Enzo: Adamo Bodyguards Book 3 Read online

Page 2


  “In a minute.” I have questions for her, and fortunately, I can justify them as part of my preparation for the job. “How many boyfriends have you had?”

  She blushes. It’s fucking adorable. “I’ve never had a real boyfriend.”

  I don’t know what she means by real, and I’m not going to ask her that here on a busy street, in case it means what I suspect. “You’ve never brought anyone home before?”

  “No.” She chews her lower lip, and I want to replace her teeth with my own. “There was no point getting serious about anyone who didn’t meet the criteria.”

  “Right. Wealthy and connected, or don’t bother.” So fucked up. “Did you ever try to talk to them about all this?”

  “I didn’t question it when I was growing up. It was … flattering, to be told I was my grandfather’s heir apparent. He’s still a dynamic personality, even now, and as a child I was in awe of him. I was an obedient girl by nature, and outwardly, at least, everyone in my family was on the same page.”

  “No one ever said a contrary word?”

  “No. I realize now, looking back, that anyone who disagreed would have kept their mouth shut, but it’s also possible that none of them saw anything wrong with it.”

  A breeze kicks up. Lucy shivers, and I curse myself for not having brought a jacket I could loan her. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

  I lead her toward my cousin Bruno’s place, but Lucy stops dead when she realizes where we’re headed. “Bei Gioelli is the best jewelry boutique in the city!”

  “I know.”

  She goes on as if I haven’t spoken. “Everything they offer is exquisite; my father got my mother her twenty-fifth anniversary gift there. We can’t possibly borrow one of their rings.”

  “I told you; it’s family.”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  Fuck, she’s cute. I admire her ability to stand firm, even though I’m finding it damned inconvenient at the moment. “Do you have a security detail?”

  “What?” Lucy frowns at me. “No; I’m not a public figure.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want them to think I was abducting you into an engagement.”

  “What are you—” She breaks off with a gasp when I plant my shoulder in her stomach and hoist her over my shoulder. And then she goes very, very still.

  I’m going to hear about this later, and I look forward to that conversation. But my good girl isn’t about to make a scene in public. Carrying her up to Bruno’s door, I’m keenly aware of her softness pressing against me, the warmth of her thighs where my arm’s clamped across them, the sweet scent of her, better than any perfume.

  I could get used to carrying Lucy Dalton around.

  There’s a button next to the door. I push it to ask admission, making sure my face is clearly visible to the cameras. A few seconds later, the door buzzes, and I pull it open and step into the secure entry cage, with a door at the other end that leads into the store proper. After the first door shuts behind me, a light inside the cage goes from red to green, and then Bruno himself holds the second door open so I can carry Lucy inside.

  “Cugino.” He’s trying, and failing, to keep a straight face. “What can I do for you?”

  I set Lucy down. “Lucy, this is my cousin, Bruno Adamo. Bruno, Lucy Dalton. We need to borrow an engagement ring for the week.”

  Bruno’s eyebrows shoot up. Lucy’s looking at me like she’s pretty sure a jury would rule for justifiable homicide after she kills me. My cousin quickly puts on a serious expression and treats my request like an everyday occurrence.

  “Of course. Take a look around, Ms. Dalton, and pick out whatever you like.”

  Lucy’s silent for several seconds, but her face is very expressive. She’s caught between the desire to leave, the urge to commit violence, and the demands of civility. In the end, manners win out.

  “Thank you,” she tells Bruno. “That’s extremely kind of you.” I get another dirty look before she moves off, shoulders stiff, to examine the offerings in the glass cases around the room.

  The second her back is turned, Bruno’s eyes dance with mirth. “Only for a week?” he says, in a voice pitched low, for my ears only.

  “She’s a client.”

  “Uh-huh. And I suppose you carry every client around like that.”

  He’s got a point. Instead of answering him, I move up beside Lucy, and Bruno goes to stand behind the case she’s inspecting. “Let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to take out for you, Ms. Dalton.”

  “All of it is amazing.” She opens her mouth to say something else, then stops herself, and I’m certain she was going to ask Bruno if he really doesn’t mind us borrowing one of his creations.

  Because Lucy was right; everything here is high end and top quality. Bruno does his own designs, and a lot of custom work as well. He’s more an artist than a merchant.

  “Do you have a favorite gemstone?” he asks, when Lucy’s looked through two cases without saying anything more. “Your birthstone, perhaps?”

  “That would be the ruby,” Lucy says softly.

  “Ah.” Bruno slides open one of the cases and removes a velvet box. The ring inside it has a diamond at its center, with smaller diamonds and rubies woven around it in an intricate pattern.

  “Oh, my goodness.” Lucy stares at the ring like it’s a magical talisman.

  “Try it on,” Bruno urges, removing the ring from its box. She holds out her right hand. He looks at her, then at me.

  “Other hand,” I murmur. Lucy yanks her hand back, her cheeks reddening, and holds out her left. It’s shaking almost imperceptibly.

  Bruno slides the ring on; it fits perfectly. “It looks good on you,” he tells her. “It’s a nice size for your hand.”

  “Do you like it?” I ask.

  She blushes again. “It’s beautiful.” Taking the ring off, a little hastily, she hands it back to him. “Are you sure you don’t mind—”

  “Not at all,” Bruno says. “My cousin knows how to take care of what’s valuable.”

