Page 40 of Giovanni the Savage

"Answer me," I demand softly, wetting my lips and watching her eyes look hungrily at them before they flutter closed.

Once again, I don't give her a chance to speak because my face bends lower, and I place a soft kiss on her lips. A strangled moan slips out.

Her eyes snap open, but she tries to mask the disappointment swirling in her irises. She looks annoyed at the smirk on my face.

I don't retract my face from hers; my thumb remains on her parted lips. I can almost smell her arousal, and her desire is clinging to the air.

"We have a date on Sunday," I whisper in her ear, which seems to snap her back to reality. "I'll pick you up by five pm."

I maintain my full height after passing the information, but she still looks like she's composing herself.

"Okay, sir, " she finally responds.

I nod, and she turns around and walks swiftly out of my office. My eyes follow her movement and her thighs.

If I can barely get it together when she's in corporate clothes, I don't know how I will when she's dressed for an event.

Suddenly, capturing Harvey isn't the only thing I'm looking forward to on Sunday night.

CHAPTER ELEVEN – Luna

Giovanni's definition of a date is far from the generic definition, which would entail a private dinnerat a table lit with candles and soft music in the background.

The shock on my face is evident when the limousine turns into a steel gate, and cars drive slowly down the tree-lined driveway. The long driveway opens to an ample parking space with over a hundred people milling around and expensive cars parked orderly.

Everyone looks very busy, and the compound is lit with fairy lights and floodlights casting a warm glow. There are also a bunch of men dressed in uniforms, and I shiver when I notice pistols tucked below their belts.

Definitely not a date.

My eyes bounce around the compound for any sign that I'm on a date. There's a large banner overhead that spells out Kincaid Welfare.

I don't mind the name until I do a double-take and realize it has a familiar ring.

My eyes widen, and I can instantly feel my face go pale. Kincaid. That's Victor's last name. Victor Kincaid is the Don of the American Mafia.

I can feel the bile rise to my throat, and suddenly, I want to leave now more than ever. This is not exactly how I had envisioned my first date with Giovanni. I know it's dumb, but now I feel bad for putting in so much effort.

I'm wearing a back-dipped, ankle-length dress with a train and a low neckline that shows off ample cleavage. I didn't even carry a coat because I was determined not to hide how sexy I look, only to realize I dressed up just to walk into the lion's den.

A reflexive smile forms on my face when I feel a tap on my thigh. I look up to find Giovanni looking at me with concern in his eyes.

"You okay?" he asks softly as his thumb traces a pattern on my bare thigh because of the thigh slit on the gown.

"Yeah." I nod and try not to look too uncomfortable, but I know he won't stop looking at me like that if I don't give him an excuse. "Just not used to all this."

He chuckles.

"You can never really get used to it," he responds. "But you can get bored of it. The trick is to pretend like they're all wearing garbage bags."

He winks, and butterflies take flight in my stomach for two entirely different reasons. The obvious wink and the realization that he could calm me down with just a few words.

I stifle a chuckle and nod at his impeccable deep blue suit. "Including you?"

"Whatever rocks your boat, Luna." He smiles and places a kiss on my shoulder.

This is the first time he's been direct with his approach and not teasing me as usual, and I was not ready for how good it would feel.

The Almighty Giovanni Matthieson is making jokes with me.

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