Nico

by Sarah Castille

  Kat crouched beside Big Joe as he pushed to kneeling in the sand. “Are you okay?”

  “Kat, sweetheart.” Big Joe stroked her cheek. “What are you doing here?”

  “Saving you. Mia hacked Nico’s phone so it wasn’t hard to find him.”

  “Christ.” Nico pulled out his phone and glared at it in disgust. “That’s what I get for marrying a hacker.”

  “There is no saving me,” Big Joe said.

  “Don’t do this.” Kat stood in front of Big Joe, and for a moment Nico was back in Luigi’s Restaurant ten years ago when another dark-haired girl begged for another man’s life.

  “Please. He’s a good man, Nico. He has a daughter. He was just doing his job. Let him go.”

  Nico sighed. He had done this to himself. He had married into a family of strong women. The pain was just beginning.

  “You don’t need to beg for him.” Nico motioned for Big Joe to stand. “I’m giving him a pass. He saved my life and the life of one of my men. I owe him a debt.” He turned to Big Joe. “Consider it paid.”

  Big Joe stood, his brow creased in a frown. “Then what’s all this?”

  “I couldn’t let you just walk away without sweating a little.” Nico grinned. “I have a reputation to protect. But I wasn’t expecting you to be so stoic about it. We were hoping for a bit of a show. Maybe a few tears, begging, calling for your mama.”

  “Jesus Christ, you’re a bastard.” Big Joe leaned against the vehicle and took a deep breath. “I almost pissed myself.”

  “That would have been entertaining.” Nico kicked at the sand beneath his feet. “I might embellish it a bit for Luca when he gets out of hospital. Especially since you’re going to have to hitch a ride out of Nevada and it would make him laugh to think of you sitting in your piss in some trucker’s cab.” His voice dropped low with regret. He’d miss Big Joe. Couldn’t imagine the crew without him. “You know you can’t come back.”

  “He doesn’t have to hitch a ride. He has me.” Kat’s hands found her hips and she glared at Nico. He couldn’t believe how much she’d changed in such a short period of time. Gone was the soft, gentle kitten and in its place was a lioness just learning to use her claws. He hadn’t told Mia about his plans for Big Joe, but now that Kat had got wind of them, he could just imagine her reaction.

  And he could imagine just what he would do to calm his little tiger down.

  “So this is good-bye.” Big Joe shook Nico’s hand. “I meant it when I said it was an honor.”

  Emotion welled up in Nico’s chest. This was the part of the business he didn’t enjoy. When the political became personal. When he lost a friend.

  “If you ever stop being a cop, you know where to find me.” Nico pulled open his door.

  “If you ever stop being a wiseguy…” Big Joe shook his head. “Nah. It will never happen. You were born to be a wiseguy.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Act like a Mafia wife …

  … with a punk-rock attitude.

  Mia swept past the security guards and into the high-stakes room at the Casino Italia, her high heels clicking firmly on the newly tiled floor. The police had come quickly after the 911 call, but not quickly enough. They had found only Vito’s body, shot by an undercover officer in the line of duty, alongside an innocent guest, Luca, in the high-stakes room. Eyewitness, and consummate actress, Kat Cordano, explained she had been gaming alone with Luca when crazy Vito burst in and started shooting unprovoked after ordering the cameras turned off.

  Dante’s body was “found” in a burned-out car in the desert the next day, his death reported as fallout from the civil war between Mafia families. Although Mia couldn’t forgive his crimes, she was glad that Dante had at least found peace, and she remembered him for the fun-loving brother he used to be.

  She spotted Nico right away, sitting on the far side of a blackjack table. She studied him for a moment, intensely aware of the strength hidden behind that tailored suit, the power he now wielded as the boss of a new family faction, the fearlessness with which he had entered the war with Tony and his crew.

  As if he knew she was watching, he looked up. His lazy gaze drifted over her body, taking in her vintage 1950’s Paul Sachs black tuxedo lace cocktail dress, a little punk rock with a nod to Mafia-wife style. Since she couldn’t wear her long socks with heels, she’d gone for stockings with a lacy garter belt that had tiny skulls stitched into the fabric, and chains instead of garters. She’d never worn lingerie for Nico before, but she suspected he’d appreciate her style.

