Leon (Dance with the Devil 2)

by Carole Mortimer

  Her eyes widened. “The whole night?”

  “I happen to like morning sex as much as evening and night sex.” He liked sex anytime, Leon acknowledged ruefully, even if he hadn’t been with a woman for months.

  Carla swallowed. “No, I haven’t changed my mind.”

  He grimaced. “Carla— Oomph,” his words came to an abrupt halt the moment she pressed the softness of her lips against his. Lips that tasted of champagne and a nectar all Carla’s own.

  Carla had known that if anything was going to happen between her and Leon, then it had to be tonight. Grace had told her that her uncle and his full entourage were flying back to New York on his private jet some time tomorrow.

  Consequently, she had from now until tomorrow morning to find out just how powerful Leon truly was.

  Chapter Three

  She was totally aware of Leon’s leashed physical power as he took charge of the kiss, their bodies melding perfectly together as his lips devoured and claimed hers.

  Time and time again, until Carla had no breath left and her mind went blank. All she was able to feel was the devastation of those lips and the smooth movement of the muscles in his back and shoulders as she clung to him to stop herself from collapsing at his feet.

  Boss of all bosses, in or out of bed, Leon Brunelli was undeniably physically overwhelming.

  He continued that sensual onslaught of her mouth as his hands roamed restlessly along the length of her spine before settling on and possessively squeezing the twin curves of her bottom.

  Carla had been totally aware of Leon’s arousal as they danced together earlier, but the throb of his lengthy cock pressed against her now seemed even hotter and more urgent.

  Her throat arched as he broke the kiss so his lips could once again explore the length of her throat, allowing Carla to draw in a much-needed breath.

  She’d never been kissed by a man with a beard before. It was surprisingly soft, even erotic against the silky flesh of her throat, as a contrast to the firm questing of his lips.

  Leon grasped her hands in his to lift them high above her head and press the backs of them against the cold glass behind her. “You didn’t sound too sure earlier, so if you want to leave, now is the time. It’s a one-time offer,” he added with husky emphasis.

  It was hard for Carla to think with the heat of his breath a caress against her sensitized skin.

  She might not have a lot of experience other than Benny, the man she had thought she was going to marry, but neither was she a quivering virgin. Nor, despite Leon’s warning of this being a one-time opportunity to end this, did she believe he would force her into something she didn’t want if she changed her mind further into their lovemaking.

  Yes, he was known for being the ruthless head of the New York Mafia, but he was also a father and an uncle, and Carla had seen his indulgence with both Natalia and Grace.

  Perhaps she was being delusional, but she wanted to believe that indulgence extended to her.

  Besides, she wanted Leon to make love to her. To make love with her.

  She wanted it so badly, she felt lightheaded from the intensity of her heightened emotions.

  All of it due to Leon.

  Because Carla hadn’t so much as looked at another man with desire since Benny let her down so spectacularly.

  Why did thoughts of him have to keep intruding?

  Okay, she admitted she had looked at a few other men, because it was impossible not to appreciate how fine Matteo Zalotti was, along with all the Steele brothers.

  But she had never lusted after any of them the way she did Leon.

  From the moment she’d first set eyes on him, if she was being honest with herself.

  Maybe her taste in men had become a little warped in the past year? All she knew was, seeing Leon that day in the warehouse the previous month, witnessing the ease with which he totally ignored the gun being pointed at him, had been indescribably hot!

  He now lifted his head to look at her from between narrowed lids. “You’re taking a long time to decide whether to go or stay.” His voice betrayed no emotion either way.

  “I’m staying,” she answered without hesitation. “You—”

  “Oh for God’s sake, Papa, couldn’t you have taken this to the privacy of your own suite?”

  Carla gave a self-conscious squeak at the interruption, while Leon released her hands to turn and stand protectively in front of her.

  She quickly smoothed down her dress and hair before leaning slightly to the side to look around Leon.

