It’s a plan I wouldn’t have been bold enough to make at the beginning of my agreement with Diego but as time goes on, he’s been allowing me small liberties. He calls them rewards for good behavior, and I take advantage of every inch he’ll give me. I’m now allowed to take my meals in the dining room, and sometimes have him, Marcella, or Jovan for company. Going anywhere by myself is strictly forbidden, but I can’t complain when I’ve been allowed to visit my apartment. Jovan chauffeured me there himself, with two other soldiers along for security. Under their watchful eyes, I gathered clothes and the familiar comforts of home. They accompanied me to the drugstore for some other essentials, and even took me to my favorite coffee shop for a latte and a pastry.
When Galina mentions the fitting at Belleza to Diego, he doesn’t seem to mind and even says he’d like to come along and see me in my element. Oleg and Galina seem to think this romantic, but I know it’s only so he can keep tabs on me.
The constant smiling and playacting have me exhausted and looking forward to sleeping in on the first Saturday without plans in weeks. That idea is dashed to pieces when Diego parts the curtains at eight in the morning, casually dressed in tan dress pants and a white button-up.
“Rise and shine, gatita. We’re having company this afternoon.”
With a groan, I yank the blankets over my head to block out the light. “It’s Saturday.”
“It is,” he agrees. “And the weather’s perfect for a barbecue out by the pool.”
I peek one eye from behind my blanket and find him standing over me, looking amused.
“Don’t you ever wear jeans?” I grumble.
“Rarely, but not today. This party isn’t for pleasure … it’s business.”
Throwing the blanket aside, I sit up and rub my eyes. “Oleg and Galina?”
“The entire family,” Diego corrects. “And a few of the bratva.”
He offers me his hand and pulls me from the bed. I’m caught in that simmering, dark gaze again, too vulnerable in my state of half-wakefulness to resist noticing how good he smells. He didn’t shave this morning, and the dark stubble makes him look twice as sinister as usual.
“How much longer are we going to have to do this?” I ask, tearing my gaze away from him. Diego is at his most dangerous at times like this; when he’s in a good mood and giving off enough charm to make me forget who and what he is. I need the distraction of idle conversation.
“Not much longer,” he says, while I cross the room and reach for my thin, silk robe. “Oleg no longer doubts our relationship, and hasn’t tried pushing Nataly into my path in a while.”
“Will she be there today?” I ask, unable to hide the irritation in my voice. Nataly seems like a nice girl, but she’s as boring as white bread and her constant staring and fawning over Diego have gotten annoying.
Diego’s lips twitch with humor as he reaches out to pull me into him. His hands skim my waist, and his thumbs trace the undersides of my breasts. The intimacy of the act catches me off guard, and all I can do is stand there while he toys with me.
“Yes. We’ll be by the pool, so make sure to wear sunscreen … and something that will make her wish she could look as sexy in a bikini as you do.”
I can’t respond to that, because his thumbs move higher, stroking my nipples.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I manage, my breaths turning to short pants as he increases pressure, joining his index fingers with his thumbs to pinch. The sensation shoots straight down between my legs and makes my knees weak.
He chuckles and palms one of my breasts, giving it a light squeeze. “What does it look like? I’m admiring what’s mine. Do you want me to stop?”
“If you want me dressed and ready to perform by lunchtime, you’re going to have to.”
Diego lets out an irritated huff but drops his hands. “Fine. But I’m not finished with you. If you’re a good girl today, I’ll pick up where I left off later.”
Oh fuck. A shiver shoots through me at the heavy promise in his words. I’ve been on fire for weeks. At this point, I’m ready to get this over with for the sake of my raging hormones as well as executing my plan to wrap Diego around my finger. The way he’s looking at me—like he’s two seconds away from mounting me—I realize I might be closer to that goal than I thought.
“Hmm,” I murmur, turning away to head for the bathroom. “Maybe I’ll allow that … but only if you are a good boy.”
“That fucking mouth,” he grumbles just before I close and lock the bathroom door, leaving him on the other side.
