Dangerous Stranger: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Piper Stone

  Or any man for that matter.

  My sudden unbridled desire had everything to do with several of the art pieces hanging on the vibrantly splashed walls of the gallery. The paintings weren’t merely provocative in nature. They were highly erotic, stimulating in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

  Rein it in, girl.

  My inner voice was right. I was here to help out my favorite relative, not to engage in carnal activities of any kind.

  “Are you... how do you say... alright?” The girl’s broken English was far better than I’d expected, and I was grateful given my Spanish was rusty and a good portion of the population spoke an entirely different language. At least she could be my interpreter for some of the customers. If there were any customers. In the week since I’d arrived, two people had come into the store, one couple absolutely horrified at the paintings. However, the entire experience was preferable to what I’d left behind, no matter the circumstances.

  “I am perfect, Elena.” I sighed as I walked back to the small office, unable to take my eyes off the busy street through the window.

  I’d never dreamed I would be able to work in such a gorgeous location in the world, even if I was scared out of my mind. I was in another country all by myself, suddenly responsible for the welfare of a beautiful galleria, something I’d never done before. While I’d studied art history, although with several other things in college, I was by no means some expert on either paintings or sculptures. And art of this nature? Um, not even close.

  Yet my aunt had placed me in charge while going on what she called an extended holiday—honeymoon with her fifth husband to date. I laughed at the thought. Lucia Martina was a true free spirit, a woman after my own heart but definitely not my mother’s. I’d always found it hard to believe they were sisters, if only by blood, the women growing up in separate countries. My mother would have freaked out if she knew what Lucia was selling.

  If only my mother was still alive. I glanced around the beautifully lit walls, the dozens of works of art almost comforting. At least I’d been close to my aunt, even visiting her in Spain once before.

  But living here? Working here?

  I was in way over my head, the attack aside. The area of town was far superior, dazzling in so many ways, yet I remained uncomfortable as hell, checking the locks on my aunt’s flat three times a night. I hated myself for doing so. She was the only family I had, and I’d do anything for her. I longed for a big family, the kind portrayed in Hallmark cards and Christmas movies. That wasn’t in the cards. This was the closest I was going to get to catching a glimpse of those longings.

  Maybe I just needed a boost to keep me going in order to shove the sadness aside. This was a fresh start. Right?

  “However,” I added. “I think it’s time for coffee. Would you like some coffee?” I grabbed my purse, already headed toward the door.

  “Sure. Why not? You Americans and your love of coffee,” Elena huffed.

  I had a love of the vibrant city and the romance surrounding the area, but in truth, I needed the caffeine to keep going. I’d been here almost a full week and merely trying to get my aunt’s books organized had driven me nearly bat shit crazy. How she’d made any money at all was beyond me.

  As I walked outside, another eerie feeling swept through me, as if the same monster was hiding in one of the store alcoves. I’d had the same feeling every time I’d left the galleria, unable to get the vision of the dangerous stranger out of my mind.

  Dark.

  Demanding.

  Delicious.

  Jesus. I had to get my head out of my ass. There was no dark knight any more than there was one dressed in white.

  The day was just as beautiful as the one before, the light breeze wafting dozens of scents in my direction. Including gasoline. There were hundreds of vehicles passing back and forth and while they were all compact, they still had powerful horns. Thank God my aunt’s flat was within walking distance. Renting a car at this point wasn’t an option. I preferred keeping the accident-free discount on my insurance.

  As I headed toward the local café, what had become a new favorite haunt, I heard the whistles from at least two admirers, both men gorgeous. At least I was able to indulge in the local eye candy.

  The corner location was bustling as usual. The lunch and early afternoon crowd would give way soon enough to the happy hour group, enjoying their share of wine and liquor, something I’d yet to indulge in away from the flat.

  “Savannah,” the woman behind the counter said, her accent pronounced as she struggled with her English. “I miss you yesterday.”

