In Love With a Bad Boy

Chapter 2: Thwarted Desire

CHAPTER 2: THWARTED DESIRETHE MOMENT SHE WALKED IN the bar, she felt fate smile upon her. There he was, across the room and sitting with a man she didn’t recognize. But dear lord, what had the universe been thinking? No man should look that good, especially not a man like that. She’d seen pictures of him plenty of times in the past several weeks, but those grainy images had done nothing to prepare her for what he looked like in the flesh. Tall, dark and handsome was the understatement of the century when it came to this guy.

Trying to keep her jaw from hitting the floor, she turned her gaze elsewhere and strolled to the bar in the middle of the establishment. She noticed a fair amount of attention had turned to her, nearly every pair of eyes in the building, in fact. Unfortunately, not the eyes of the one man she needed to notice her the most. Still, the attention did help to bolster her confidence a little.

She ordered a drink. Though once the words were out of her mouth, she couldn’t recall what drink she’d asked for, hinting at just how nervous she was.

“Do you have some ID, ma’am?” the middle-aged bartender asked.

Seriously? She was there to try to seduce a man and she didn’t look old enough to buy her own drink? Instead of arguing though, she pulled the fake driver’s license from her purse and presented it to the bartender. He stared at it for a moment, nodded and left without a word.

Tequila, it turned out, is what she’d ordered, and she thanked the bartender as he placed it in front of her. Now, that was stupid, Tess. A woman who needs to keep her wits about her and who seldom drinks should not be downing hard liquor. Still, she took a tentative sip while she chanced a glance back at the too-handsome reason for her being there. Anything that could calm her nerves was worth a try.

He seemed engrossed in some sort of quiet argument. Though the voices were so low she couldn’t make out a word, he was obviously angry, his expression set in a scowl while irate fire danced in his dark eyes. At the same time, she could almost feel the restraint his body exuded, like a power that threatened to rage out of control if given the slightest provocation.

The other man stood then, obviously still angry, but resigned as he walked away and out of the bar. This was her chance! He sat there all alone, still scowling, but he also looked like he was in no hurry to leave. As she watched him, though, something else emerged in his expression, something she definitely wasn’t expecting. Sadness. He looked…sad. Was he sad about the argument he’d just had, or about the man up and leaving like that? Or had it nothing to do with what had just transpired? Or was she misreading what she saw altogether?

Oh, who cares! What difference did it make to her if the man looked mad, sad, or happier than a drunk in a river of whiskey? Very likely, either he or someone close to him needed to die.

She wasn’t a cold-blooded killer, she really wasn’t. In fact, she’d never contemplated such a thing until very recently. But the man who sat there, so close, so within her reach, might be the man who killed Michael—her brother, the only family she’d had left. And the moment she had learned about his death—at the hands of a high-ranking member of the cartel headed by Antonio Rossi, she’d known what she had to do. The man responsible couldn’t be allowed to live after taking her brother from her, and no court in the whole United States was going to try, never mind convict, Cade Rossi—the son of Antonio Rossi—or any other member under his protection. She was Michael’s only hope for justice and vengeance.

And she was done procrastinating. She took another bolstering sip of tequila, stood up, and strolled across the room to where he sat, mentally rehearsing her lines, ready to seduce him, and once again strengthened by the appreciative gazes that settled on her scantily clad form.

He looked up just seconds before she reached his table, and heat flared in dark, seductive eyes as his gaze swept over her thinly veiled curves. But something in his eyes caught her off guard, and did strange things to her insides. Aroused, yes—of course she was. The man looked like he’d just walked off the runway. But she saw more than arousal mirrored in his eyes, something more than sadness, too. Up close, she could clearly see what she’d missed from across the room. Because it was the same thing she’d seen reflected back in the mirror countless times herself—hopelessness.

“It looks like the weight of the world is on your shoulders,” she said without thinking, her voice soft, not seductive. She silently chastised herself. That was not what she had planned! “You could probably use a good listener, and since I’m new in town it would be a nice change from listening to the four walls of my room.” Oh damn, now she’d blown it. What kind of pathetic pickup line was that?