With a hand over my lips to muffle my giggles, I turn on the shower. Knowing I’ll have to spend my day entertaining Oleg and his family doesn’t make me excited to leave this room, but I can’t deny being happy at the thought of a swim. Diego has turned me into a well-trained puppy, ready to perform on command for treats. If it gets me closer to freedom, I won’t fight it … for the time being.
I take my time getting ready for the party, going to the dining room for breakfast with Marcella before returning to my room to change. Music blares through the house’s speaker system, growing louder once I make my way downstairs. The glass doors are open to the patio, and the smells off the grill flood my senses. Marcella, Jovan, and a handful of others are already in the pool, while a group of Diego’s men stand clustered around the outdoor bar—where a pretty woman in a white bikini hands out beers and mixes drinks. There are more women here than I’ve ever seen on the premises before, and after a few minutes of observation I realize these are the wives and girlfriends of Diego’s men. They seem comfortable with each other, talking and laughing—a few crowded around a massive wooden table, where they work to spread out the side dishes and condiments.
The laughter of children draws my attention to the little ones playing soccer near the fence for the first time. It never occurred to me that such a scene would be possible in a place like this, and around men like these. The same men who guard the house to keep me from escaping, who stood by with guns drawn to take me down when I threatened Diego, who come and go from this house at all hours to do the bidding of their boss. They’re husbands, lovers, and fathers today, wearing shorts and t-shirts that flaunt their tattoos and smiling as if the world outside the fence doesn’t live in terror of their very existence.
I spot Diego near the pool, with a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes and his shirt half-unbuttoned as he reclines in one of the loungers. He couldn’t be more different from the others, as if his status places him in a league of his own. I wonder if he feels he can’t be like them because he has to exude dominance and dignity, or if he’s always been so serious and buttoned-up.
“It doesn’t matter, you idiot,” I whisper to myself. Stupid thoughts like those will get me in trouble. I can’t afford to start seeing Diego as a human being with feelings and emotions and a past. He’s a monster with no soul, no humanity. If I can maintain that image of him, I can beat him at our game. I can free myself.
With that in mind, I make my way toward him, allowing my thin cover-up to fall open. I don’t need to see his eyes to know he’s looking me over. I went out of my way to put on the smallest, sexiest bathing suit I own. After all, I’m only doing what I was told. The turquoise color looks great against my skin, and the triangular cups of the top reveal more than they cover. It’s the bottoms that are sure to hold his attention for the entire afternoon—a high-cut thong. I’ve never worn it outside the privacy of the pool at my father’s house, but if there was ever a time for me to be more daring, this is it. For now, the cover-up keeps my ass out of full view, but I’m prepared to present myself to Diego like a juicy steak on a platter.
“Do you approve?” I tease, giving a little twirl and then strike a pose.
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t remove his shades. “Yes and no.”
“Why no?”
He motions a hand to indicate my exposed skin. “You might as well be wearing dental floss.”
“I thought this was what you wanted,
” I reply with my best innocent smile.
“You have no idea what I want, gatita,” he murmurs, his voice low and silky and sending goose bumps over my skin despite the heat.
“Mind if I take a dip?” I ask, glancing at the pool.
He flicks a dismissive hand. “You can do whatever you want as long as you stay where I can see you.”
Oh, I intend to.
“Of course,” I tell him. Then, I turn and let the cover-up slip off my shoulders.
Diego sounds like he’s choking on air as I saunter toward the pool, my entire backside exposed. “Fuck,” he whispers, sounding pained.
I feel his eyes on me as I enter the water, but do my best to pretend to be oblivious. For the next hour or so, I swim and relax in the pool. Within that time, Oleg and his family arrive. Oleg is dressed much like Diego—as if he’s headed to the golf course instead of a casual barbecue. His wife and children are more relaxed, in sarongs and bathing suits, t-shirts and trunks. Nataly looks like a perfect princess in a baby pink one-piece and a transparent skirt tied around her waist.
