Page 8 of Rescued By the Mafia

She swallowed in search of her voice. “Th-this is Iris Jayne,” she said. Did he know her surname? She’d never given it, but he was her employer, he had ways to have learned it. “You said I could call if … I needed help.”

“And I meant it. Tell me what you need, Iris.”

More tears threatened and she struggled to get her feet to at least carry her out of the way of potential oncoming traffic. With the wall at her back, Iris wrapped her free arm around herself and said, “I’m stranded. At the garage where my car is supposed to be. And my—” She dragged in a raspy breath. “My ex was here.”

Saying it out loud was too much. Saying it out loud made it real.

Her purse fell to the ground as a sob tore from her and Iris sank to her knees on the concrete. She barely kept the phone near her face. “H-he followed me here!”

“Listen to me, Iris,” Dante said, his voice strong and commanding on the other end of the phone. “Tell me you’re listening.”

She wiped at her face. “I’m listening.”

“I’m on my way,” he said. “I’m also sending men to you to protect you until I can get there. They’ll identify themselves, and they won’t harm you. All you need to do is hold yourself together for another minute.”

Iris blinked, trying to clear her bleary sight as she wiped away the tears she couldn’t stop. “You’re sending people? I don’t—”

“It’s fine. They should be arriving now.” As he spoke, a black SUV pulled up to the curb just shy of the entrance. Dante continued as Iris watched. “I’m a few minutes out. If anything happens, go along with them.”

Iris swallowed, watching four men in dark clothes climb from the SUV and start directly toward her. She should have been intimidated, particularly by the sight of a gun holstered at one man’s hip. Yet instead, she found herself feeling reassured. “Okay.”

She was still kneeling on the ground, the phone lowered to her lap as she attempted to gather herself, when the forwardmost man reached her seconds later. “Mr. De Salvo sent us to protect you until he arrives. Are you hurt, ma’am?”

Iris shook her head, the sense of embarrassment helping to chase away the overwhelming emotion. “No…”

He inclined his head, made a wordless gesture, and the four men circled around her. They stood with their backs to her, nearly shoulder to shoulder, shielding her from sight. And everything else.

three

The Opposite Kind of Man

Dante swung from the SUV as soon as it rolled to a stop. He’d had plenty of time while they’d been stuck in traffic to envision Iris stranded, vulnerable, and terrified in the middle of a parking lot. He didn’t know the story yet on what had happened, specifically, but regardless of the answer, heads were going to roll. Only one thing mattered more than the punishment.

It was easy to spot the quartet of men he’d sent ahead. Harder to see what might be behind them. That was good. The two closest to him stepped aside as soon as he neared, ducking their heads in submission.

Iris stood behind them, purse on her shoulder and hands choking the strap. Her jade green eyes were wide and a little puffy, her fiery hair piled up on her head in a bun, and the fading sunlight was angled perfectly to highlight the cluster of freckles over the bridge of her nose. “You came…”

The soft surprise in her voice tore through him, adding another layer to his rage.

Dante stepped right into her personal space and cupped her cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away the remaining traces of her tears. “Nothing could have stopped me.”

Her fingers uncurled from her purse strap and she settled her hands on his chest, never taking her eyes from his.

One of the men cleared his throat and whispered, “Boss.”

Dante slid his fingers into her hair and pulled her forward, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead and letting himself breathe her in. He’d gotten barely a whiff of her at the restaurant, but having her against him like this, even for a second, soothed the raw edge inside him and roused something very different. Something he couldn’t afford to linger on just yet.

“What the hell’s goin’ on out here?” an unknown man demanded from somewhere beyond the line of Dante’s men.

Iris stiffened.

Dante straightened, lowering one arm to circle properly around her waist, and adjusted to look toward the man who’d tried to approach. “Hold him.”

Two of his men took hold of the guy in the grease-stained T-shirt, restraining his arms at awkward angles and using their feet to forcefully stop his movement.

Dante returned his attention to Iris, who was watching the scene in visible shock. “Eyes on me, Snapdragon,” he whispered in her ear. She whipped her focus back to him immediately. “Is this man the one who released your car?”

Her expression settled. “Yes,” she said.

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