Page 45 of Crazed

"What?"

"We'll go to St. Pete on our trip," I declare.

Her eyes widen. A flash of panic flies across her expression, but it disappears so quickly, I think I might have imagined it. A smile replaces the fleeing anxiety, and she breathes, "Really? You'd take me there?"

I slide my thumb over her stained lips. "Yeah, dolce. If that's where you want to go, then that's where we'll go."

She blinks hard, and her eyes glisten.

The vehicle pulls up to the club. My stomach flips. I wish I could erase all the nerves over this opening. I'm not used to feeling anything but confidence. I muster all I have, give her a chaste kiss, then proclaim, "If you haven't figured it out by now, whatever you want in life, I'll make it happen."

More emotions overpower her face, and she strokes my cheek. In a low voice, she states, "I don't deserve you."

I huff. "Nonsense. Don't say that ever again."

She takes a deep breath.

I glance out the window at the red carpet, photographers, and press. "Are you ready to fight this chaos?"

She turns her head and mutters, "Wow."

"Crazy, huh?"

She locks eyes with me. "This is insane."

"Don't be nervous. Just stay by me, dolce," I instruct.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," she replies.

I kiss her hand. "Good. Let's get past all this madness," I state, then knock on the window.

The driver opens the door. I get out, reach for Katiya, and pull her out of the SUV. When she's steady on her feet, I kiss her quickly then spin into the crowd, proud she's on my arm.

It's another new feeling for me. I've dated models, actresses, and rich heiresses. It's not the first red carpet I've walked. The women were good eye candy, but there wasn't much more to them to keep my interest.

Everything with Katiya is different. When I'm with her, it's as if we're two puzzle pieces that are the perfect fit. She's gorgeous but also intelligent with a bit of naivety. Her semi-cold exterior she often shows the world does something to me. Even with her innocence, she still holds her own with confidence.

And I won't deny that our fifteen-year age difference is a turn-on for me. I've worked hard to keep in shape as I've aged, but her energy makes me feel young again. Plus, she's got a body that would compete with any cover model.

I tug her closer to me and murmur in her ear, "Just keep your chin up and a smile on your face."

She obeys, glancing at me, and I steal another kiss. The purple, strappy minidress I bought her fits like a glove. All I can think about is what I want to do to her while she wears nothing but the gold stilettos and lingerie she has on underneath.

Lights flash all around us. Several reporters call out my name. At the end of the red carpet, I answer some questions, introduce Katiya, and spell her full name for the press. By the time we step inside, I'm ready to be past the media.

"You did good, dolce," I praise. Once my eyes adjust to the darker atmosphere, I lead her past security and into the main area of the club. Soft lights glow on the walls. Ten bars, all made from different colored metals and crystals, already have lines formed. Four floors of VIP suites overlook the main one. The large dance floor is empty, but there won't be any space on it later tonight. Guests occupy different sitting areas, both public and more discreet ones. A band plays indie music but only for the next hour. Then New York's two hottest DJs, Cray Cray and Lipster, will take over.

"The press was nerve-racking," Katiya confesses.

I grin. "You made it look easy."

"I did?"

I brush her lips, saying, "One hundred percent." I kiss her then look up. I catch a glimpse of Tristano's head on the fourth floor. My stomach does a little nosedive.

It's now or never.

My family better give her a chance.

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