  Natalia Brunelli strode confidently into the room, the six-inch heels on her sandals adding to her height of a little over five feet. Her long dark hair was loose down her back, black kohl and long lashes surrounding eyes as gray as her father’s. Her lips were painted a bright red to match her gown.

  She was wearing the same design of bridesmaid dress as Carla, but Carla was pretty sure the silky material didn’t hug her own curves quite as revealingly as they did Natalia’s more voluptuous figure.

  Natalia’s bodyguard, the stony-faced Killian Price, had followed her into the sitting room and now positioned himself beside the doorway.

  “Oh goody, more champagne!” Natalia threw her clutch bag down into one of the armchairs before pouring some of the open bottle of bubbly wine into another fluted glass. “Grace and Matteo have left on their honeymoon, so everyone is starting to drift away now.” She glanced at Carla. “She’s probably a little young for you, Papa, but don’t mind me,” she dismissed with a “carry on” wave of her hand. She dropped into one of the armchairs as indication she had no intention of going anywhere.

  Leon had never raised a hand to his only child in all her twenty years, and he had no intention of doing so now. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know Natalia was totally spoiled and deserved to have her ass spanked right now, and hard. From the look of impatience briefly revealed on Killian’s face, the other man agreed with him.

  Leon had never quite worked out the relationship between his daughter and her bodyguard. Natalia teased and tormented Killian while he stoically guarded her with his life, literally. Leon had no doubt that if the need should ever arise, Killian would take a bullet for Natalia without giving it so much as a second thought. But whether that was because it was his job or because he had feelings for Natalia, again Leon didn’t know. He had no more interest in learning anything about his daughter’s sex life than she did about his.

  None of which was of the least importance right now. Natalia’s interruption had broken the mood of intimacy, and Carla, having stepped to his side, looked decidedly uncomfortable. Despite her earlier choice to stay, she looked ready to run.

  He could insist Natalia went to her room, or he could invite Carla to his suite, but he doubted either woman was going to agree to one of those suggestions.

  “Rain check?” he prompted Carla softly.

  “You’re leaving tomorrow,” she reminded in the same quiet tone.

  “So I am,” he acknowledged with regret. “I could stay an extra day and night.”

  Carla grimaced. “I’m probably not worth rearranging all your plans for.”

  Leon scowled. Someone had hurt this woman badly, damaging her self-confidence in a way that made him want to wrap his hands tightly around someone’s throat and squeeze until they stopped breathing.

  He’d killed in the past, but it had always been with a gun, and only when he absolutely had to. This need he felt to physically strangle someone with his bare hands was totally new.

  Because, whoever that someone was had hurt Carla.

  “I think you are,” he murmured softly.

  “If you don’t go tomorrow, you’ll leave the day after that.” She shrugged. “Let’s just leave things as they are, hmm? We’re from different lifestyles and different countries. You’re also Grace’s uncle, and I’m her friend. It’s for the best if we don’t make things weird for the future.”

  “So what have you decided while whispering together o
ver there?” Natalia’s abrasive voice cut across their muted conversation. “Are you going to take yourselves somewhere more private, or are Killian and I going to witness a free porn show? Which, as my father will be one of the participants, is pretty far out there,” she added with a sour grimace.

  Leon clenched his hands at his sides, knowing Carla was going to run. Not exactly screaming, but certainly as if the devil were at her heels. Or his daughter’s dry mockery, at least.

  “You weren’t spanked enough as a child, Natalia,” Carla surprised him by drawling pleasantly.

  His daughter almost choked on the mouthful of champagne she’d been about to swallow. “I wasn’t spanked at all,” she finally managed to wheeze.

  “Spare the rod, spoil the child, Leon,” Carla taunted.

  He grimaced. “Believe me, I have cause to regret that oversight every day.”

  “I can imagine.” She nodded. “Accompany me to the lift?” she invited lightly.