  “Yesterday was crazy, Angelina.”

  “But I made your favorite bread,” she said, shaking her head.

  Out of the blue I’d made a pseudo friend who also knew my habits far too well in a single week. Maybe it was time to explore more of the city, finding at least one new location to haunt. “I’m just so busy. If you will, two very large coffees today.”

  “While understood, you need to get out more. You’re a beautiful girl. You need a boyfriend. There are many gorgeous men in this town. Go to the beach.” Angelina winked as she moved to the other counter, grabbing two cups.

  “The last thing I need is a boyfriend. I have far too much work to do.” What I hadn’t experienced was even a single trip to one of the glorious beaches surrounding the city. Maybe this weekend.

  She shook her head, mumbling something in Spanish. Chuckling, I took the time to scan the eclectic crowd, everyone seemingly in a good mood. At least I was able to hear music from my aunt’s flat, the balcony of the rather tiny apartment my favorite spot in the cramped space. Being in Spain was a far cry from what I was used to back home.

  When Angelina returned, she pushed a folded piece of paper across the counter. “Here. Reason for you to come out tonight.”

  “Ugh. Do I want to know?” I hadn’t told anyone, including my aunt, about the attack. While I chided myself for being skittish, going out at night still troubled me.

  As she took my credit card, she rolled her eyes. “More than a single reason, American girl. Music. Dancing. Drinking. Sex. Not necessarily in that order.”

  “Very funny, Angelina.”

  “And I am not kidding.”

  I glared at her, unable to keep a smile off my face. After the transaction was complete, I was prepared to slip out as another crowd came rushing when she stormed from around the counter, shoving the paper into my purse.

  “You will thank me later. Trust me.” Angelina gave me a pouting look, shaking her head.

  I waved her off even though my curiosity was piqued.

  “Dress like the sexy girl you are, Savannah. You need to enjoy yourself while you’re here,” she continued, her words said loudly enough several people glanced in my direction.

  I’d never felt so damn uncomfortable in my life.

  Nope. It wasn’t going to happen.

  “One look. For me,” she insisted.

  I rolled my eyes, allowing my curiosity to get the better of me.

  I wasn’t the kind of girl to find a model attractive, even with his dazzling eyes, chiseled features, and perfectly white teeth. I preferred men who were rugged in every manner, the kind of rough and tumble guy you expected leading a cattle drive. Usually, the combination was a figment of my imagination. When I opened the paper, I was surprised that the face staring back at me fit the criteria from my imagination almost perfectly.

  He had dark curly hair that seemed to kiss the top of his shoulders, so luxurious that I longed to run my fingers through his thick strands. He sat on the corner of a table, his legs trapped in tight jeans hugging every inch of his muscular frame. Even the crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, was sexy as hell. He exuded power, a man comfortable in his own skin, the kind that grabbed the attention of every person when he walked into a room. But his eyes were the dead giveaway to his soul. I’d never seen such intense cobalt blue eyes in my life, his expression piercing. I pressed the back
of my hand across my mouth to keep from moaning.

  I pulled the picture closer, studying one side of his face. While the lighting used had been dim, I could swear he had a scar running down the length of one of his cheeks. In truth, it added to his allure. A mysterious man with a dubious past. Maybe I’d been reading too many romance novels.

  Still, his name alone invoked a tremendous pull on every ounce of my being, an odd combination of electricity and adrenaline flowing to the point my throat felt constricted.

  Rafael...

  After a few seconds, I hissed, jerking back and tossing the paper into the trash. First of all, I knew better than to think the guy was that gorgeous. No man was. Second, his blue eyes were a product of the printer used and nothing more. And most important, I wasn’t here to fall into some wicked tryst with a guy who might pretend to give a damn.

  For a night or two.

  “Nice try, Angelina.”

  “He will be here for only two nights. Two sultry nights reeking of passion. Imagine the possibilities.”