  Nico gestured for Mia to join him at the table. “You look very nice, bella.”

  “If you’d told me where we were going, I would have had a better idea how to dress.” She checked out the cards in his hand and the bets that had been placed.

  “You are perfect.” He gestured to his stack of chips. “Bet.”

  Her lips quivered at the corners, and she pushed all his chips forward. “Go big or go home.”

  “I like a woman who’s not afraid to take a risk.”

  She leaned over and pressed her lips to his ear. “I’ve taken much bigger risks than that.”

  Nico gave a soft growl of approval and put his arm around her waist, his thumb stroking in and out of her curves. Her hand tensed, ready in case he dived beneath her skirt and found the surprise waiting for him under the crinoline layer.

  The dealer dealt him a seven. His up card was nine. Mia grimaced. Sixteen was too low to stand on but if he hit he’d probably bust. Nico’s fingers skirted the edge of her dress and she gently slapped his hand away.

  “This game is about emotional control,” he said, frowning at being denied the opportunity to feel her up in public. “Although around you, I find it a particular challenge.” He tapped the table and got a five.

  “Very nice, sir.” The dealer counted out a huge stack of chips, and Nico waved for him to keep them.

  The dealer smiled and retrieved the chips. “Much obliged, Mr. Toscani.”

  “You don’t want all your money?” Mia looked back over her shoulder as Nico led her away from the table.

  “I’ve got something worth much more.” He guided her through the casino, pointing out the new improvements he was testing for his refurbishment of the Desert Dream Hotel. He opened the elevator with his key card, and moments later they were on the tenth floor.

  “I thought we were going out.” She looked around the newly decorated office, so different from the first time she was here. Dark wood, rich leather, and thick cream Berber carpet had replaced the cold, functional décor, and the walls were now a colorful mix of posters from old gangster movies and photographs from the days when the Mafia ruled the Strip.

  “We’re staying in.” After closing the door, he settled in the leather chair behind his new reclaimed oak desk.

  “Why did you ask me to dress up? I could have come straight from work. I had to leave Jules in charge so I could go home early and change.”

  A slow, sensual smile spread across his face. “I’ve been imagining this moment since the first time you walked into my office. The things I wanted to do to you that night, bella…” He licked his lips like a predator about to feast. “I want it all. Now.”

  “You want that night over again?”

  “Yes, but this time you won’t be walking out the door.”

  She shivered in delicious anticipation at the wicked look in his eyes. Oh yeah. She was fully on board with his plan.

  “Sit.” He gestured to the chair in front of her, his tone laced with the same hint of command she’d heard that very first night.

  Mia pressed her lips together, trying to remember how their first encounter had played out. “I prefer to stand.”

  Nico expressed his displeasure with a scowl. “Sit,” he said curtly. “Or I’ll make you sit.”

  “Are you trying to turn me on?”

  He fought back a bark of amusement. “That’s not what you said. I remember every word. You asked if I meant to break your no
se, and I told you it was too lovely to break.”

  “Is that meant to be a compliment?” She arched an eyebrow and put one hand on her hip, tugging up her dress just enough to give him a hint of what was hidden below. Although she didn’t let on, she remembered their conversation, too.

  Nico’s eyes widened and he sat forward in his chair. “Do you want compliments?”

  “I want to give you this.” She put her leg up on the chair nearest the door, and pulled back the dress to reveal her stocking, and the garter decorated with skulls and chains.

  He drew in a ragged breath. “This is supposed to be my fantasy, bella. You’re making it hard for me to stay in my chair.”

  “My apologies, Mr. Toscani.” She slid her finger inside one of the garter straps, tugging on the little chain. “I didn’t mean to make it … hard.”

  “Over here.” He slapped his hand on the desk. “Now.”

  “Tsk. Tsk,” she teased. “That’s not how to play the game. I think you asked about my family next. And Luigi’s.” She regretted the words as they dropped from her lips, worried she had ruined the game by bringing up such a painful memory.