  That confirmed their time of intimacy was at an end and Carla no longer had any plans of staying the night with him. “Of course.” He nodded tersely as he followed her, pausing briefly beside the chair where Natalia sat. “You and I are going to set some new boundaries when I get back,” he all but growled.

  She pouted. “But Daddy—”

  “You haven’t called me that since you were five years old, so cut the crap,” he snapped.

  Natalia looked genuinely contrite. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much you like her.”

  Leon did like Carla. He liked her very much. She was beautiful and spirited, and he knew he had only lightly touched on the deep well of sensuality he was sure resided inside that delicious body.

  Just as he had no doubt she was going to walk out of here with no intention of ever seeing him again, unless it was accidentally when they were both attending another function that involved Grace and Matteo. The christening of their first child, perhaps. Which, as Leon didn’t believe Grace was even pregnant, could be years away.

  Unacceptable.

  He’d meant it when he said he would delay leaving the UK tomorrow if Carla asked him to. There were things back in New York in need of his attention, but Carla only had to say the word and he would put all that aside in order to spend more time with her.

  With that in mind, he stepped into the elevator beside her.

  “You don’t need to come down with me,” she assured him.

  “My daughter’s manners might be lacking, but mine aren’t.” He pressed the button for the ground floor. “It’s late at night, and I’m going to walk you outside and make sure you get safely into a cab.”

  Again, as with the sensual dance they’d shared earlier, Carla couldn’t think of a single man her age who would show the same courtesy to a woman. It was…refreshing.

  “Or,” Leon added huskily, “I could join you in the cab and come home with you?”

  Her heart gave a jolt at the suggestion. Before reality set in. She might like to tease him, but there was no doubting he really was Leonardo Brunelli, capo dei capi, a man more powerful than any royalty or head of state.

  The thought of taking Leon anywhere near her run-down apartment building, in a less than salubrious part of London, wasn’t in the least appealing. Even if it was the best she’d been able to afford after moving from the apartment she’d shared with Benny.

  The inside of her apartment didn’t reflect the outside, the furniture new and modern and the decor warm and colorful. But even so, Carla doubted Leon, born the son of the previous capo dei capi and therefore having lived in the height of luxury all his life—she had only to think of the penthouse suite where he was staying in London to know that—would feel in the least comfortable in her cramped apartment.

  She gave a rueful grimace. “Probably not a good idea.”

  “Why not?” he persisted.

  “Because…” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “Let’s just accept that particular boat has sailed and part as friends. Far less embarrassing for both of us when we meet again in future.”

  The nearer the elevator came to reaching the ground floor, the less Leon wanted to accept that.

  He had anticipated seeing Carla again for weeks, and he’d enjoyed spending time with her tonight as much as he’d thought he would. He’d enjoy making love with her even more.

  Even the elevator seemed to be conspiring against him as all too soon it came to a gliding halt and the doors swished smoothly open.

  Leon really could have done without Jericho and Kieran standing outside in the hallway before instantly stepping in front of the open elevator, their backs toward them to prevent Leon and Carla leaving the elevator before they’d visibly checked the immediate area.

  Carla’s face was pale. It became even paler when his men’s stance became one of alertness and tension as they turned their heads left and right to check for any sign of imminent danger.

  For the first time in many years, Leon wished he wasn’t who he was. That he could just be an ordinary man attracted to a beautiful woman, and the two of them could walk down the street together, holding hands if they wanted to, and go out to dinner together, all without the shadow of his bodyguards.

  Instead of which, Carla was right, he had enemies and rivals who wished him dead.

  He lived with that threat day to day, so much so that for the main part, he had become inured to it. He would have become completely paranoid if he hadn’t.

  Carla’s reaction to seeing those bodyguards in action was enough to remind him how alien the danger of his world was to the safety of hers.

