Hold You Close

by Jessica Linden

“Thank you.” She seemed pleased. “I like to bake, but I’m not much of a cook. I can follow directions, though. I found the recipe on Pinterest this afternoon.”

  Silence stretched on as they ate, but it was comfortable. Neither felt the need to fill the dead air with pointless chatter. Thank God. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat in comfortable silence with another human being. Probably not since before his brother left.

  Damn if Marco didn’t piss him off, but he missed the guy, too.

  When they were done eating, Tony cleared their plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. Then he turned his attention to the pots and pans.

  Ginny jumped up. “I’ll do that.”

  Tony took her by the shoulders when she came into the kitchen. “No, you cooked, so I’ll clean up.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head, turned her around, and gave her a gentle push toward the living room.

  Ten minutes later when he walked into the room to join her, she had her planner spread on her lap with a frown and was so engrossed in it, she didn’t notice him come in. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, observing her. With one hand she played with her hair. The other trailed over the planner pages. When she sighed and bit her lower lip, he almost groaned as hunger stirred—a hunger only she could satisfy.

  She was so fucking sexy and she didn’t seem to have any clue what she was doing to him.

  She looked up and blinked when she saw him standing there. She grimaced. “This is probably the worst time for me to be out from work. I don’t know if my dad can handle things.”

  Tony could sympathize about father troubles when it came to work. Old money families generally had built-in jobs, but sometimes working with family could be more trouble than it was worth.

  He took a seat on the couch next to her. “He handled it all for the past few decades.”

  “Exactly. And the company is almost bankrupt. It’s a struggle to make payroll every week.”

  Tony grimaced. He hadn’t realized how far Daniel Frazier had let the company slip. Ginny’s father was kindhearted but not shrewd when it came to business.

  “I didn’t think you had an interest in business.”

  “I don’t. But my dad needed help and the company couldn’t afford to hire someone, so . . .” She let him fill in the blanks. Ginny was devoted to her family, even when some of them didn’t deserve her devotion. He noticed Veronica hadn’t lifted a damn finger and no one had expected her to.

  “I can’t judge,” Tony said, thinking of his own situation. “I hadn’t planned on working for Adamo, either, but when Marco left, I didn’t have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” Ginny said.

  He slanted his eyes at her. “Really? Then why are you single-handedly trying to save your family’s company, even though you’re miserable doing it?”

  She laughed. “Well, that’s the choice, isn’t it? What my family needs or what I want. Some people might choose themselves over family. I think it says a lot about you that you joined Adamo even though you hadn’t planned to.”

  “If it weren’t for Nonno, I would have told my father to go to hell. But I couldn’t let Nonno’s legacy go.”

  “I take it you and your father still don’t get along.”

  “You could say that.”

  Tony’s hands automatically clenched into fists when he thought about that man, as they always did. Even when he’d been a small child, he’d butted heads with his father. Marco wasn’t fond of their father, either, but he played the game better and was able to hide it. Tony hadn’t been able to, and even if he had, he probably wouldn’t. Faking wasn’t his style.

  Ginny was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Tony said. “I actually like the work. We have some valuable employees and I believe in the Adamo mission. So I have to work with my father. No job is perfect.”

  “True.” Ginny closed her planner and put it on the end table. “I can’t think about this now. There’s not a lot I can do without a company laptop, anyway.”

  “We can make arrangements to get you one.”

  “No, I don’t want to give away where I’m staying. Besides, I don’t think I’d be able to focus on work right now.”

  “And you shouldn’t. You need to relax and recover for a while.”

  “For tonight,” she said, stifling a yawn. “But tomorrow, I need to start figuring things out.”

  “We,” Tony corrected.

  “I don’t want you any more involved than you already are. Fedor is dangerous.”

  So am I.

  “I can handle him,” Tony said.

  Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not only him, Tony. I don’t think you realize—”

  “I know exactly what I’m dealing with.” Tony’s tone was dark, serious. “Trust me when I say I’m ready to handle it.”

  Ginny looked uncertain, but she didn’t argue with him about it anymore. She might think Tony didn’t understand what they were dealing with, but really it was Ginny who didn’t understand.

  She didn’t understand what lengths Tony would go to in order to protect her, to keep her safe, to make her his. He would do whatever it took.

  Chapter 15

  When Ginny peeled open her eyes the next morning, she looked at the clock and gasped. It was nearly nine. She’d overslept again.

  Though it’s not like she had a schedule. So what did it matter? Obviously, she needed the rest. She just wasn’t used to staying in bed so long. She was usually an early riser, either to get to work or go for a morning run.

  She quickly brushed her teeth and slipped on yesterday’s yoga pants under her borrowed T-shirt. Tony had done an excellent job gathering her things, but she hadn’t thought to mention pajamas and he didn’t think of it, either. So she was stuck sleeping in his shirts.

  It was hardly a sacrifice, although it did make it hard to fall asleep, no matter how tired she was. The soft cotton smelled faintly of him, and as it brushed against her skin she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have his hands on her skin instead.

  The fantasies had run through her mind, making her so sexually frustrated she was tempted to touch herself to take care of things. But with Tony just on the other side of the wall, she held off.

  She headed in the direction of the kitchen in search of coffee to satisfy at least one of her cravings.

  She rounded the corner and stopped short. Tony was sitting at the counter, working on his laptop. He was shirtless, only wearing pajama pants.

  His back was breathtaking. Broad shoulders. Smooth tan skin stretching over muscles that rippled slightly as he moved.

  He stretched his arms above his head, and Ginny licked her lips just as he turned and noticed her.

  Oh, God, had he seen her salivating over him like a damn dog in heat?

  “Good morning.” He stood and turned, revealing an equally awe-inspiring chest. Well-defined pecs covered with a sprinkling of dark hair. Ab muscles that went on for days. Was that an eight pack? How was that even possible?

  His nipples were hard, surrounded by goosebumps. Was it cold in here? She felt like she was on fire.

  His pajamas pants rode low on his hips, revealing a cut V muscle that led down to—

  She looked away, wishing she’d given in and taken care of herself last night. Then maybe she wouldn’t embarrass herself by gawking. For God’s sake, if wasn’t as if she’d never seen a man’s chest before.

  But she hadn’t seen Tony’s—not like this.

  She could tell he was in shape by how his clothes fit him, but that didn’t prepare her for Tony in his bare-chested grandeur.

  “I just need—” She pointed to the coffee pot and scooted past him, trying unsuccessfully to avert her eyes. She might as well just give up and announce that she wanted him. Her behavior had pretty much done that already anyway.

  He leaned on the counter, which only further accentuated his should
ers. “I didn’t want to wake you. Otherwise I would have brought you some.”

  She poured the coffee into a mug that was waiting for her on the counter. Wrapping her hands around the mug, she inhaled the smell of the warm liquid, both comforting and invigorating at the same time.

  “No need,” she said, still focused on the coffee. “I can get my own.”

  She took a sip, grateful Tony preferred his coffee the same way she did—strong and black. It was one more thing she and Tony shared.

  As the caffeine made its way into her bloodstream, she settled a bit. Feeling braver, she looked up at Tony.

  Bad decision. His intense gaze was focused on her, and her attention turned to his mouth—full lips that looked soft and kissable.

  And they were—she’d had the pleasure. And damn, she wanted it again.

  Fuck. Maybe turning to Tony was a bad idea after all. She was physically safe, but her heart was more in danger than ever.

  Her falling for Tony wasn’t necessarily a problem—it was the timing. As per the usual with the two of them, it was awful. How could she even consider starting something with him when her engagement ring still lay on the floor behind the TV where she’d thrown it? Her life was a disaster.

