Page 21 of Gin & Trouble

“Sibling drama?” Iris rolled her chair into my cube using only her feet.

“Isn’t it always?”

I’d told her a little more than I probably should have about the situation with my sisters. Iris had immediately jumped to the conclusion that I was from India or somewhere in the Middle East where arranged marriages were common. I hadn’t corrected her.

“Are they still in hiding?” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I’ve been doing some research. I might have found a guy who can get them passports.”

“Thanks, but passports aren’t really the problem. I’m sure my brother has men looking for them.” In fact, I’d bet my gaming mouse finger he had people looking for me and Sophia, too. Which was another reason we’d stayed in New Orleans as long as we had. Tommaso would never think to look for us in Marchionni territory.

Iris nodded and scooted back toward her cube. “I want the Danny deets at lunch.”

“Maybe at happy hour.” I sighed and turned back to my computer.

A few moments later, someone cleared their throat behind me—someone with a deep male voice.

Scrambling to minimize the window, I knocked a stack of files onto the floor and sloshed my coffee dangerously close to my keyboard.

“Whoa there. Easy.” Dante knelt at the same time I reached for the fallen folders.

Our heads collided so hard I felt the jolt in my molars.

“Damn it. Sorry.” He stood and rubbed his brow.

“What are you—” The question died on my tongue when I met his gaze.

Although dark circles shadowed his eyes, he was simply stunning. The man brought to mind every cheesy romance novel description I’d ever read. Square jaw, Roman nose, chiseled cheekbones, piercing eyes. His full lips should have softened his face. However, they were currently set in a deep frown.

Don’t fall for it. Satan was beautiful, too.

“You didn’t answer your IM.” He glanced at my monitor.

I busied myself by mopping up the spilled coffee. “I was working.”

“Were you watching security footage from my folks’ house?”

“It’s my job. I’m developing the artificial intelligence system.” I hated how unsure I sounded almost as much as I hated how I couldn’t stop staring at him. Staring and remembering him naked.

I’d separated the man I’d known as Danny and Dante Marchionni in my mind. Danny was a computer nerd who had a panache for cosplay costumes. Dante, on the other hand, dressed like a douche.

He crowded into my cube in his sleek black suit that cost more than most people made in a year. The expensive fabric fit him like an expertly tailored glove.

Okay, so he dressed like a GQ cover-model, billionaire douche.

“I’ve seen the early prototypes. Your work is impressive.” Dante studied my face. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

I didn’t. The thick frames, mousy blonde hair, and 50s style makeup belonged to Julia Carpenter, notme. The mud colored, two-sizes-too-big cardigan, beige work pants, and sensible brown shoes were as much a costume as the Harley Quinn pleather or the metal bikini I’d worn at the gaming convention.

He scratched his jaw. “You weren’t wearing them over the weekend.”

“Contacts.” I turned my attention back to my computer and prayed he’d get the hint and buzz off.

“Julia?”

“I’m really busy.” I made the mistake of looking into his stupid green eyes and froze.

Holding my gaze, Dante leaned into my personal space, removed my glasses, and lifted my chin.

The gesture felt so intimate, I thought he might kiss me. The very idea left me breathless, needy, and completely at war with myself. He was a Marchionni, the people determined to ruin my family.

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