  It also acted as a reminder that showing his attraction toward her today and taking her up to the penthouse with him might not have been wise on his part. Not when he knew someone in his organization was acting against his explicit instructions and no doubt had an interest in taking Leon’s place as capo dei capi.

  The sooner Carla left the capriciousness of his world and returned to the safety of hers, the better it would be for her.

  Which didn’t mean Leon wasn’t going to enjoy these last few minutes with her. “Stand down,” he growled at the two bodyguards.

  He waited until they’d stepped aside before taking a firm hold of Carla’s elbow, the two of them stepping out of the elevator together and turning in the direction of the mainly deserted lobby.

  Leon couldn’t have said afterward what he became aware of first.

  Carla crying out as a young man stepped out from behind one of the marble pillars brandishing a gun in his hand.

  Or that she threw herself in front of him at the same time he heard the unmistakable whining of a bullet as it spiraled down the gun barrel and silencer.

  Or Carla’s gasp, followed by the jolt of her body, before her knees gave way and she began to sink to the marble floor.

  Chapter Four

  “Lie still,” a man’s husky voice instructed as Carla’s attempt to move resulted in a sharp agony that began in the vicinity of her right temple before it fractured out and then exploded across and into the rest of her body. Even her fingernails were included in that splintering heat.

  She gave a groan as the bone-deep intensity of that pain robbed her of breath and caused black spots to dance behind her closed eyelids.

  “Where the fuck is the doctor?” that gravelly voice demanded furiously.

  “He’s on his way, Papa,” a female voice soothed.

  “It’s been ten minutes. He should fucking well be here by now,” he snapped.

  “He was at the wedding and was driving home when he received our call.”

  “I don’t care if he was on his way to fucking Mars, I want him here now!”

  “You have to calm down, Papa—”

  “Don’t tell me what I have to do. We wouldn’t have been down in the lobby at all if you hadn’t sashayed back in here behaving like a spoiled little—”

  “Leon, stop,” Carla managed to say weakly, the pain having subsided enough for her to know the gravelly voice belonged to
him and the female one to his daughter, Natalia.

  “Carla!” Her left hand was taken in his tight grip. “Open those beautiful brown eyes and look at me, damn it,” Leon instructed gently when her fingers remained limp in his.

  It was too much effort to even lift her eyelids. She simply hurt too much. Everywhere.

  Instead, Carla became introspective as she questioned why she hurt. What the hell had happened to her? Where was she, and why?

  She remembered feeling pain, followed by blackness.

  The same pain that had hit just seconds ago and seemed to emanate initially from her right temple before spreading outward, but losing none of its velocity or impact when it did so.

  God, this was the part Carla hated in movies. Where the heroine, who had been totally kick-ass up to this point, suddenly had a memory loss as to what had happened to her and who was responsible, and so making it impossible for the hero to go out and kick their arse.

  The hero in this case being Leon?

  That might be stretching it a bit, but she believed he was capable of it. Both being the hero and giving the arse-kicking.

  So, back to deciding why she was in so much pain.

  She remembered coming up to the penthouse with Leon. Kissing him and being thoroughly kissed back. Natalia interrupting them. Walking to the elevator together and then—

  Nothing.

  Carla couldn’t remember a damn thing after that.

  The more she tried to remember, the worse her headache became, turning vicious so that it felt as if shards of glass were pounding against her skull, before the darkness took her once more.

  Leon felt as if he was going quietly out of his mind.

  Well…remembering how he had barked orders at his bodyguards downstairs, something he never did, then shouted at Natalia, something he also preferred not to do, perhaps he wasn’t going insane quite as quietly as he would have liked.

  But some bastard had shot Carla. A bullet Leon knew had been intended for him.

  He’d looked into the killer’s eyes, seen the fear and determination there even as the younger man raised the gun in a trembling hand and pointed it at Leon before firing. The shooter’s expression had turned to one of abject horror when it was Carla, having thrown herself in front of Leon, whose body jerked from the impact of the bullet biting through her flesh.