  “I’m going to go shower, if that’s okay,” Tony said.

  “Of course,” she said. When he left the kitchen, she sighed with relief.

  Pull yourself together, woman!

  She’d never been one to lose her cool when it came to guys. Even as a teenager in high school when her friends were mooning over their latest crush, she stayed level-headed. Perhaps it was this level-headed view that allowed her to think she’d be able to handle the arrangement with Fedor.

  What a joke.

  Her decision to go along with that didn’t mean she was level-headed. It meant she’d been out of her mind.

  With Tony, though, things were different. She was different. Always had been. Her level-headed nature she prided herself on went right out the window. How else could she explain the feelings she’d developed for him when he was still with her sister?

  She heard the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom and immediately visualized water droplets running down Tony’s shoulders and chest. She forced herself to turn that part of her brain off. Imagining Tony in the shower would not help matters, even if it was immensely satisfying.

  She should keep herself busy. That would help. The dishwasher needed to be emptied, so she would do that. As she pulled the clean dishes out, she noticed there were no dirty ones in the sink. Tony had run the dishwasher last night, so that meant he hadn’t had breakfast.

  She finished with the dishes and pulled the eggs she’d used yesterday for the cookies out of the refrigerator, along with the mushrooms. A little searching turned up cheese and onions. Perfect. She’d make omelets.

  As she diced the vegetables, she thought about Veronica and how to approach her. Definitely in person. It wasn’t the sort of topic that could be discussed over the phone. Besides that, she’d have an easier time determining if Veronica was lying if they were face-to-face.

  It was disheartening that it had come down to this.

  Ginny had been so focused on protecting her sister and she didn’t even know if Veronica was guilty of the crime she’d been accused of. She’d stubbornly decided it didn’t matter—if the information leaked, Veronica would be ruined either way. So she hadn’t bothered to find out the truth. If it was true, Veronica must have had a good reason, right? So it wasn’t important.

  Except it was important. Ginny had been one step away from ruining her own life, and for what? A sister who didn’t give two shits about her?

  Ginny squeezed the knife handle as tears blurred her vision.

  No, that wasn’t fair. Veronica did care. Beneath her prickly exterior, her sister had a heart. Ginny refused to believe otherwise.

  Even if she was the only one.

  * * *

  Tony stepped out of the bathroom to the welcome smell of eggs cooking and his stomach growled in response. Barefoot, he padded into the kitchen to find Ginny flipping an omelet on the stove.

  He could totally get used to this, and he meant that in a nonsexist way. Normally, none of this domestic shit appealed to him, but with Ginny it worked. Hell, he couldn’t think of a situation that wouldn’t work with him and Ginny. He just wanted to be with her—no matter the circumstances. He’d take her however he could get her.

  He pulled out his phone to check for messages, even though it was too early for Phil to call. The package probably hadn’t even arrived yet. And Phil might have other priorities—he might not get to examining Tony’s pill right away. But for Tony, so much was riding on what Phil could tell him about that one little pill.

  That one little pill could tear apart the company his grandfather had worked so hard to build.

  There were no messages from his father, either. Normally that would be a blessing. Now, though, it had Tony worried. His father normally rode his ass and definitely would have something to say about him taking off a whole week unexpectedly. The fact that he hadn’t bothered to call . . . well, that could only mean he was busy with other things.

  Like B37.

  Hell, if his father had any idea he was snooping around, he’d welcome Tony’s absence.

  Ginny glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him before turning her attention back to the stove. “I hope you like eggs.”

  Her smile was warm and easy—no pretenses. He wanted to walked up behind her and pull her back against him, to lift her hair off her shoulders and nuzzle the delicate skin of her throat.

  Instead, he leaned against the wall, continuing to admire her. “You’re a dream, you know that?”

  Ginny let out a little giggle, then quickly cleared her throat as a blush rose to her cheeks. He grinned. The Adamo boys were known for their charm. Tony hadn’t bothered tapping into it for a while, but he was glad to see he still had it.

