Page 82 of Tainted Princess
“You gonna need help with that one?” he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the approaching pain in my ass.
“Nah, I think I got this handled.”
“Good,” Rock replied, his mischievous smile making me wonder just what the hell he was up to. “Because there’s someone down on the floor I’m gonna go get. I’ll be back for the fight.”
I stared at my second’s back as he high-tailed it to the stairs that led to the main floor. He’d probably seen his chosen piece for the night. Rock liked to stand up in the booth and pick out a woman or two to take home with him; he said it was like shooting fish in a barrel. Seeing as how he hardly ever got turned down, I couldn’t help but agree with him.
The empty chair to my left shifted, and I turned to meet the angry gaze of Jerry Lebowitz.
Just what I fuckin’ needed right now.
“Enzo,” he said, obviously still salty over the way Francesca had trounced him so soundly last night. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“I don’t see what there is to talk about, Jerry,” I said, staring at the stain on his polo shirt—the same polo shirt he’d worn last night. “I was fairly certain our business was concluded satisfactorily last night.”
“Fifteen percent is a fucking dick move, Enzo,” he growled. “Or should I say bitch move, seeing as how it was your bitch that arranged it.”
The anger that had been slowly simmering in my chest notched a little higher at his words, approaching a boil faster than Jerry would appreciate.
“You had better be very careful with the next words that come out of your mouth, Jerry. I am not going to take any more of your shit regarding Francesca.”
Jerry swallowed, seeing in my face just how serious I was about this, and changed his approach.
“I just,” he stuttered, sweating visibly and giving another deep sniff. I could see some heads turning toward our conversation, Anton being one of them, and I didn’t like it. This was not the place to conduct this kind of business, and Jerry was fuckin’ stupid if he thought I’d be happy about it. “I was hoping that we could talk again, just the two of us. If we could—” Jerry cut himself off, his face going white and his eyes huge as he shifted his gaze to behind me. I frowned, following where he was looking, and when I saw what he had seen, my heart sped up, a wave of anticipation running through me like the very best tequila; hot and intoxicating and more than a little addictive.
Because there she was, my sometimes-nemesis. My wife.
She crested the top of the stairs like she owned the place—and I guessed, according to my lawyer, she did—then stopped to look around, her entourage of two fanning out behind her. Francesca assessed her domain like a lioness, her shrewd golden eyes instantly sorting everyone into categories, predator or prey. I could see the moment she clocked me, not showing an ounce of the surprise she registered last night when we came face to face atSin City.
Her expression remained impassive, like the sight of me didn’t strike her as either good or bad, and I fuckin’hatedthat. How could she be so completely composed when I was sittin’ here feelin’ like my heartbeat could be heard across the room?
Francesca looked incredible, her outfit, some sort of feminine business suit thing, looked both authoritative and sexy at the same time. I let my eyes linger on the smooth tanned skin of her abdomen, my mind creating all kinds of scenarios where I could taste her, hold her down and drag my tongue over every golden inch of her. Her tits, which had previously looked small and inconsequential, were suddenly all I could see as I raised my eyes to the lacy blood red top she had under her suit jacket. I would never have guessed that a woman in a suit could look that good, but fuck me, she was so sexy I could hardly breathe.
Not wanting to let her know how the sight of her had me hard in my own pants—again—I instead stared back at her, my jaw aching from how hard my teeth were clenched. I was just thinking about how much I needed a drink when one appeared in front of my face.
“Here you are, Enzo,” Amber said, her voice all high and breathy. “Just the way you like it.” Taking the glass, I took a deep drink, the cold liquor doing nothing to put out the fire that seeing Francesca had created. I looked at Jerry, who was staring between Amber and Francesca, then I looked at Amber myself. I could tell the moment she noted Francesca standing near the stairs because Amber sat on the side of my chair again and draped her arm around my shoulders, her long nails scraping my scalp at the nape of my neck, making me cringe.
I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t help it. I had to see what Francesca’s reaction would be. I had to know if she felt anything close to the fiery possession I was constantly subjected to when I looked at her.
But her beautiful face gave nothing away, frozen as it was in that impassive mask she wore so well.
Instead, she shifted her gaze to my left, and this time, when she noted Jerry, she did show something: anger. I pushed Amber away, ignoring her indignant pout as she stumbled off the arm of my chair and landed clumsily on her high heels. I needed to watch this, needed to see how she would handle herself, and I couldn’t afford to have Amber causing any kind of a distraction.
Leaving Lexi and Vinnie behind, Francesca stormed past Rock and marched right up to Jerry, who paled even further.
“Lebowitz, I thought we had a deal.”
“Uh, Francesca. Yeah, we...uh, we did. I just thought—”
“There’s your first mistake, Jerry. Thinking. You’re not good at it, so I don’t recommend you do it again.” Her curt words cut through the sound of the fight below and now everyone in the booth was staring, watching as my stunning wife once again tore Jerry to pieces.
For his part, Jerry was hiding what I knew would be his impotent fury behind a red face of embarrassment. He breathed heavily through his nose, huffing his anger out so he wouldn’t say something that would piss Francesca off further.
“Now, under the terms we discussed last night, you were explicitly forbidden from attempting to renegotiate, is that not correct?”
Jerry narrowed his eyes, the hate he felt for Francesca showing clearly in his cloudy gaze, but he nodded anyway.
“And yet, here you are, purposely defying me. Why is that, Jerry? Do you have a death wish, or are you just stupid?” Jerry opened his mouth, but Francesca held up a hand. “Don’t answer that, because either way, you’re wrong.”
