Page 68 of Shot For Mercy

Natasha looks up from the table then, gorgeous eyes connecting with mine. She smirks, looking me up and down, and it takes everything in me to stay relaxed. My hands are clasped on the table, and Alessandro is still talking to me, but I don’t hear him. I can’t focus on anything but the thundering of blood in my ears and her eyes on mine. I need to talk to her, get things moving along. The night is almost over, and I’m practically Cinderella. I have until midnight.

“Do you think she’ll want to dance?” I ask my brother. “That’s a good way to woo her, right?”

“Why do you need to do that to fuck her?” he asks, brows furrowed.

“I’m not a fucking caveman.” I laugh, and Natasha raises an eyebrow at me. “I have manners. And I can appreciate having to earn her time, too.”

“Run along then, brother.” Alessandro huffs, and I know he’s annoyed. “Go woo her.”

But just then, our food is placed in front of us. I spend the next hour making eyes at her and making small talk with my father. Shit I definitely don’t want to be doing. Then, like the dutiful son that I am, I listen to the guest speakers and pay attention. Mostly because I know I’m being trained to be Don, and I don’t want to disappoint. So I put in the effort, despite how I feel about it.

I check my watch, seeing that we still have a few hours until midnight, which is when the party is over. Everyone is finishing their five course meal, and they begin to get up to mingle or go to the dance floor. I take that as my cue to go to Natasha, giving my brotherthelook, and he rolls his eyes, but nods all the same. He understands what I meant by that one look, and I’m grateful I don’t have to keep trying to convince him. He’ll cover for me if needed.

Making my way to Natasha, I stop right beside her chair and lean down to whisper in her ear. “Can I have this dance?”

Natasha looks up at me, smirking. “What makes you think I want to dance?”

“Don’t you?” I shrug nonchalantly, as if my heart isn’t trying to beat out of my chest. She might just be way out of my league. “Just one dance, then I’ll leave you alone.”

She seems to contemplate my question, but then nods once, getting up from the chair. I grin victoriously, offering my arm up to her, and she loops hers through mine, holding on to my arm with a death grip.

I lead her to the dance floor, a slow song playing through the speakers, and hold her close to me. We sway with the music, and she looks up at me with wide eyes.

“Who taught you how to dance like this?” she asks, slightly breathless.

“I’ve had lessons.” I grin, and her eyes widen even more, as if she’s surprised. But she looks impressed too. I can tell. “You like?”

Before she can reply, I spin her, and she lands with her hands on my chest. “It’s definitely not what I expected.”

“I love to surprise people.”

“Consider me surprised,” she replies with a flirty grin. “So, what’s your name?”

“You’re telling me you don’t already know?” I ask, brows furrowed.

“I do, but the polite thing to do is introduce yourself.” She looks into my eyes as she says it, her blue-gray ones sparkling. “I’m Natasha. Pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m sure the pleasure will be all mine, Natasha.” I smirk, and she raises an eyebrow. “I’m Emiliano.”

“So, Emiliano,” Natasha says slowly. “Why did you come up to me, anyway?”

“What, a guy can’t ask for a dance?” Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. But she can see right through my bullshit. I bet she has a lie detector.

“And is that all you want?” She smirks, running a hand down my chest. “Or are you here for more?”

“It depends.” I shrug. “Do you want more?”

“I could be convinced.”

My stomach flips at those words, and I give her a soft smile before spinning her slowly once more. She looks surprised and impressed when she makes it back into my arms, and I thank my lucky stars for the stupid lessons I hated. Because right now they’re coming in handy. I wonder if they’ll come in handy in the future too, but my guess is yes.

Coming to these events has never appealed to me before, but if I get to see her again, I’ll attend all of them with a smile. I bet my dad would find that suspicious, but as I look around, I don’t see him anywhere. Alessandro is still sitting at our table, though, looking right at us with a scowl on his face. I give him a two-finger salute and continue to dance with Natasha.

“So, Tasha.” I smile. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Tonight, I’m someone else.”

“I can respect that,” I reply seriously. “I can be someone else, too. For you.”

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