  Because he intended to charm the hell out of the sweet little thing in his kitchen.

  Today she wore pants under his T-shirt, much to his disappointment. He preferred her wearing his shirt and only his shirt.

  Actually, he’d prefer if she wore nothing, but that wasn’t prudent for cooking.

  He used the opportunity of her being distracted to examine her face. Her injuries were healing well, quicker than he expected. Good. The evidence of Barkov’s fists on her couldn’t be erased fast enough.

  Barkov wouldn’t be so lucky. Tony had no tolerance as it was for a man who raised his hand to a woman or child, and he’d been waiting for an excuse to beat the shit out of Barkov ever since he learned Ginny was engaged to him. That by itself was reason enough. Now that he’d used his fists on her, Barkov would be lucky to survive the beating that was coming for him.

  Powerful or not, Barkov was going down.

  Last night, Tony had retrieved the ring that Ginny had hurled across the room. He wasn’t a jewelry expert, but he knew enough to know it was expensive as fuck, and needlessly so. Barkov was such a pompous asshole. Ginny didn’t even like flashy things. But Tony figured she’d want the damn thing back at some point—either to sell or shove down Barkov’s throat.

  It would be his pleasure to facilitate the latter for her.

  Tony crossed the kitchen to stand dangerously close to Ginny as he reached into a cabinet near the stove. He caught the scent of her shampoo—honeysuckle.

  His gut tightened. God, it was torture being so close to her and not touching her, not pulling her body against his.

  His thighs brushed up against her hips. Her body stilled and she cleared her throat, her fingers going up to toy with her hair.

  Good to know it wasn’t just him. Before, at the charity gala, when he’d cleaned her foot and they’d kissed, the heat between them had been combustible, their chemistry explosive.

  He wanted to feel that again—to feel her lips on his, her tongue mixing with his.

  He wasn’t going to pursue her u
ntil she’d fully healed, but he was relieved to see the spark between them was still ignited.

  He retrieved a bottle of hot sauce and the second he moved away to sit at the counter Ginny resumed her cooking activities. Tony hid his grin.

  Despite the circumstances, he was enjoying having her in his space.

  * * *

  “Oh, no.” Ginny put a hand over her mouth as she listened to the message. She prayed she’d heard it wrong.

  “What is it?” Tony looked up from his laptop. After breakfast, he’d settled on one end of the couch to work while Ginny curled up on the other end with her paperback.

  It had been relaxing and felt good to share a leisurely morning with Tony. For a few moments, she’d been able to forget about the mess in her life. But now that Ginny had checked her phone messages, the illusion was shattered, reality raining down on her again. The ever-present churning in her stomach returned.

  “Fedor stopped by my friend’s house. Or maybe it was one of Fedor’s men. The message was a little unclear.” Ginny frowned. “Becca and I don’t talk very much anymore. We drifted apart after she got married and had the twins.”

  “What did he want?” Tony set the laptop aside and slid closer to her, ready for action. She knew it was killing him to refrain from going after Fedor. Ginny didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to restrain him. Fedor was a well-protected man. That was one of the things he’d promised—that she would be protected. She’d wondered what she needed protection from.

  And now she knew—him.

  “Whoever it was wanted to know where I was.” Ginny shook her head, her hands fisting. “I don’t like this.”

  If anything happened to her friend or those kids . . .

  Surely, Fedor wouldn’t harm children. The man had to have some scruples, right? Her worry was clouding her judgment. God, she hoped so.

  “I don’t think there’s any cause for alarm. He has no reason to hurt her.” Tony’s tone was reassuring, but skepticism clouded his eyes.

  “If he knows I’m hiding from him, why would he think I’d turn to someone he knows about?” She wasn’t stupid. Well, not about that, anyway. She’d agreed to the engagement, which definitely put her intelligence level in question.