  Nico came around the desk and perched on the edge. “I made the mistake of thinking you weren’t capable because you were a Cordano and a woman. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

  Mia walked toward him, working the heels and the dress until his mouth went slack. “Was that before or after I cupped my breasts and told you about stabbing your guard? Did you know I was incredibly turned on?” She paused for effect, loving the power she had right now. “Did you know I was wet? So wet. When I went home…” She trailed her fingers down her neck to the curve of her breast. “Well, I’m sure you can imagine.”

  His eyes blazed and he reached for her, only to swipe at the air when she stopped a few feet away. “I was so fucking hard I couldn’t think. I told you a man couldn’t be distracted, but you were the most distracting woman I’d ever met.”

  She stepped between his parted legs, the way she had done before. Electricity crackled between them, and she gave him a mischievous smile. “So you’re saying…” She dropped her hand and cupped his erection, straining beneath the fabric of his fine wool pants. “When I dropped my hand that night, you wanted me to touch you like this?”

  Nico growled, a low rumble that made her stomach tight with need. He curled his hand around her neck, and yanked her close, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. Not wanting to give in so soon, she dragged her palm along his shaft, feeling it harden with each firm stroke.

  “Yes, you did.” She flicked her tongue along his earlobe and crooned. “You wanted me, Mr. Mob Boss. You wanted my hand stroking your cock. You wanted me on your desk, my dress hiked up, my panties gone, my pussy hot and wet—”

  Before she even realized he had moved, Nico had her flat on her back on his desk, her skirt pushed up to bare her sexy skull garters.

  “Dio mio.” He traced his finger along the edge of her garters, and then his hand tightened around her thigh like he was struggling to restrain himself. “You might just break me, yet.”

  “Then break.” She pushed herself up on her elbows. “Here I am. Your fantasy come true.”

  He pounced, roughly pushing her panties aside. With a low growl of satisfaction, he slicked one finger through her labia, sending an exquisite shudder through her body. “Make no mistake. That part of my fantasy will come true tonight. I will have you on this desk in every possible way. But that comes after.”

  “After what?”

  He pulled her up to sit, and she gave a disappointed moan.

  “Shhh. You are entirely too sexy, too distracting. And tonight I have something I need to do.” He settled her on the edge of his desk and smoothed down her dress. From his pocket, he pulled out a small black velvet box and then he went down on one knee.

  Emotion welled up in Mia’s chest. “You don’t need to do this. We’re already married. Elvis said so.”

  “You are worth so much more than a quickie elopement ceremony, cara mia.” He opened the box. “I want to do it again. Properly. When the words I say come from the heart.

  Mia stared at the beautiful ring, platinum, with a black diamond in the center and two pink diamonds on the side, held in a punk-style setting. “If I had to design a ring, this would be it. This is me.”

  “I saw you the first time we met. And you saw me.” He took the ring from the box. “Ti adoro, Mia. Ti amo. Make me the happiest man in the world by becoming my wife.”

  “Yes.” She whispered the word without hesitation. If anyone had told her six weeks ago that she would wind up in a mobster’s arms, tied to the life she’d fought so hard to escape, she wouldn’t have believed them. But love made all the difference.

  He slid the ring on her finger and stood, sweeping her into his arms for a smoldering kiss.

  Mia melted against the heat and strength of his body. “I’d like three Elvises this time, two bottles of vodka, and a nice, long religious ceremony so I can watch you struggle with your self-control. And I would still like to consummate our marriage in the restroom at Red 27.”

  Nico chuckled. “Anything you want.”

  “Anything?” She looked up at him, at his tender expression, the softness in his eyes.

  “Yes.” He tightened his arms around her. “I will give you anything. My body. My heart. My soul. Everything I have, everything I am, is yours.”

  “I want forever,” she whispered.

  “Cara mia.” He brushed her lips with a gentle kiss. “You already have forever. I gave it to you the first time I held you in my arms.”

  Read on for an excerpt from the next book by

  Sarah Castille

  LUCA

  Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks

  It started out like any other day in Vegas.

