Page 4 of Rescued By the Mafia

Iris did her best to drag in one breath after another, suddenly and unreasonably tempted to lean forward and collapse against him.

Benny cleared his throat roughly. “I was telling her how I saw some of the tires on her car have gone flat.”

Iris watched Dante’s lips drop into a frown.

“How many?” Dante asked.

“Ah, I … I saw the two at the back,” Benny said, “but I was just walking by.”

“Did you take a closer look?”

“No.”

The air rushed from her lungs as Iris realized the implications of Benny’s answer. If two of her tires had mysteriously deflated, she had to consider the possibility there were more.

As if sensing her resurging emotions, Dante pried the bottle from her grip and held it out. “Cap this and set it with her things. Then get back to work.”

“Yes, Boss.”

With her hands suddenly empty, Iris was forced to realize she was only standing there. Supported by a hand at her back from a man she didn’t know. Her empty hands shook as she dragged in the next breath. Her head was spinning. She was going to have to spend her fantastic tip on a tow truck, and new tires. Maybe a full inspection. She couldn’t move forward toward that safe and independent future she wanted without transportation.

Dante guided her back to the bench she’d been sitting on when Benny had entered the room, then dropped into a crouch in front of her. He laid a hand on her leg, over her knee, and squeezed. “Look at me, Iris.”

Her gaze refocused, skimming over the ink on his neck that sort of looked like teeth, and anchoring in his patient stare. The panic in her fizzled, just a little, as she sank into the cool blue depths of his eyes.

“Did you drive to work today on low tires?”

She shook her head and swallowed in search of her voice. “The rear passenger tire is maybe seven months old.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed. “Is there anyone mad enough at you right now to lash out like this?”

She didn’t know what kind of expression she made when that face rose from the shadows of her memory, but she lost sight of Dante for a long second. Her body tensed, instinctively trying to curl in on itself.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He squeezed her knee again, harder, and took hold of her chin with his other hand. “Do you have someone who can take you home?”

Iris hesitated. She hadn’t been in the city long, and she wasn’t great at socializing. The only person she could think of was her other employer, a friendly woman who’d taken a chance on her. But even if Megan had the desire to rush halfway across the city late at night, Megan had a little boy to think about. Iris couldn’t ask her. “I don’t think so…”

Dante released her chin. “Do you live alone?”

“I have a roommate.” Though whether Elise was home, or sober, let alone awake, all remained to be seen.

“Would your roommate protect you if it came to that?”

A strangled, choked-off laugh escaped her and Iris shook her head. “Definitely not.”

Dante let out a breath and stood, hauling her to her feet as well. “Get your things together, then.”

Iris stared up at him. His shirt had shifted a little with his movement and she almost thought she could make out what looked like an open muzzle arching up on his throat, but a glimpse was all she got. She gave herself a shake, forcibly dragging in a breath. “I appreciate you helping me gather myself, but I can’t walk out on my job. I’ll be fine.”

Something like amusement seemed to dance across his face, just for a second, and Dante inclined his head. “If you say so.” He dipped a hand into a pocket and extracted a business card, simultaneously darting out his free hand and snagging a pen from the front pocket of her apron. He flipped the card over and scrawled something quickly on the back, then tucked her pen back where he’d found it. “Here,” he said, holding the card out. “If you get to a point where you do need help, give me a call.”

Iris took the card in a surreal state of awe. She stared down at the print, her brain attempting to process the name in raised letters across the top of the card.

Dante De Salvo.

She knew that name from somewhere….

He reached out and twirled a finger through her hair briefly in a touch that managed to be both feather light and searingly sensual. “Have a good night, sweet Iris.”

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