When she sits on the lounger directly to Diego’s left, the urge to snatch her up by her hair overwhelms me. I can’t explain why her perfection and attempts to get Diego’s attention bother me so much. Maybe it’s because I find her desperation pitiful, and part of me really wants to see her tell both Diego and her father to fuck off.
“Uh oh,” Jovan says, standing beside me against the side of the pool. “You might want to get over there. Someone’s sniffing around your territory.”
As usual, Jovan is annoyingly perfect, his bare chest smooth and defined, glistening with droplets of water. He looks younger with his wet hair slicked against his head, and his teasing smile almost takes the edge off the annoyance his comment caused.
Almost.
“Not my territory,” I reply with a shrug. “Not my problem.”
“Denial isn’t cute on you, Elena,” Jovan says with a snort. “But, whatever. Let the blonde bombshell sit there with her perfect tits and pouty lips next to your guy. Maybe Diego will start to notice how hot she looks, or how much easier she would be to manage than you.”
He follows his warning by dragging a finger across his throat, mimicking someone’s throat being cut. My throat, obviously.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I snap.
“At the moment? No. I like to have fun on my days off and right now watching you get jealous is like being in an amusement park.”
“Of course it is, you’re practically a child.”
My words lack any sharpness or venom, as I’m forced to acknowledge—to myself at least—that I don’t hate Jovan as much as I want to. He’s too damn likable.
“Guilty as charged,” he says with a laugh. “But, seriously, I can tell you’ve been taking my advice. Diego’s like a stud in heat around you. It’s working.”
“He’s a man. You’re all like studs in heat.”
“Does he look like he’s in heat right now?” Jovan challenges.
I watch Nataly lean over the arm of her lounger, smiling and running a hand up Diego’s arm. Jovan’s right; he isn’t putting off any of the intensity he radiates when he’s close to me. But still, my stomach churns at the sight of them—a perfect mafia king and the princess hoping he’ll sweep her off her feet.
“You’re not going to keep his interest from all the way over here,” Jovan teases. “Better get in there champ. I’m rooting for you. Don’t let me down.”
“Fuck off,” I grumble. But I still make my way to the stairs and step out of the pool, my sights set on Diego. I won’t admit it out loud, but Jovan is right. I have to keep Diego’s attention on me. It’ll make our ruse look more real, and also keep his mind off killing me and on fucking my brains out.
His attention snaps to me the moment I’m on dry ground, and he doesn’t look away as I select a towel from one of the baskets surrounding the pool and dry off. Nataly is still blabbering about something, but he isn’t paying her the slightest bit of attention. He sits up straighter in his lounger when I approach, putting on a wide smile.
“Having fun?” he asks, his voice deceptively light. I can see the tension running through him, the arousal pushing at the front of his pants.
“The water’s perfect,” I reply, climbing over him on the lounger. “You should come in with me.”
Diego stiffens when I drape myself over him, my legs falling between his and my hip pressing right against his crotch. I slip a hand into his open shirt and toy with the short, springy hairs peppering his chest.
He maintains his cool composure when I drop a kiss on the side of his neck, but every inch of him is stiff and coiled tight. His hand falls onto one of my exposed ass cheeks, and he gives it a squeeze.
“Maybe next time, gatita.”
Nataly clears her throat, and I sit up and give her my best ‘surprised’ face. “Oh, Nataly! I didn’t see you there. Love your suit. It’s very … cute.”
She narrows her cool blue eyes at me and forces a tight smile. “Thank you. I like yours, too. It’s very … edgy.”
“We are lucky men to be surrounded by such lovely women,” Oleg cuts in, seeming to want to dispel some of the animosity between me and his daughter.
“Indeed,” Diego agrees. His fingertips trail along my thigh and hip, and then his hand is beneath my breast again, cupping it possessively. “Baby, I hate to trouble you, but would you mind bringing me a beer?”
I get to my feet and give him a sly smile. “You only want to see me walk away.”
Diego smirks. “I’ve been caught.”
“You’re terrible,” I say with a shake of my head before walking away.
