Page 32 of Bastard Prince
Putting my back to the bar, I leaned one elbow on the scarred wood, sipping this glass a bit slower, and eyed Francesca as she stood across the room.
She was a fuckin’ vision in that hot as fuck dress, small and curvy in all the right places. But that wasn’t the only thing about her that I liked. The woman was fierce, tough as nails where it counted, but still soft enough for a man to appreciate. She knew her shit in the business, talked circles around anyone who thought they could get in her face, and had the balls to back up whatever she said.
Add to that the fact that the sex was incredible and she gave an excellent blowjob, and she was basically my perfect woman.
I thought back to earlier in the evening, Francesca on her knees in the dim light of the empty banquet room. She shocked the hell out of me with those skills. The vision in my head of her golden eyes staring up at me as she swallowed me whole was enough to get my dick stirring again. Where the hell did the virgin princess learn to do that?
Frowning, I clenched my fist as I realized I knewexactlywhere she’d learned to do that.
Son of a bitch.
I tossed back the rest of my drink. I guess I’d never be referring to him as Special Agent Fuckface again.
Slamming my glass down on the bar, I made to go to her, to confront her and find out what she was hiding. I wanted to know everything about her; all her secret desires and fantasies, every dream she’d ever had, and every way she wanted to prove to the world that she was just as good as any Made Man that had ever come out of New York.
I wanted to make every one of them come true.
But I couldn’t do a fuckin’ thing if she was lying to me.
I had barely taken two steps when my phone started to ring. Fishing it out of my pants, I stared at the name on the screen.
Veer Towers.
What the fuck? We hadn’t stayed there in almost a week. What the hell did they want?
“Yeah?” I snapped, ready to be done with this goddamn night already.
“M-Mr. Argenti?” came the shaky voice on the other end of the phone.
“Who’s asking?”
“This is Arnold, with Veer Towers Concierge. I’m afraid there has been a bit of an incident in your unit this evening.”
“What kind of an incident?”
“Um, actually, there was a break-in.”
I shot my eyes to Rock, who stiffened. “I’m on my way,” I barked into the phone. “Don’t touch a thing.”
I hung up before the guy could reply. Rocco was already moving, the two of us in sync as always. Francesca headed toward me, her eyes curious.
“What’s going on?”
I stopped, staring at her face and wondering just how much I could trust her and hating that I even had to ask. “Nothing you need to worry about. Have Vinnie drive you back to the house. I got some shit to take care of.”
“Enzo, wait.”
“Home, Francesca. Now.”
I was up the stairs and out the door as fast as I could manage, grabbing my jacket from the back of the chair as I passed. Rocco trailed me out through the club and into the parking lot ofDeuces Wild,our cars parked side by side in our reserved spots.
“You wanna talk about it?” he asked, watching me like I was a rabid animal.
“Not a fuckin’ chance,” I responded smoothly. He laughed, shaking his head as he climbed into his own car, not having a clue where I was headed, but prepared to follow me anyway.
Rocco Campanelli was ride or die.
The drive to the building was short, but traffic on Las Vegas Boulevard was a snarled mess of limos and idiot pedestrians, making what should have been a five-minute drive into a twenty-minute nightmare. Not wanting to think about all the shit that was suddenly going sideways in my life, I stared straight ahead, watching the lights of my city flash by in a carnival of colors, letting their soothing familiarity calm my fraying nerves.
