Page 3 of SINS & Temptation

His breath is hot against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. “Behave, Bella. And tonight, I’ll give you exactly what you need.”

And when he kisses me, that sensual blend of hot lips and rough stubble, I suddenly can’t breathe. The world fades away until it’s just him and me and?—

“And you must be Kennedy,” the sweet man says with a warm smile.

I extend my hand for a shake, but he gently cups my cheeks and kisses each one. He then turns to Enzo, repeating the gesture, which Enzo reciprocates. “Kennedy, this is Giovanni,” Enzo introduces.

“Gio,” he corrects, patting my hand as he takes it again. “You must call me Gio.” His accent is thick and warm, wrapping around me like a cozy pashmina in fall. “Anything you need, you call Gio, eh?”

Enzo checks his phone, a hard line forming at his brow. Jaw clenched, he looks up. “Which one is mine?”

I glance around, confused. Which one what?

Ahead of us are two sleek black cars, each with its own driver. They’re lined up like they’re about to kick off a parade, with a dozen armed guards standing by for a gun salute.

Gio kisses my hand and, with a paternal touch on my back, leads me forward in an old-world manner. “You come with me, bellissima.”

Enzo instantly yanks me from the man’s hold in an uncharacteristically playful tug of war that makes me grin. “Get your own girl, Giovanni. This one is mine.”

For a week, I silently remind myself.

Gio laughs a hearty laugh, his eyes sparkling. He playfully nestles my hand into his arm and leads me away from Enzo. “We’ll see, ragazzino,” he says with a wink.

“Ragazzino?” I ask.

Enzo cuts in. “It means Italian stud.”

“More like little boy,” Gio teases.

Enzo mutters something under his breath with enough fervor that it has to be an Italian swear word. But when his golden eyes lock onto mine, there’s a playful glint. It’s clear he and Gio are close. “Don’t push me,” Enzo threatens, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Gio waves him off, completely unfazed, and leads me to the first car. “We take this one,” he whispers, loud enough for Enzo to hear. “Drive him insane with jealousy.”

The growl that rumbles from Enzo’s chest could register on the Richter scale. He slips on his sunglasses with a sharp glare. “I don’t get jealous.” Sure, keep telling yourself that.

As the driver opens the car door, I spot my sweet pup Truffles already in the back seat. Then it hits me. “Where’s Savannah?”

Enzo straightens his tie, a smirk playing on his lips. “Her services were no longer required.” He leans in, his lips brushing my cheek. “Dinner is at seven. Don’t keep me waiting.”

I slide into the back seat, my mind spinning. Does Enzo know what Savannah told me? Did he do something to her?

“Where is she?” I ask nervously.

“Being slowly tortured for the next ten hours.”

What?

The door shuts as a knot of worry tightens in my chest.

Is that mob humor?

Or is he serious?

Rather than Enzo getting behind the wheel, Giovanni slides in. I watch as Enzo gets into his own vehicle and speeds off without a backward glance.

I shake off the small pang of hurt at that and focus on the road as we head in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?” I ask, forcing a small smile.

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