Page 11 of Hot-Blooded Killer

The breast Diamond pressed against me had been artificial, perky and uplifted but hard, whereas when Gia stood to shake my hand, I had glimpsed a swell of lush cleavage, held in place by a bra, but almost certainly genuine and round.

I find myself wanting to hold the globes of her breasts in my hands, to run my thumbs across the nipples, hear her moan my name.

By the time Diamond walks in, I’m in the chair behind my desk, busy with paperwork.

“Sorry,” I tell her without glancing up. “Something’s come up. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

She leaves and I heave a sigh.

This is going to be more difficult than I expected.

CHAPTER5

GIA

Okay. So it’s probably ridiculous for me to insist that Lorenzo take me out on dates as if we were truly courting.

But I’m used to being seen as my father’s pawn, and I’ve spent the last several years imagining what it will be like to get out of that space. And I’ll use Pop’s agreement with Lorenzo to change everyone’s view of me.

The fact that I insist on a whirlwind romance, fake though it might be, means we have to meet in public—we’re planning the phoniest meet-cute in all of creation.

So the Saturday after we all sign the prenup, Lorenzo and I make arrangements to bump into each other at one of Pop’s clubs, as if by accident.

I don’t expect to feel anything about tonight, but as I get dressed in my apartment—the apartment I will soon have to give up in order to move into Lorenzo’s family’s home—I realize my heart is pounding, my breath fluttering with nerves.

“Calm the fuck down, Gia,” I admonish myself, staring into my own eyes in the mirror.

It doesn’t matter how tonight goes. We could loathe each other, and we are still going to get married.

Of course, hating him will make it more difficult to convince everyone that we’re madly in love. But not impossible.

After all, it’s not like I ever expected to marry for love.

So what is that hint of sadness lurking at the bottom of my gaze as I stare back at myself from the mirror?

With an irritated sigh, I flick my hair back over one shoulder and turn away from my accusing glare. I move toward the door, where I slip on a pair of Miu Miu pumps and grab my evening bag from the entryway table.

In the hallway, Bruno, the bodyguard on duty tonight, falls in behind me. Neither of us says a word as we reach the parking garage, and when we step off the elevator, the driver Gino nods in greeting.

“Are we going to pick up Sarah and Adele?” Gino asks.

“Always,” I say with a smile. Those two women are my best friends among the Mafia princesses my father prefers I spend my time with. They’re also two of the biggest gossips in my circle—and that makes them the two people we will most need to convince that Lorenzo and I are madly in love.

They’re both waiting for us at Sarah’s father’s home, where they’ve gotten ready together. Their own bodyguards follow them out and slide into the back of the limo with us.

Bruno could keep an eye on us all easily enough—not to mention whatever men Lorenzo has arranged to have placed in the club—but Sarah’s and Adele’s own fathers would not hear of it. So every time we all go out together, it takes an entire stretch limo to accommodate not only us, but our bodyguards and any dates we might start or end the evening with.

“Girl,” Adele purrs as she slides into the seat next to me, “nice dress.”

Sarah’s gaze flicks up and down my body. “Dolce & Gabbana?”

Trust Sarah to recognize haute couture at first glance.

This is the first time I’ve worn the dress, though I’ve had it for several weeks. It’s simple, but elegant—at least the top half. A black sheath dress that hugs my curves and ends right under my ass cheeks. I’ll have to be careful getting in and out of the car, and bending over at the club is a terrible idea.

I won’t admit it even to myself, but I chose the dress not only because it shows off my legs, but also simply to see if Lorenzo reacts to it at all. I saw the way he looked at me in Pop’s office.

Pulling off this scam on our social circle will be easier if he wants me.

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