Page 373 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

I feel bad. They obviously don’t get out much, but I don’t really have time to be a tour guide right now.

I sneak a glance back at Gio and bite down hard on my lower lip.

He doesn’t know who I am and let’s face it, if he tried anything, I could end him in a hot second, even without a gun.

It’s what I do.

But before I can respond to Dottie, Gio appears next to me and snakes an arm around my waist. “Babe, I’m sorry I was late. Come on, your chariot awaits.” He grins at the older women. “Sorry, ladies. My car’s a two-seater, or I’d take you all with us.”

Lust beats out my better judgment and I let him lead me away from the cab stand and out of the sweltering heat.

His familiar scent wafts under my nostrils, and for a split second, it weakens my knees.

Until I remember why I’m here and what I have to do.

“Wait,” I say as we walk away. “If you only have a two-seater, how are you going to pick up whoever you’re here to pick up?”

“I’m not picking anyone up. I flew in and my car was waiting in short-term parking. I made a wrong turn and ended up in front of you.” He winks at me. “Lucky for me. And you since I was able to rescue you.” Gio puts my bags into the tiny trunk and pulls open my door, slipping a bill into the hands of the cop who is currently writing him a ticket for double-parking outside of Arrivals. The ticket disappears as I slide into the cool luxe leather bucket seat, and the cop tips his hat at Gio before walking back to his car.

“That still remains to be seen,” I mutter under my breath.

Gio jumps into the car next to me and presses his foot on the gas. The car lurches forward as he shifts, swerving around cars.

“I guess I should have been more worried that I’d end up a mangled wreck in a tragic car accident than being chopped up into a million pieces,” I say.

“So tell me why you were so desperate to keep away fromThe Golden Girlsback there,” he says, zooming onto I-215 toward Las Vegas.

I twist my ponytail around my finger, trying not to stare at his profile and the chiseled jaw I long to graze with my fingertips. “I wasn’t desperate. I just have someplace to be.”

“Like the rest of us,” he quips, signaling and swerving into the left lane.

“She was kind of a talker, too,” I say, stretching my legs out as far as they’ll go in front of me.

“And what’s the problem with that? You don’t talk back?”

“Well, I wasn’t really given the chance.” I smirk, shielding my eyes with my hand as the sunshine beats down on me through the window. Even though it’s tinted, it isn’t enough to prevent the light assault on my eyes. “She was hard to stop once she got going. I got a little tired of listening. Whatever. Call me a bitch for it. Still…” I sigh. “She was so happy to spend some time with her friends. Except for the one whose asshole husband wouldn’t let her come out here.”

“I bet she’s the hot one,” he muses, a sexy smirk lifting his lips. “Husband is jealous, doesn’t want her picking anyone up at one of the early-bird specials or slot tournaments.”

I giggle. “Yeah, maybe. It’s just cool that she has a group of friends to hang with. Sounds like they’d been friends for a really long time.”

“So you’re a busy lady, you don’t like to talk, and you have no friends.” He lifts an eyebrow as he turns to check me out again. “And you were suspicious ofme?”

I roll my eyes. “I have friends, thank you very much. Just not, you know, super close ones I grew up with. I keep a very small circle.” Like so tight, nobody other than Olga and Uncle Boris can push through. Let’s face it. Nobody else could handle me, and I’m not so sure I’d want them to anyway. “How about you? How tight is your circle?”

He flashes me a sidelong glance. “Damn tight. I don’t really have friends either. I have business associates. And brothers.”

I nod. “That must be nice,” I say. “How many?”

“Three. It gets loud when we’re together.”

“Well, you’re Italian, so…” I snicker, kind of startled that I made a joke. I’m not really the jokey type.

“Aha, so you picked up on my accent.”

“The accent, the clothes, the car, the…” I twist around, pretending to get a closer look. “Wait, are you wearing the Italian horn around your neck? Or a cross?”

“Oh, shit. You’ve really got me pegged, don’t you?” He chuckles and the sound reverberates through my insides, just like it did last night. I take a deep breath, inhaling his spicy scent. I bite back the moan that threatens to slip from my lips.

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