Page 397 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

But in the past twenty or so hours, they’ve been fluttering and flitting around pretty much nonstop whenever he’s in the vicinity.

Jesus.

I don’t even know who I am right now!

I feel his heart racing at the same speed as mine as our eyes meet. He holds me for a few seconds longer than necessary before turning me upright and placing my feet on the ground. “You okay? I know those running boards can be tricky.” He winks at me and a rush of heat floods my cheeks.

I flip my hair. “Yeah, well, I guess the bottoms of my sandals are a little slippery.”

“Or you just wanted an excuse to be back in my arms,” he murmurs.

I gasp, pushing him away. “You are such an arrogant ass!” I snap. “I told you that wasn’t happening again!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says with a smirk. “I heard what you said. But maybe your body is telling you that it doesn’t agree with that mouth of yours, the way it did when I dropped you off at the Bellagio.”

I slowly climb back into the truck, holding tight to everything I can. Only when I’m seated do I flash him a death look. “Don’t pretend to know what my body wants. And don’t flatter yourself into thinking it wantsyou.”

He snickers and closes the door once I’m inside. My pulse beats hard against my throat as he jumps into the driver’s seat and flips on the satellite radio to some noisy rock station. “You’re kinda sensitive, yeah?”

“You’re kinda annoying, yeah?” I snort.

“I prefer to think of myself as curious,” he says, pulling away from the curb and out onto the Strip headed toward the Bellagio. “Inquisitive. And you’re pretty much the opposite. So let’s add that to the list. Doesn’t like to talk, isn’t wild about old women, doesn’t have friends, and completely shut down emotionally. What gives? Who made you this way, Anya?”

“Whoa!” I exclaim. “That’s a lot of analysis for knowing me barely two hours! And nobody made me this way, thank you very much. We all have pasts that shape us, right? I mean, you obviously have one of your own. Is that what turned you into this egotistical, entitled, whore magnet?”

Oops. I didn’t mean for that last one to slip out…

“Whore magnet?” His eyebrows lift. “That’s harsh. I’d have thought you could come up with something that sounds a little nicer than that.”

“So you’re not arguing the other things I said.”

“I think you may have unfairly judged me,” he says. “But just so you know, I’m adding defensive to my list for you.”

I roll my eyes. My God, he has me in such a twist! Why can’t I just shut it down, dammit?

Aisling babbles in the backseat as the pounding bass guitar blares through the speakers. “What the heck is this, anyway? And how can you subject the baby to this devil worship music?”

“Okay, first, it’s not devil worship music. It’s Metallica.” He pauses. “Maybe a little devil worship, I don’t know. And second, Aisling loves it. She knows all of my favorites — Tool, Ozzy, Black Sabbath.”

I shake my head. “You’re crazy. You’re going to poison her brain with this crap!”

He chuckles as he turns into the long driveway of the Bellagio. “Trust me, with her genes, she’s got enough poison running through her veins already. Anyway, don’t take my comments as judgments. I’m observant and I listen.” He shrugs. “If you’re gonna be taking care of my niece, I want to know this stuff. What makes you tick.”

“I don’t work foryouso I don’t really see how it’s any of your concern,” I say in a sweet voice.

“True, but because of my work, we’ll be together a lot. And inquiring minds wanna know.” He steps on the brake as a valet comes over to take his keys.

“Just leave it up here,” Dante says with a nod of his head. “We’ll only be a little while.” Then he slips the guy a twenty-dollar bill as he gets out.

He jogs around to my side and opens my door, holding out a hand. “Wanna just jump?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye. “Or are you gonna let your shoes make that decision for you?”

I let out a little huff, fighting the urge to dive against him and step onto the driveway as he takes Aisling from the car seat. He balances her on his hip and we walk into the hotel, which, after being inside of the Excelsior, does seem a little…dingy.

We walk into the hotel, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Dante evaluate every last bit of the place. He studies it in a way that makes you believe he’s just giving a sweep of a glance, but in reality, he’s devouring every single detail.

I know because it’s the exact way I take stock of situations.

Being observant is essential in our line of work, even though he still hasn’t admitted to me we share a common occupation.

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