Page 4 of Kidnapped Forced Mate

It was always a matter of keeping our identities hidden. Right now, it’s the inner dragon who pushes me forward just as the van speeds out ahead. It’s the innate dragon that has fire igniting in my soul, panic rising like bile in my throat. I can’t stand idly by; the need to save a human is stronger than the need to protect my identity. It crawls under my skin, prompting my dragon to the fore, my wings carrying me forward swiftly to save the human.

I’ll deal with the repercussions when they come.

Chapter 2 - Olivia

Gazing with starry eyes at the man seated across from me, I prop my chin in my palm.

He lifts dark eyes from the top of the menu, lips curling as he chuckles lowly. “What is it, signorina?” Luca, my date, asks with a brooding, thick Italian accent.

Momentarily dazed, I have to remind myself not to go stumbling down a road I won’t be able to come back from, like falling for the handsome Italian man, with his swooning charms and distinctly honeyed voice.

It’s always so much easier in the books and movies, to fall for the hot bad boy despite the things he does for a living. I have to bear in mind that doing horrible things in the real world isn’t as glamorous as it’s made out to be in the movies.

Still, I find myself gravitating toward his charms, smiling shyly at his brazen taunts and blushing when he brushes his fingertips across my arms. I’ve relegated it to the fact that I’m still very much a virgin.

Painfully so. At the ripe age of twenty-seven, I’ve hardly even been kissed. Unless the chaotic head-bump with Alex in high school during a dare counts for something. Our lips never met, but it was the thought that counts.

Right?

Either way, I wonder how Luca’s lips might have felt if I’d allowed him to kiss mine. Despite my better judgment, the soft, pouty cushions that always appear moist seem to be beckoning me to cross that bridge.

After all, I’m only a virgin because I’d been spending way too much time focusing on my career. One that entails that I seduce the Italian Mafia boss to gather information needed to put him behind bars.

I can’t help but salivate at the natural charms he exudes. If he believes I’m falling in love with him, it’s an added advantage. Though I’m too starved for human touch for this to be an appropriate job description, I had to seize the opportunity to go undercover to put this man behind bars.

Still, it helps that I’m even remotely disarmed by his charms. He believes I’m just a painter, who would love to paint his naked form on my canvas.

“Signorina…?” he repeats, this time leaving his menu on the side on reaching out for my hand. When the warmth of his fingers envelops mine, a shiver of awareness courses through me. But it’s not one I welcome at all. It’s more like a warning sign that reminds me that this man is no good.

Of course, he isn’t. That’s why I’m here, in a fancy restaurant in Las Vegas, after he’d flown me down from California, citing that he could no longer stay away from me. It was a win for the FBI, and I’d been congratulated for winning over the Italian Mafia boss.

I just have to keep reminding myself that his intensely penetrating dark eyes and salacious smile are just powers of manipulation he wields as the Devil himself. My life’s purpose had become putting men like him behind bars, and it can’t change now. I’m not willing to turn into the Bonnie to his Clyde.

There is justice that needs to be served. In a world full of greed and terror, it’s men like him who cause chaos and destruction. He has to be stopped.

“Nothing’s wrong, Luca…” I drawl, deliberately drawing out my voice as I brush my manicured fingertips across his knuckles. When his smile becomes toothed, it’s almost as if a flash of lightning crosses his eyes like a bolt of menace.

I have to hide the urge to gulp down the bile rising in my throat. So I force my lips into a smile and reach for the champagne, taking a sip big enough to wash down the acrid bile. When I’m able to think clearly again, he turns in his seat, sending a potent whiff of his sandalwood cologne through the air. It fazes me only momentarily, long enough to regain my composure, when the waiter comes over and Luca orders more champagne.

“So, Signorina…” he begins to purr when the waiter’s left again. “I am glad you’ve joined me tonight. We will be staying at The Bellagio.” He reaches for my hand and strokes my knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

If I wasn’t working a case as an undercover agent, I would have probably lost myself in his eyes, the dark depths bearing the weight of what he’s suggesting.

Batting my eyelids at him, I stare at our hands as he intertwines his fingers with mine. “You know I don’t care much for that,” I remind him with a pout. “All of this…” I gesture around the fancy restaurant. “... It’s not me.”

“The dress is you,” he drawls, eye twinkling with heady demure.

“Only ‘cause you told me where we’d be dining,” I sigh in frustration. “I would have been okay with just going to your place,” I shrug. We’d been seeing each other for little over two months now, and I have yet to see where he lives. We already know where he lives – in a villa in Sedona – but no one can enter because of security.

That’s why I’m here – to infiltrate the villa and gather as much information as I can. The only trouble is that Luca Mancini doesn’t trust me fully yet. That’s why our dates are always anywhere but Sedona, being picked up by his limo or flown off in his private jet.

Baby steps, but we’re getting there. Perhaps, after tonight, he’ll really trust me and show me to his villa.

Luca groans lightly, leaning back in his chair but keeping my hand in his. “My place is… Not as grand as this,” he lies, though he doesn’t know that I am aware of just how grand his villa is. “I’m only trying to impress you.”

“Well, consider me impressed,” I muse, though it’s a lie too. It’s hardly anything to be impressed by an arms dealer who supplies weapons to the oppressors in the Middle East. Luca thinks I only know him as a salesman of high-end vehicles. I’d like to keep it that way.

What worries me is the part where he expects more than just hand-holding. If I can make it through the night, I might just be able to achieve what I’m here for.

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