Once there’s some distance between us, I can breathe a little easier. I know how necessary it is for me to get close to him, but it always feels like hovering my hand over a bear trap. I never know how far is too far, or when he’ll snap around me with steel jaws.
The party is in full swing at this point, our lunch ready and laid out on the table. The kids and their mothers are sitting on blankets in the grass to eat, and some of the men have joined them. Drinks have been flowing the entire time, and lowered inhibitions have Diego’s men talking and joking with Oleg’s men like they’re all old friends.
“A beer and a daiquiri, please,” I say to the girl tending the bar. The air is cooler under the patio, so I lean against the counter to wait, enjoying a break from the humidity and scorching sun.
“I have to ask,” says a male voice from behind me. “Is that suit your own design?”
I turn to face Viktor, who looks like he just left the pool. He’s wearing only a pair of swim shorts and sunglasses. His blond hair is wet and hanging over his forehead, and his tanned chest is marked with what I assume is a tattoo unique to the Russian Bratva.
He’s looking at me in that creepy way again—a shark baring its teeth before devouring a fish. The guy would be hot if he didn’t give me the creeps.
“Um … no,” I reply, my face starting to hurt from constantly wearing a fake smile. I don’t want to be rude and offend Viktor, which would put me back on Diego’s bad side. All I can do is bide my time until my daiquiri is ready. “I’m only just starting to design my own swimwear line. Nothing has been produced just yet.”
Viktor drags his eyes up and down my body, not bothering to hide his interest. “Well, I’ll have to find out who designed this one so I can thank them. To call it perfection doesn’t seem good enough.”
Ugh. Could this guy be more oily? I have a sudden urge to go running back to Diego. Better the devil I know than one I don’t.
“You’re sweet,” I manage, folding my arms over my chest. I haven’t felt exposed all day, but Viktor’s leering makes me feel like I’m standing here naked. “Thank you.”
Viktor props an elbow on the bar and barks out his order for a vodka and soda. Then, I have his full attention again. “No need to thank me for speaking the truth. You’re an exceptional woman, Elena. Diego
doesn’t know how fortunate he is.”
“Oh, trust me … he knows.”
Viktor lets out a laugh loud enough to draw the attention of everyone standing within earshot. “He might. But does he appreciate what he has? If you were mine, I would never allow you to parade around in front of other men dressed like that.”
“Excuse me?” I scoff. “Diego doesn’t allow me to do anything. He’s my boyfriend, not my father.”
Viktor edges closer and lowers his voice. “When I’m with a woman, I pleasure her so well she has no trouble doing as she’s told. Maybe what you need is a man who’s up to the challenge of—”
“I’m more than up for the challenge.”
Diego’s low, rasping voice nearly makes me jump out of my skin—which is ridiculous, because I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Still, I press my lips together and back away as he maneuvers himself between me and Viktor, his hands balled into fists. The tattoos on his fingers stand out against the light colors of his clothes, dark and menacing, and I find it far too easy to imagine them stained with Viktor’s blood. I’m even more surprised to realize it’s something I actually want to see.
“Diego,” Viktor says with a grin. “We were just talking. Your lady is allowed to talk isn’t she?”
“Not to you,” Diego snaps, his voice raising enough that the others on the patio notice. “Because of my respect for your father, I tolerate your presence … but don’t mistake my graciousness for weakness. If I catch you anywhere near Elena again, I’ll make you regret it.”
Viktor stands up straight, his eyes becoming icy and sharp, his nostrils flaring. “Was that a threat?”
“That’s a fucking certainty,” Diego fires back. “I won’t warn you again. Keep your eyes down and your mouth shut around my lady, or you’ll suddenly lose the ability to look at or speak to anyone ever again.”
With the shocked gazes of the entire party on us, Diego takes my hand and pulls me away. Despite being nearly the same height as him, I have to trot to keep up with Diego, who’s charging past his guests like a raging bull. My heart pounds when we near the bathhouse on the other side of the yard, afraid of what might happen once we’re inside.
Marrying the Mobster: American Gangsters 1 (Leave Me Breathless) Page 13
