Page 490 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

And I am making a concerted effort to ignore the fact that his presence still makes my knees wobble and my heart gallop.

Zeno’s full, dark pink lips twist as a strand of hair falls over his left eye, and in a flash, a swarm of butterflies jolts awake and swarm around in my belly. Jesus, who even knew they were still taking up residence in there? My fingers ache to slick that piece of hair back in place, to feel the glossy locks between my fingers, and I have to stuff my hands into the pockets of my jeans to keep them in check.

This isn’t about you or your wounded pride, Lil. It’s about the dog, remember? Zeno is a dick! Move on!

I clear my throat and say in a tight voice. “So, the dog?”

Zeno’s eyebrows furrow and a torn expression flashes across his face. “Yeah, I got a call that it’s been hanging around La Gioia, our signature restaurant. Dog’s got excellent taste. It’s the best restaurant on the strip.” He smirks. “But he’s probably outta luck because not even God Himself could get a reservation there.”

A chuckle slips from my lips and I follow him into the casino, moving quickly in my sneakers to keep up with his long strides. Out of the corner of my eye, I see women on both sides of the casino floor stop to stare as he walks past them. A couple of them might want to wipe the drool from their lips. I can tell they’re doing the same thing I am right now, stripping him down with their lust-filled eyes to find out if he’s just as delicious underneath the expensive suit.

And I’d bet my left and right boobs that the wrapping isn’t nearly as delectable as the gift inside.

I never got to find that out myself.

Ugh! And I hate that I still want to know!

He stares straight ahead, though, never looking back at any of the women, even though their eyes are probably boring holes into his perfectly sculpted chest.

Or, at least, I imagine that it’s perfectly sculpted.

Just like the rest of him.

I mean, how could it not be when the rest of him looks like Eros personified?

The god of sex.

Oh,yes.

Forget my boobs. I’d stake mylifeon that.

Gah! I am hopeless!

He stops short to shake someone’s hand and I crash hard into his back because I’m too busy daydreaming about unbuttoning his starched white shirt with my teeth. I let out a little yelp and collapse against a woman who is walking past slowly enough to cushion my fall. Probably drinking in the tall, dark, and devilishly handsome glass of water, just like all of the others. She squeals, teetering in her sky-high heels. We both tumble into a blackjack table, scattering some old man’s chips across the table.

“Oof!” I grunt, slamming my hip into the chair next to the old man, clutching the wood rung for leverage.

He turns to me with a dark glare. “Look what you’ve done!” he says in an angry, crotchety voice. “This was a hot table and because of you, it’s iced over!”

“What?” I screech. “I almost broke my ankle, thank you very much. And instead of doing the decent thing and asking if I’m okay, you blame your crappy hand onme?” I straighten up, smoothing back the strands of hair that have fallen out of my ponytail. I point at him. “You know, some people really do suck!” I look at the woman I accidentally knocked over. “I’m sorry. I hope you’re not hurt.” Then I turn back to the old fart gaping at me. “See? That’s not so terrible, is it? Acting like a human being? You should try it sometime!” I snap before storming away from the table.

What is it with this place?

Or maybe my t-shirt is more accurate than I originally thought.

I grit my teeth, the number of people I’d like to sling dog shit at growing in leaps and bounds.

“You’re really making a lot of fans here tonight.” Zeno’s syrupy-smooth voice instantly glosses over the fact that I’ve now been tempted to bitch-slap two people in a span of about five minutes. “Should we abort the mission or keep going? I’ve gotta say I’m curious to see what happens next.”

My lips stretch into a tight line. “I came here for a rescue,” I mutter.

“Seems like maybe someone needs to rescueyou.” His eyes darken under thick lashes, his words dripping with much more innuendo than I’m used to. A chill slithers down my back under his heated stare.

Sweet Jesus.Don’t let him play you!

After that whole blow-off scene at the Montepremi, I’d, of course, asked Kat for details about Zeno and his air of mystery. But the only thing she ever really said was that he was a womanizing asshole who wasn’t worth my time, breath, or fantasies.

He’s the type of guy your family is trying to keep you away from, Lil. Be happy he’s gone.

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