His gaze swept over her once more and by the time his eyes returned to meet her own, he’d tucked away the emotion that had laid there uncovered.

“Please sit down,” he offered then as his shoulders relaxed, throwing her for a loop.

After her botched pickup lines, she’d expected a quick dismissal. Well, she’d just thrown away weeks of practice, but it was time to try to redeem herself. “So, what is someone as handsome as yourself doing alone in a bar on Friday night?”

Jeez, the words felt awkward and ridiculous on her tongue. This was definitely not going as planned, and as if in confirmation of it, his muscles seemed to stiffen once more. OK, time for the backup plan…except she didn’t have a backup plan. The only thing she had was…

“Had a rough week?” she queried, aiming for her most genuine smile, not the seductive grin she’d rehearsed a thousand times.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Ever have those moments when you wonder if you wouldn’t be better off going in a whole new direction?” His muscles had relaxed once again.

“Actually, I just drove from New York to Miami to try something different,” she replied, feeling a little guilty that the ‘something different’ she intended to try was murder—possibly his murder. It seemed a whole lot easier when the plan was theoretical, not sitting across from her in a bar, his dark eyes captivating, his strong jaw and high cheekbones the epitome of the perfect man.

“And how is that working out for you?”

“At present, I’m undecided, but when I know for sure, I’ll let you know.” True enough.

“I’d appreciate that.” He smiled then, one corner of his lips curving just a little higher than the other, and she swore her heart skipped a beat.

“So what has you considering a 180-turn?”

“Just work, I suppose.”

“What kind of work?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound overly interested.

“Investments, mainly, but the boss is a big-time prick,” he smiled brighter then, revealing two perfect rows of pearly white teeth. The man didn’t need to work for the mob—he could easily have made his fortune as a male model.

“Why don’t you leave the firm if it’s weighing on you so heavily? Certainly there must be other firms.”

“It’s a family thing,” he replied, as if that made his conundrum self-explanatory.

So, Mr. Cade Rossi was having some issues with daddy’s business? That was interesting. But she needed something witty in reply. “Oh, I get it. My mom and dad owned a restaurant, and they would have gone through the roof had I not been willing to donate my weekends to serving up burgers. Practically the same thing, right?”

OK, not exactly witty, but they both laughed, and he seemed to relax even more. That was good, wasn’t it? Relaxed led to letting one’s guard down, and that would make it easier to probe for the information she sought.

But an hour passed, and then another. All the while they talked, she could feel the charged energy in the air, a s****l tension that was almost palpable and just waiting to be released. She felt guiltier than sin that she could talk so easily to the man who might have murdered her brother. How could she be doing this? But she told herself she didn’t have a choice, that’s why she was doing it. She would keep him talking until she’d made her decision.

“Have you ever gone for a walk on the beach at…” He checked his watch, “Two in the morning?”

“Well...no, I can’t say I have. Not too many warm, sandy beaches in New York.” Maybe a romantic stroll would up the heat between them even more and he’d be helpless to resist. Yes, that made sense.

He stood and she followed suit, and he placed his hand at the small of her back, guiding her toward the door while eyeing down the questionable sort of patrons that had made their way into the bar over the past two hours. She hadn’t even noticed how the upper class patrons seemed to have given way to a seedier looking crowd, but now she was glad she was leaving the bar with him, and not on her own.

Ha! She laughed at herself silently. She took comfort in leaving with a mob boss’s son because that somehow seemed better than the “seedy-looking” crowd? She rolled her eyes at the absurdity of it, but let him guide her out the door, across the street and toward the massive expanse of ocean and beach that stretched out before them.

It was beautiful, and she quite understood why a stroll along the beach was held in such high romantic regard. There was nothing but the sounds of waves lapping at the shore, the moonlight from above twinkling in the ocean. It was beautiful, peaceful, and it allowed one to focus their full attention on the person next to them. And she did precisely that. Listening intently as he talked more about himself and she shared what she could, but he said nothing that even hinted toward what she needed to know.

“So…if you’re in the family business—in investments—and you say your boss is a prick, does that mean…”

“Yes, my father is the boss I was talking about. It’s not so bad, just…complicated.”

