And he’s fit. Eight-pack abs, well-defined chest, and broad, muscled shoulders. My eyes follow the V that disappears behind his waistband along with his ink. A wave of heat crashes through me.
Slowly, I lift my gaze back to his face. There’s a challenge in his eyes. Is he trying to play dirty? I realize my jaw is hanging open, and I quickly close it. Fuck. I need to keep my poker face around him.
He walks toward the closet, giving me a view of his muscular back and the intricate snake tattoo on it. He looks even more lethal without his clothes on. I can’t stop staring at the way his body moves, confident and powerful, like a predator.
He returns with another duvet in his arms and dumps it on the bed. “This Friday, I’m taking you out for dinner.”
My gaze lingers on that damn V. “I’ll pass.”
“It’s not a request.”
I blink at him, struggling to formulate a sentence that doesn’t end with me drooling on myself. I must be tired. It’s been an exhausting twenty-four hours.
“Okay, whatever,” I mumble.
It’s not until I’m in my pajamas and lying on the hard ottoman in the darkness that the haze induced by his naked body lifts. I rub my eyes and let out a sigh. I can’t let my insides turn to mush every time he comes out of a shower. Now that he’s seen my less-than-ideal reaction, he’s going to keep doing it.
I stare at the star-speckled sky outside the window and try to ignore the sound of Rafaele’s deep breaths from where he’s lying in his comfortable bed. The bastard’s already asleep.
Sleep doesn’t come as easily to me, so I stay up for a while longer and slowly piece together my plan.
CHAPTER 14
RAFAELE
“Conor’s going to make a full recovery,” Nero says when I meet him the next afternoon for lunch at one of my restaurants in Yonkers.
I spent the morning driving up to Albany to go over the books with a capo I’ve got there. My territory sprawls from Westchester County all the way through Upstate New York, but I’ve also got a number of restaurants scattered throughout Manhattan, as well as a club in Harlem. It’s a lot of area to cover, and I like to see my capos face-to-face frequently, so I’m often on the road.
“Good. What did he want to do with Joshua?”
Nero shrugs. “Nothing. Told me he’s going to send him to live with his mother in Chicago for a few months until he cools down.”
“Joshua kidnapped him and nearly killed him.”
“He’s his son.”
He’s an idiot, and a dangerous one at that. “He’s making a mistake. Son or not, Joshua needs to be put down.”
“How many times do I have to remind you not everyone thinks like you, Rafe?”
“You don’t need to remind me of anything. I already know most people lack all semblance of rationality.”
Nero chuckles. “Good thing you’ve got enough for all of us.”
I shake my head, feeling a lick of annoyance at Conor’s shortsightedness. “Tell Conor the next time Joshua steps out of line—and he will step out of line again—we won’t give him a choice. His son used up his one strike.”
“Noted,” Nero says. “I’ll make sure he gets the message. How was your meeting with Mad Dog?”
“Mad Dog’s numbers were fine.” Our income from Albany has been dropping over the last six months, and I’ve been working on figuring out why. “But he lost a few of his regulars recently. I told him to go talk to them and politely invite them back.” Mad Dog runs a popular gambling den and has been one of my top earners.
Nero shakes his head. “There’s nowhere else to go gamble that kind of money up there.”
“I have a feeling that’s no longer the case.”
A waiter comes around with a bottle of wine and fills our glasses.
“You think it’s Ferraro?” Nero asks once he leaves.
“Possibly. It’s more likely Bratva. They’ve been getting more and more bold in the recent weeks.” I spread a napkin over my lap. “I want you to ask around. Have you made progress on setting up that dinner with Ferraro?”
“I’m waiting on Big Joe to give me a few dates.” Nero eyes the caprese salad on the table and spears some onto his fork. “What about your wife? Did you manage to pacify her?”
I drag my tongue over my teeth. Cleo was still asleep on the ottoman when I left, her copper curls splayed across her pillow. I spent a few minutes studying her flawlessly smooth skin and the elegant arc of her throat before I left. Elena’s words from yesterday were on my mind as I walked out the front door. “Don’t hurt her.”