  Snorting, I walked away, grateful as well as shocked that a customer had walked in. Passion. The word was starting to irritate the hell out of me.

  Tonight, I’d work on cleaning up the accounting package while drinking wine. Then I’d figure out some marketing material.

  Why don’t you clean the flat for the fifth time while you’re at it?

  I shook away the inner voice.

  Forget the sexy godlike creature.

  Forget the fantasy.

  Forget the fact I was aroused at the possibilities.

  But you love taking risks...

  I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. I’d taken far too many risks as it was. I refused to place myself in any kind of additional danger.

  The sexy godlike creature could find another girl to play with.

  Damn it.

  Chapter Five

  Savannah

  Risks.

  No risk, no reward.

  The ridiculous mantra had nagged at me all afternoon.

  “You are fucking out of your mind,” I told my reflection, pointing my finger and making a face as I stared down at the dress I’d grabbed from the closet after finally deciding to have a drink. I had no idea why I was bothering at this late hour other than I felt cooped up, the long days keeping me tense. I turned back and forth, brushing my hands down from my bodice to my hips. At least the material highlighted my curves.

  Maybe too much.

  I reached for my wine, able to hear music coming from another location, adding to the festiveness of the atmosphere. I walked toward the open doors, leaning against the doorframe. Coming here had been a godsend in several ways, freeing me from the daily reminders that had forbidden me to live my life. However, if I was to let go of the demons, I’d have to break free of the padlocked cage I’d placed around myself for protection. Walking a few blocks to a café where I’d been a solid eight times was an easy task.

  Or so I hoped.

  Shuddering, I took several sips of wine, loathing my uncertainty. I’d never been that way before about anything. I was a tough girl, but this trip was challenging in several ways. Perhaps my aunt knew I’d needed a change. I gulped the remainder of the wine before grabbing my keys.

  A night out would clear my mind.

  I heard a rumble of thunder as I reached for my purse, the burst of lightning crisscrossing the sky breathtaking in a disconcerting manner.

  The wind was brisk, the smell of approaching rain invigorating as I walked. While I normally adored a thunderstorm, the thought of being caught in a soaking rain was not on my bucket list. The closer I came to the café, the more intoxicating the music, the sound of the acoustic guitar managing to create sweet vibrations dancing all the way to my pussy. As I walked past the windows, I found myself searching for the musician responsible for the beautiful, sultry strains, my eyes hungering to see his face. Sadly, the place was packed, forcing me to walk inside.

  The atmosphere was entirely different than during lunch hours, the darkness comforting. There were candles lit on every table, the bar nestled against the back wall illuminated by shimmering blue LED lights. The location was far more appealing than I would have imagined. Even the sound system was top quality.

  I pushed my way through the groups of people, surprised to find a spot at the bar only twenty feet from the makeshift stage. As I sat down, my eyes were drawn to the musician. From what I could tell, the photocopied sheet of paper hadn’t told a lie.

  The man was gorgeous, the simple cotton shirt and jeans unable to hide his stunning physique, chest muscles outlined as if carved into the thin material. The scar on his face was real, although even in the shimmering blue light on the stage, the jagged cut seemed sexy as hell. My gaze fell to the bulge between his legs as well as the tight muscles of his thighs. While I was drawn to his appearance, his voice was just as incredible, so deep that I had to strain to hear the vocals, even though I could understand only a few words.

  “He’s pretty hot, eh?”

  I hadn’t expected to see Angelica. Her ribbing created a wave of heat building from my neck to my cheeks. Thank God it was dark in the place or the embarrassment would be too much. As I shifted on the barstool, I noticed the mischievous look on her face. This was nothing more than a setup. I leaned over the bar, wagging my finger. “He’s not my type.”

  “You Americans are all alike. Wine?”

  “Merlot. Meaning?”

  She grabbed a wineglass, coming close to slamming it on the surface before selecting a bottle of wine, pouring until several dark red strings slipped over the rim. I’d obviously purchased one too many bottles of wine from the café. “Meaning that you have no comprehension of fun.” She lifted a single eyebrow before sliding the glass in my direction.

