Page 45 of SINS & Lies

My heart races with worry. Why is she here? Is she taking Truffles away?

“He’ll need a quick walk before our flight,” she reassures me, her voice soothing as the words our flight settle in. Before I can react, a bedazzled leash is wrapped around my little dog’s tiny neck, and off they go.

He looks ridiculous. And adorable. Prancing about like some high-priced show dog strutting his stuff for a competition. It’s as if he knows how impressive Savannah Whitaker is.

Her happy-go-lucky giggles encourage the little guy, and it tugs at my heartstrings, watching my little dumpster buddy experience the life he deserves.

They walk further away, and a trace of unease lingers in the air. “She’s joining us?” I ask.

Enzo, absorbed in texting, nods without looking up. “Yes,” he confirms, his thumbs tapping away. Then he adds, “It’s a ten-hour flight. I want you all to myself, Bella. If you’re preoccupied with the dog, you won’t be able to focus.”

“Focus?”

“On me.”

I gaze up at him, stunned. “You hired a celebrity dog trainer just so I can spend the better part of ten hours tending to your needs?”

Finally, he pockets his phone and lets out a slow breath. He takes two steps closer, his presence commanding, his gaze intense. “No, Bella,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening. “So I can tend to yours.”

Holy fuck.

He wants to tend to my needs? Because of all the men I’ve been with, which I could count on one hand, not one of them was interested in tending to my needs. Hell, my needs were better satisfied with a hot novel and my hand.

Unexpectedly, he cradles both my cheeks in his hands, and the temperature jumps a hundred degrees. His kiss is smooth and hard and so unapologetic. Instantly, my panties are soaked.

When his tongue swipes through my open lips, I can’t breathe.

All I can think of is the way his stubble would feel between my legs. His kiss deepens, and—did I say a hundred degrees? Make that a thousand degrees.

His arms wrap around me, and my body is forced forward onto his cock, and there’s a whole lot of it. So much, in fact, my gasp is audible.

I’m a little stunned.

And scared.

It’s been a long time for me and, oh, hell, am I even going to be able to stand by the end of this flight?

Ruff-ruff!

His lips tear from mine as we turn to see Truffles prancing around like it’s the best day ever. “I can’t believe you arranged this for him,” I say, genuinely surprised he didn’t shoot little Truffles and toss him on the grill.

“I did this for me,” he says, tightening his hold around my waist. “Cute and cuddly is the worst cock block ever.”

A light laugh bubbles up from my chest as he kisses my temple tenderly, and for a moment, everything feels so right. In a surreal, twilight zone sort of way. What’s happening here? Do all mafia men have a need to play house?

Or just Enzo?

And is that what we’re doing? Playing?

Not that I’m complaining. If anyone needs an escape from reality, it’s this girl.

Enzo’s gaze remains fixed on Savannah as she effortlessly commands Truffles to sit and stay, a task the little dog surprisingly masters in an instant. Meanwhile, I keep stealing glances at him.

His rugged features, softened by the gentle curve of his full lips and thick brows, make him undeniably gorgeous. But beneath that exterior lies an arrogant and dangerous man, legendary for leaving broken bones and shattered hearts in his wake.

We’re interrupted by one of his men, and instantly, Enzo snaps our connection apart. Though I can’t hear what the guard is saying, I can tell by the shift in Enzo’s expression—from easy-going to hardened stone—whatever he’s saying isn’t good.

“Get on the damn plane,” he orders sharply, his voice leaving no room for negotiation.

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