Page 9 of Tempted By the Devil

“Then what?”Jayla demands, her jaw damn near on the floor.

“Will you chill? He told me his name. So I told him mine. Though pretty sure he already knew it. He was obviously expecting us at his restaurant tonight. He has to know we’re the ones staying in this loft.”

“You’re telling me to chill when billionaire Rafael Calderone saved you from a mugger? Did you hit your head on the cobblestone?”

I roll my eyes as I step toward the sink and swipe a makeup remover wipe across my face. Jayla’s at my side in the middle of brushing her teeth—or she would be if she’d stop interrogating me and stick the damn toothbrush in her mouth.

We’ve returned from our night dining at Appetito and are finally winding down for bed.

“It was a quick thing. A few sentences and then it was over. It’s no big deal.”

“You said he invited you out tomorrow night?”

Huffing out a sigh, I toss the makeup wipe in the trashcan. “He mentioned he would like for me—andmy friend, which means you—to join him at some nightclub.”

“And?!”

“And what? I said maybe. It depends.”

“Depends? What do you mean it depends?”

“As in depends if we have something better to do,” I say, shrugging.

“The answer is yes!”

“What is wrong with you? Why are you so starstruck?”

Jayla almost chokes on her toothbrush. She coughs, wrenching it out of her mouth so she can spit up toothpaste into the sink. She rinses her mouth out with water, then twists off the faucet.

“I’m starstruck because it’s something that never happens! Famous billionaire men don’t just invite anyone to their restaurant. They don’t go around rescuing people from muggers. Have you seen him? He’s fine as fuck! Sissy, this means something!”

I roll my eyes a second time, fighting off a dismissive smile. Jayla goes on and on about Mr. Calderone’s impressive business portfolio, detailing how he’s made numerous smart investments all across the globe.

“The restaurant is just the tip of the iceberg,” she says excitedly.

I’m only half listening as I tie my hair up in my silk scarf and then pull my night cream out of my toiletry bag.

The truth is, my mind’s on the same person—Rafael Calderone had come out of nowhere and taken over the situation with an assertive sense of ease. He was cool and collected, almost teasing as he knocked the guy out and then gathered my hand in his. His dark eyes gleamed peering into my own, the very corner of his mouth ticking up.

My body reacted to his so naturally.

So immediately that I was frozen. I was speechless as he introduced himself.

“P-Portia,” I sputtered out, licking my lips. “Portia James.”

“I know,” he had said, then he covered my hand with his other hand and pulled me even closer. Only a few inches separated us, his spicy cologne swimming in the air. “I would like you—and your friend—to join me tomorrow night at Ballare. It is a very popular nightclub in Catania. Some wait for months to get in. I’ll send a car for you, yes?”

I hadn’t known what else to say. His dark eyes put me under his spell.

At least in the moment, I was powerless to do anything but give a nod.

“Okay,” I mouthed. “Sure.”

“Eccellente, dolcezza. I look forward to seeing you.”

His fingers grazed the back of my hand slowly, so sensuously I shivered as he turned and walked away.

All details I left out when telling Jayla about the encounter.

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