Page 6 of Bite Marks

While flattered out of her high heels, it left a question hanging. “Why not just get a girl for real? You’re a good-looking man. I’m sure you have no problem notching your bedpost.”

“Well, that’s the thing. I can get plenty of dames but not the ones that hit all three of those criteria … I’ll be honest. I don’t do so well with those ladies. I originally thought to ask for your help with scoring a real lady, but I figured that this would be faster. Not to mention that if I came to you for pointers or lessons and we were seen, people might start to think that I was after you anyway.”

Hearing he had planned to get someone else didn’t sit right and cooled the heat that had built up from his compliments. “No. Dating you would be the last thing I’d want to do. Because of your job,” she added. She didn’t mind being known as an ice queen, but she didn’t want to become a heartless bitch. “There’s nothing in it for me.”

“Now, hold on. I said this was a business proposal, did I not?” Nunzio reached into the inner breast pocket of his waistcoat to pull out his phone. “You’re holding an exhibit for impressionist paintings, right?” He flipped through his phone, careful to return his eyes to Vanessa’s as often as possible. She had to give him points for holding her attention. “What if I added a painting I own to that? A Claude Monet.”

He turned the phone to her, and she gasped. Staring back at her was one of Monet’s earliest paintings,View from Rouelles. The green trees and grass swayed around a boy fishing in a calm creek.

“You do not have this,” she blurted out in English. She shook her head and repeated herself in Italian.

Nunzio set the phone on the table, allowing her to continue to gaze at the image. “I do. It’s at my house right now.”

“And how the fuck did you get your hands on it? Fall off the back of a truck?” Even though most people around probably couldn’t understand Italian, she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper as she snarled the words.

His eyes grew deep like a thunderhead brimming with energy. “There’s that fire. This …” He placed his finger just above the phone and tapped the table a couple times. “This is what makes you feel alive.” His insufferable grin nearly earned him a slap. If it wasn’t so damn good-looking, she’d send it flying through the window. “Good to know. I got this through my grandfather. He purchased it legally, passed, and left it to me. Interesting, don’t you think? Your grandfather leaves you a gallery, and mine leaves me a painting. Something poetic about that.”

“I swear to God Almighty, if you make some joke about how a painting goes inside a gallery, I’m going to shove my heel so far up your ass.”

He burst into laughter. “No, no. I wouldn’t, but your mind is a very interesting place. I’d love to get in there and learn more someday. So, what do you say? A painting for your gallery in exchange for a few dates.”

She crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned back in her chair.This would keep the society pages from ridiculing me. God, this is the exact miracle I was hoping for. A fucking Monet just plops right into my lap.

She stared across the table at Nunzio. This would save her reputation. Another lesson her father taught her; having people know who you were wasn’t exactly enough to make it in the world. They needed to know who you wereandthink highly of you. He’d used some examples about men knowing who the town whore was, but none of them marrying her. Crude, but the point was still valid in this situation.

If people knew her as the gallery owner that could only hobble together half a collection, she’d be ruined. No one would want to be shown by her. But if she could bring masterpieces together, then she’d have a line out around the block of people trying to get their works through her doors.

She reached her hand across the table. “Deal.”

Nunzio’s grin was subdued by the intensity of his eyes. He grabbed her hand, and they shook on it.

Part of her was a little miffed that Nunzio hadn’t come on stronger and asked her out for real. She would have been backed into the same corner she was already in and said yes. They got along well enough. It might have been interesting.Well, who knows? We might have some fun on these pretend dates by accident.

After letting go of her hand, he cocked a brow. “There’s going to be a big family gathering at Capo Feluccia’s place this weekend. I’d like it if you could come so I can introduce you, that is, as my new girlfriend. Most everyone already knows you.”

Shit. I haven’t been to the Feluccia’s in nearly ten years.Reality set in. She would be going to a lot of mob families’ homes, parties, and outings. If the dates were pretend, there had to be an audience to pretend in front of.Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into?

FOUR

NUNZIO

Nunzio parked his car in front of Vanessa’s gallery and stepped out onto the street. As he walked around the car, Vanessa came out through the front door in an amazing green dress. Matching her emerald eyes and contrasting her scarlet hair, it slid down her curves to her knees. She wore a cropped, turtleneck sweater that stretched to cover her chest, her gold medallion hanging down to her breasts. The black wool must have done well against the cool evening air as she didn’t show any signs of being cold.

“Well, I guess you get your wish.” She smiled and lowered herself into his car.

He held the door for her and waited an extra moment before shutting it, taking her in.I see why the Don wants me to have a dame like her. Ah! This is all pretend, knucklehead. Don’t forget that. It’s just business.

When he sat in his seat, she asked him a question. “What was that?”

Nunzio grinned. “I was just thinking about how a friend said a beautiful woman will make me look better.” He glanced at her with a salacious heat in his chest that he couldn’t hold back from reaching his eyes. “But you make everything look better, even that seat. You don’t look good in it. It looks good under you.”

Her cheeks flushed with color, but she saw the window for teasing and took it. “Oh? I don’t look good in it?”

He laughed. “You look good all by yourself. From now on, though, I’m going to look at that seat, and whenever you’re not in it, I’m going to think just how much better it is when it’s contouring around your feminine beauty.”

“I think it’s a beautiful car.” She shrugged and ran her fingers along the door.

Nunzio reached over, placing a hand on her thigh. “And I think you’re a beautiful woman,” he said in Italian.

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