Page 33 of Dagger in the Sea

They were together?

No threats, no anger, no explosion. Only a muscle along his tightly set jaw ticked, his built shoulders rigid under his open to the waist dress shirt.

“Si,”she replied glancing at him, then back at me as casually as if her chauffeur were picking her up from a playdate.

A hand went to my chest and, leaning her cheek against the side of my face, she whispered, “Adío, Lovely.” Her exotic accent laced with wistful regret drilled deep into my chest, burrowing there on a burn. Her eyes glimmered, she swept past me, and they were gone. They wove through the crowd. His arm around her. Adriana and Alessio Aliberti.

Alessio Aliberti.

My pulse heated. He was the “friend” who was busy and she hadn’t wanted to intrude? Had she been trying to make him jealous all evening with me? What the fuck did I get myself into? Well, I’d gotten his attention, hadn’t I?

I wiped the side of a thumb across my upper lip. Just a little girl looking for a good time. Just a girl looking to make a boyfriend jealous and she’d chosen me toindulgein a little quid pro quo. Drama.

Lovely, my ass.

I’d live, although my cock was really pissed off, not to mention my fucking ego. I hadn’t flirted like that in fuck knows how long. Not just the same old suggestive bullshit and teasing looks back and forth, but something else. Something more. I’d actually enjoyed myself. Imagine that.

Her warm scent lingered, teasing me—cinnamon, nutmeg, barely sweet, something darker. My insides hardened. Just as well; that’s not why I was here. Yeah, she was definitely different, but hell, I could get a flavor of the week any time of day or night back in Chicago.

Note to self: Ask Tricia if she has any Mediterranean goddesses with an accent on the payroll. If not, get on it immediately.

The happy couple hovered at the table with Gennaro Aliberti. Alessio brushed the side of her face with a quick kiss like a caring boyfriend would. Why hadn’t he torn my head off, or hers for that matter, when he’d found us together?

Was Adriana one of the girls at the café with the Alibertis today? She looked different now with her hair down, glamorous short dress—not capri jeans, a loose blouse and sandals, sunglasses, a ponytail. Fuck, yes, it was her.

A blonde stepped in my eyesight and spoke to me in a torrent of Greek, blocking my view of Alessio and Adriana. The woman laughed, holding out an unlit cigarette.

“I don’t smoke.” I glared coldly at her, and she quickly turned off her tap of cloying words and fawning looks.

Gennaro crossed the club terrace followed by his bodyguard. Luca, along with Alessio holding Adriana by the hand, also left their table. Other members of their group trailed behind. They were leaving.

I paid my tab, which took forever, and quickly pushed through the crowd past the stone archway toward the main entrance. Outside, people stood waiting for their cars, waiting for taxis, talking, talking on their mobile phones. Flashing lights went off. Paparazzi stood in bunches to the left and right, on the other side of the road, yelling out names. People I assumed were Greek celebrities waved at them, posed, talked to the photographers. Others ignored them and hustled into cars, taking off.

Alessio stood with his arm around Adriana speaking to her and she nodded, her body somewhat stiff, lips pressed together. He kissed the top of her head once more, and she leaned into him. She was uneasy. I ground my teeth. Their intimacy pissed me off. He still didn’t seem angry or annoyed with her though. He’d found his girlfriend kissing another man on their night out. Then again I’d only been her bit of fun while he’d been “busy” as she’d put it. I’d spotted him with another woman earlier.

Was this their entertainment when they went out? They’d arrive together but give each other the freedom to play over the course of the evening? And now they’d go back to his hotel room and swap tales as they fucked wildly.

The images exploded in my head, injecting their poisonous fumes into my lungs.

One

after

the other

after the other.

I had a healthy imagination, which was good, but often not.

Like now.

My pulse sped, cold adrenaline surged up my chest and down to my fingertips, my blood icy, slewing through my veins. I swallowed hard against the urge to go bash that pretty boy face of his.

This isn’t Chicago. Take a breath. She’s just another girl.

Luca smoked a cigarette at Alessio’s side, his eyes on a group of women being photographed. Alessio had let go of Adriana and was in deep discussion with his uncle.

“Adri!”someone shouted. Adriana pivoted quickly and lost her balance on those damned heels again. She rolled her eyes, grinning, wiping her hair back from her face.

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