  “I’m fun. As a matter of fact, I’m one hell of a party girl,” I said, wrinkling my nose before laughing.

  “Then you must learn the customs of Galicia. Enjoy yourself,” she insisted, raising her arms as she shifted toward the crowd, jazzing several of the men sitting at the bar. She pivoted her attention back in my direction, parking her elbows on top of the bar. “Seriously, Savannah. I understand why you are here but learn to have a little fun in doing so. Life is very short, you know.”

  For the first time the light in her eyes seemed to dim, as if her past had been a difficult as mine. “True. Life is very short.”

  Angelina sighed then almost immediately flashed her usual happy smile. “From what I know, he’s sin-gle.”

  I sighed as she gave me a fake pouty look. “Okay, fine. Who is he anyway?”

  “Rafael,” Angelica purred, elongating the syllables.

  “I already know that. But who is he?”

  “A star,” she huffed, pushing the wine in my direction and nodding toward the musician.

  I gave her a stern look as I twirled my glass. “With no last name. Right? Just... Rafael. I can see his name in the lights on Broadway now.” She seemed confused, as if she’d never heard of Broadway.

  “I don’t know him, but the owner of the café says he comes highly recommended. If you do not believe me, just watch. See how he ignites the crowd. He gave a preview when he asked for the job and blew the lunch crowd away. Sadly, he’s on the last set for the night. At least there’s tomorrow night.”

  The woman was as infuriating as she was entertaining. Growling on purpose, I took my time before turning to face the singer. I was disgusted seeing the way several of the women seated closest were nearly crawling onto the stage. I envisioned one or more of them would remove their panties in a slow and provocative manner, winding the bright red or shameless purple lace thong around their index finger before tossing it in his direction.

  Even their catcalls and whistles helped a lump form in my throat. I sat quietly as he strummed the guitar, his fingers moving rapidly over the frets. He was a brilliant musician, a master of the instrument and all done with such ease. His eyes were closed, his long eyelashes fr
aming an aristocratic face, his strong jawbone suggestive of Greek god mythology. Even the shadow of the two- or three-day stubble added to his rugged appearance.

  I listened intently, immediately mesmerized by his talent. The melodic tune was fulfilling in every manner, causing a shimmer of vibrations dancing down my spine.

  I found myself leaning forward, attempting to catch every nuance. When he lowered his head, taking a deep breath, the crowd went wild.

  “Un soplo del sol,” he half whispered, the gravelly tone in his voice creating a wave of heat between my legs. His fingers seemed to be caressing the strings, gliding over them with such ease.

  “A breath of sunshine,” Angelica purred in repeat of his comment, her face close enough I could feel her breath floating against my neck.

  I shifted, re-crossing one leg over the other. I had no idea why the hell she was pushing me so hard with this man. She and I weren’t best buddies even though we talked on a daily basis. I was far too private as well as untrusting to share almost any aspect of my life.

  “El aliento de mi vida,” he continued. His eyes were half closed and the way he leaned forward on the stool was far too seductive.

  “My breath of life.” Angelina chuckled darkly after interpreting the words. “I think his words are chilling, don’t you? You two would make a beautiful couple.”

  “Es un hombre perfecto pero no me interesa,” I stated with defiance only after the song had ended, my voice loud enough the words floated several feet in front of me.

  I winced from Angelica’s deep-throated laugh as she backed away. Rafael had obviously heard what I’d exclaimed, his amused expression only adding to my utter humiliation. I felt the weight of his gaze as it shifted toward me, unable to yank myself away from watching his every move. Even in the shadowed light, his penetrating eyes were almost overwhelming, the darkness within them paralyzing, as if he had no soul. Yet they remained hypnotizing, drawing me in deeper and deeper into his lonely world, one where even the slightest fraction of light had trouble reaching.