  Luca rolled out of bed at noon, showered and shaved. There was nothing more important for a Mafia capo than la bella figura—looking good in the eyes of society. Once his knives were strapped to his body, he dressed in a new Italian wool suit, crisp white shirt, and red silk tie. He holstered two Glocks across his chest, an S&W500 and a Ruger GP100 around his waist, and a Walther P22 beside the knife on his ankle just above his Salvatore Ferragamo shoes. After meticulously checking his appearance, he walked back into the bedroom, ready to start his day.

  That’s when things started to go wrong.

  First, the woman in his bed didn’t want to leave. When charm and soft smiles failed to encourage her departure, he had to yank the covers off the bed and toss her money on the dresser, shattering the illusion that she was anything other the high-class escort she pretended not to be. Luca always tipped well so her feigned indignation lasted only as long as it took her to count the cash and wobble her way out of his penthouse suite.

  After that, it had been one broken leg after another as he tried to call in a few business loans. The day had continued its downward slide when he had gone to collect protection money from a pawnshop on Las Vegas Boulevard only to discover that the Albanians had muscled in on his territory.

  Whacking Albanians was never a good way to break in a new suit, but the Toscani crime family didn’t waste time when there were lessons to be learned.

  Luca called up a couple of friends and they sent the Albanians back to their home country via the fiery pit of Hell.

  With their arms missing.

  And wearing cement shoes.

  The last part wasn’t his idea. But Frankie, the boss’s right-hand man, was a mean SOB who had been in the concrete pouring business before he joined the Toscani crew. Frankie never gave up the opportunity to practice his trade, even if the nearest body of water was thirty miles away.

  After he had changed his clothes, washed off the blood, and dropped off the suit at the dry cleaners, his day had gone from bad to worse.

  He made a mistake.

  Luca didn’t make mistakes.

  When Gina got pregnant after a one-night stand, he hadn
’t hesitated to do the right thing. After all, Gina ticked all the boxes for a desirable Mafia wife. She was a Mafia princess: pure Italian, well-versed in the culture, easy on the eye, and a good cook. Love wasn’t part of the Mafia marriage equation so he felt no guilt about spending Friday nights engaged in the extra-curricular activities expected of a senior Mafia capo. A wife was a symbol of status. A mistress was a symbol of power. Gina understood how things worked and as long as the money rolled in, she had no complaints. Life was good.

  And then she died.

  Luca had been totally unprepared for the emotional trauma of Gina’s death. Sure he cared for her, enjoyed spending some time with her, and they had an eighteen-month-old son, Matteo, together. But he hadn’t loved her, and the guilt of failing to protect his new wife, and knowing she’d died without truly being loved, had destroyed him. He’d sent Matteo to live with his mother, and tried to lose himself in his work for the family, taking on the most dangerous of assignments, regardless of the risk.

  Hence the mistake, which had led him to his current confinement.

  Gritting his teeth, he shifted in the uncomfortable hospital bed, biting back a groan as pain sliced through his chest. When Dante Cordano fired the bullet meant for Nico’s heart, Luca could have saved himself a whole a lot of pain if he’d worn a bulletproof vest. But sometimes, in the pit of despair, down was a hell of a lot more attractive than up.

  A pale yellow glow flickered in the doorway, and his pulse kicked up a notch.

  Nurse Rachel had visited him every night to give him pain relief of another kind. Even bruised and broken, his dignity ruffled by the continual poking and prodding of his person, he hadn’t had to put much effort into convincing the young nursing assistant to get down on her knees and wrap her plump lips around the only part of his body that didn’t ache.

  When the door opened, he smoothed down his blue shirt and adjusted his belt. With a constant stream of visitors coming to his room, he had made it clear to the medical staff that he would not suffer the indignity of a hospital gown. Every morning, he washed, shaved and dressed with the assistance of his sister, Angela, and then he held court from his hospital bed. His mother set up some folding tables against the wall and brought food every day to feed his guests, and to ensure he didn’t succumb to starvation. There was her food, or there was no food. That was her way.