an irritated breath. “So, what did that guy want with you the other night? The one at the club?”

“Luca wanted to see me, to find out who you were.”

The way he says it, so nonchalant, makes me angry. He doesn’t know, and I won’t tell him, but I’ve worried myself sick thinking that Frank and his goons had found me. This leads to another question, one I’ve also worried about.

“Is he into anything illegal?”

Jimmy slowly shakes his head. “Not that I know of. I just don’t like him.”

“Because of bad blood, not because of something he’s done?”

Jimmy nods. I let out a slow deep breath as I consider everything he’s told me. Luca is not into anything illegal, he’s not associated with Frank, he’s just some guy. Some powerful sexy guy who wants to go out with me.

Suddenly I’m nervous. I’ve never been on a date. I’ve been asked, but . . . what would I wear? How should I act? I’m not sure my first date should be with someone as intense as Luca.

“You two can stay here and talk about Luca all you want, but I’m going home. My feet are killing me.” Alina grabs her purse and heads for the back door.

“I’m with you,” I say, grabbing my purse and following her. Jimmy is right behind me.

As I’m walking along, I know someone is watching me. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck prickle. I glance over my shoulder and see a long black limousine slow to a stop beside me. The three of us turn and stare until Jimmy screws his face in annoyance and says, “I’ll see you later.” He takes off toward the subway.

When Alina sees who steps out, she smiles. “I’ll see you later, Ariel,” and then she briskly walks until she catches up with Jimmy.

It’s after two a.m., and now that my friends have taken off on me, I’m left all alone on the side of the street.

I look at the man standing in front of me. “What are you doing?” I ask.

Luca gives me a quirky smile and says, “Technically, it’s Friday.”

My eyes roam the length of him. Dark wavy hair, piercing brown eyes, a sharp, chiseled jawline that leads to full pink lips. Most women would love to have lips like his. He stands around six feet tall, his body hidden behind his tailored suit and tie.

“May I give you a ride home?” He cocks his head to the side and waits. I get the distinct impression that he doesn’t hear the word no very often. If ever.

I glance down at myself and grimace before shaking my head. “I don’t want to get your car dirty.”

He laughs. The sound is so masculine, so sexy. I feel it deep inside, igniting something I haven’t felt before.

“The car will be fine.”

I can’t stop staring at his lips. They look so soft, so moist.

I glance down at my faded blue jeans, worn-out sneakers. I even spot grease stains on the hem of my gray T-shirt. In confusion, I blurt, “I don’t know why you want to go out with me.” My eyes scan his body. Expensive black leather shoes, a perfectly tailored suit, even his watch is worth more than I can make in a year. “I’m nothing like you. I don’t have expensive clothes,” I grab the end of my ponytail, “my hair isn’t styled,” I touch my cheek, “and I probably have food all over my face.”

He laughs and then places one arm around my shoulder to guide me to his car. His touch is electrifying, so much so that I don’t notice where I am until I’m sitting in the back of his car. The black leather is soft, but I’m afraid to touch anything.

“Let’s go somewhere and have coffee. We can talk, get to know each other.”

I don’t know. My thoughts are jumbled as I try to figure out what the hell’s happening to me. How can one man make me feel this way? Overwhelming excitement that scares me a little. Just being here with him is out of my comfort zone.

He leans forward and tells the driver, “Take us to the club.”

My head whips around, my eyes narrow. “You said we’d go have coffee.”

“We will. And I thought you’d feel safe at the club.”

I throw my hands in the air and in a high-pitched voice, I say, “I can’t go there looking like this! Oh, God! I was out of place the last time, but this . . .” I glance down at my clothes and look back up at Luca, “No! Just no!”

He tugs on my ponytail, tearing the band away and letting the hair fall around my face. “You’re beautiful. But don’t worry, we’ll go in the back entrance and no one will see you.” He smiles. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

I have my doubts, but instead of saying so, I lean back and rest my head against the top of the seat and try not to show how nervous I am.

I can feel his gaze warm my body, and I don’t understand his attraction to me. I’m a nobody. Unattractive and unimportant. Okay, I’ve been told I’m beautiful, but I can’t compete with the hundred-dollar haircuts and perfectly manicured nails. My boobs are mine, born and raised with ’em, and they’re a little small. No perfectly round C-cup bought and paid for.

The driver pulls around to a back door, barely noticeable unless I squint. It’s brick and blends in with the wall perfectly. Ushering me out of the limo, Luca takes my hand and leads me through the door and into a waiting elevator. He stands close. My nose is inches away from his chest and I can smell his masculine cologne.

My heart beats rapidly, my breath quickens. How can he elicit such overwhelming feelings? Overwhelming desire? When he rests his hand on my lower back, an electric shock zings throughout my body, igniting a spark so intense . . .

I can’t breathe . . .

The elevator door slides open and I flee, needing to put distance between us. Before I can get too far, Luca grabs my hand. “Are you okay?” he asks in that sexy masculine voice.

I want to say, hell no, I’m not okay and ask him what he’s doing to me. But I don’t. I just nod and let him lead me to his office.

Two large men wearing suits, who could double as wrestlers, follow us inside. Turning to them, Luca orders, “Leave us.” Without a word, they do his bidding.

His office is immaculate, decorated with expensive paintings and rugs, but none of those things impress me. What catches my eye is the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the dance floor. I know how loud the music pumps through those speakers, I’ve heard it, but his office remains silent, free from the beat of the music.

I stare down at the table where I sat with my friends the one time I came here. “You watched me.”

He walks up behind me and rests a hand on my shoulder. “I did.” I can feel his breath on the top of my head as it brushes over my hair when he speaks.

“Why?” I ask, staring at the beautiful women on the dance floor as they sway with practiced moves. It’s packed tonight. I imagine it’s packed every night.

Without answering, Luca sweeps my hair back from my shoulder and skims my neck with his moist lips. I close my eyes and savor the feeling as my bones turn soft, barely holding me up. I’m losing myself.

My eyes pop open and I step to the side, away from him. “Stop.” I meant to say it forcefully, but it came out as a hesitant plea.

His lips twitch, and it makes me angry. He knows what he’s doing to me, and he’s enjoying making me uncomfortable. With every intention of heading home, I rush for the door. He grabs my wrist. “Where are you going?”

“You’re playin’ with me and I don’t like it!” My southern accent comes out thicker than normal, which happens when I’m angry. I jerk my wrist out of his hand.

He holds my angry gaze for a moment, then nods. “How about that coffee I promised you?”

Coffee? Shit, right now I’d like something a little stronger. My emotions are a rollercoaster and I’m ready to get off this up-and-down ride. A deep breath later, I give one curt nod and head to the chair. Turning it so I can face the dance floor, I plop down and fold my arms across my chest.