“You enjoy your work then?” she queried.

“No,” he replied flatly, and that threw her for a loop.

“Oh. What don’t you like about it?”

He was quiet for a moment, and she thought he’d decided to shy away from the question, but then he spoke up, “Honestly, my work involves a lot of things I’d rather not do. I admit, there are a lot of perks, but they’re never worth it in the end, are they?”

“I think I get it,” she lied, “…long hours, heavy competition…”

“Something like that. But I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it?”

He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight, like a mythical Greek Adonis, and despite her objective, her fingers itched to touch him; to strip off his designer suit and caress every inch of his hard, sinewy body. Somehow she knew he would be muscle everywhere—the breadth of his chest and the taper of his hips told her he could be nothing else.

She hadn’t realized she’d been so caught up in analyzing him until she lost her footing, tripping over debris in the sand. His arms shot out like lightning, so fast they were around her waist before she’d fully realized she was falling. And now she could feel the restrained power in his arms, the same restraint that she’d sensed in him at the bar. It sent a thrill coursing through her body and heat flaring deep inside her.

She looked up, and it was clear by the fire that blazed in his dark eyes, he felt it, too. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? It was part of the plan, as dirty as it made her feel. But a man freshly sated after s*x was about as relaxed as a man could get. So, this was perfect. All she had to do was propose going back to her place…

But he leaned in right then, covering her mouth expertly, and her lips parted of their own volition. He moved slowly, and she could feel it even now, the power he kept carefully in check.

He pulled her to him and she felt the hard wall of his chest against her, her breasts pressed hard against him. Her body sought to close the distance even more, her hips shifting to press more intimately against him, and oh god, she could feel the hard length of him against her abdomen. She squeezed her thighs against the hot rush of desire that crashed over her.

All she had to do was say it…invite him back to her house, and she would be that much closer to the truth she’d sought for so long.

A ringing from somewhere around his waist broke into the silence, and his whole body tensed, his hands falling away from her lower back where he’d held her against him. He breathed raggedly and stepped back. By the time he reached for the phone in his pocket and held it against his ear, he had regained his composure while she felt anything but composed.

She tried to listen into the conversation to distract her from her traitorous body, but she couldn’t make out more than a low murmur on the other end. The best she could tell was the guy on the other end of the line was frantic, and he was the one doing the majority of the talking. The man in front of her answered in simple, one-word remarks, giving her no clue about what was going on.

“I’m really sorry, but I have to go,” he told her as he hung up the phone and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “It’s an emergency, but it’s late. Let me have a car take you home.”

Oh no, she was not going back to her house without him—and with his driver in his stead! But before she could object, he reached for her again and kissed her soundly until all coherent thought fled.

“Come on,” he whispered as he pulled away reluctantly, “I’ll call for a car.”

“That’s all right. It’s a beautiful night. I think I’ll walk.”

He eyed her speculatively, reluctantly. “It isn’t always safe this late…”

“Don’t worry. I took self-defence classes back in high school. No mugger is going to want to mess with me.” It was funny—the mob guy was worried about her getting mugged on her way back to her house. It was hilarious, actually—so why wasn’t she laughing?

They’d made their way back to the street and an expensive-looking luxury car pulled up in front of them. A man exited from the driver’s side, came around and opened the rear passenger door, nodding politely to her while waiting patiently.

“Are you sure you won’t let me send a car for you?”

“Nope. I’m good, thanks.”

He leaned in to kiss her once more, and she hadn’t been expecting that. It threw her—more so because when his lips left hers, she wanted them back. She’d gone mad! Or maybe he knew precisely what he’d been doing. Maybe he went around with some kind of poison on his lips, one that made him irresistible to revenge-seeking females. Hey—it was possible.

He drove away a moment later, and she turned in the direction of her small house and started down the street, pleased her body wasn’t showing any symptoms of death by poison. All the while, she kept an eye out for trouble because of his caution to her, but still feeling ridiculous for doing so. She’d spent the past several hours with Cade Rossi. Hell, a mugger should seem like a welcome relief!