  Lucy doesn’t miss the double meaning. Seeing her get so flustered, after her extreme composure in my office, makes me want to compliment her all day long.

  Not to mention all night.

  “Keep it on,” I tell her. “Better start getting used to that too.”

  “Oh. Right.” She stretches out her hand again — but Bruno hands the box to me.

  I get a strange sensation in my chest as I remove the ring and carefully put it back on her finger. Lucy doesn’t meet my eyes, and I resist the impulse to do something dumb like kiss her.

  We both have a part to play, but the more she thinks my attraction to her is just an act, the less likely she is to take me seriously when I tell her this assignment is just the beginning between us. When I kiss her — when I touch her — I’ll make damn sure she knows it’s because I want to.

  “Thanks, cugino,” I tell Bruno just as the buzzer sounds to signal another customer. “Appreciate it.”

  “Anytime.” He checks the monitor and smiles. “Looks like it’s family night.”

  3

  The Biggest Mistake

  Bruno opens the door to admit two more tall, hot Italian men. Someone ought to do a genetic study of this family and figure out how the men manage to be so uniformly sexy, even as they’re all individuals. If they could bottle whatever the secret is, they’d make a fortune.

  Enzo introduces them as Xander and Adrian. They look like identical twins, and their eyes are a striking golden brown. Sharp eyes, too, because they both notice the ring on my finger — but when Enzo introduces me as Lucy Dalton, without any further explanation, they don’t bring it up.

  “What brings you in?” Bruno asks them.

  “A birthday gift for our mother. Ever since Kosta and Dani got married, she won’t stop asking us when we’re going to settle down and give her grandbabies. We need a really good bribe to distract her.”

  Xander says it with a smile, and such obvious affe
ction that I can’t help smiling too. “Are you the Greek branch of the family?” I ask.

  “Ah, an educated woman. What do you do, Lucy?”

  “I’m a kindergarten teacher.”

  “Excellent. Children deserve the best. Yes, our mother’s part Greek.”

  I don’t know what gets into me. Maybe it’s the ring on my finger, making me a temporary part of their family, which I can already tell is so much warmer and more open than mine. Whatever it is, I decide to tease him a little. “You sound like you love children, but you don’t want any of your own?”

  “The problem with intelligent women,” Adrian intones solemnly, “is that they’re inquisitive.”

  Though his eyes are twinkling, I still feel abashed. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

  He laughs and shoots Enzo a look I can’t quite read. “No, it’s all right. Xander and I, we’re just picky. And, if I’m honest, we’ve got a tendency to be workaholics. But we’d both settle down in a second if we met the right woman.”

  Xander winks at me. “I don’t suppose you have any sisters?”

  My face heats. I think I’ve done more blushing in the last hour than the rest of my life put together. What is it about these Adamo men? “I do, but they’re fifteen and twelve.”

  “Ah, well, it was worth a shot. Good to meet you, Lucy. I’d tell Enzo to take good care of you, but I think he’s got that under control.”

  His remark leaves me off-balance again as we say goodbye and Enzo ushers me out. What did Xander mean by that? Is he talking about the ring? But then, nobody mentioned it.

  “It’s late,” Enzo says as we emerge onto the sidewalk. “Did you have dinner?”

  “No.” I was too nervous, knowing that I was feeling desperate enough to resort to these kinds of tactics with my own family.

  “Let’s go eat.” He puts his arm around me, tucking me against his side. I wrap my arm around his waist, purely out of reflex, and we start off down the sidewalk.

  Goodness. Being pressed up against him is very disturbing. All that warm, hard muscle, his yummy scent, the tingles I’m getting everywhere? I’m glad I have a sweater covering my breasts, because my nipples are hard enough to cut glass right now.

  Fortunately, we don’t go far before Enzo steers me inside a restaurant. The interior features low lighting and linen tablecloths on the tables. The maître d’ seats us immediately, with a familiar smile for my fake fiancé that makes me think this is another family-owned business.

  After he’s gone, I realize our table is bare except for the place settings. “No menus?”

  “No. Everyone gets the same thing, which is whatever Delfina feels like making on a given day.”

  “She must be good, if everyone shows up for a mystery menu.” Even at this late hour, most of the tables are full.

  “She’s magic with food.” He grins, and it amps up his hotness level so much that I wish I had a menu I could fan myself with. “Her dating life’s an absolute disaster, but in the kitchen, she never puts a foot wrong.”

  “Is she your sister?”

  “No, another cousin. I only have brothers.”

  “How many?”

  “Five.”

  “Six boys. Wow.” I can’t even imagine. His mother must be some kind of saint.

  “Is it just you and your sisters?”

  “I also have a brother, Jordan. I thought four kids was a lot.” I say it with a smile, but Enzo’s not bothered.

  “Adamos tend to be pretty prolific. My brothers Daniel and Gabriel are twins, but still, that’s five.”

  A waiter brings us an appetizer, and we begin what turns out to be a seven-course meal. All of it, Enzo tells me as we eat, is local, in-season food, and all of it is delicious. Each course is small, enough to savor, and it leaves us plenty of time to talk.

  We share childhood stories, along with our favorite foods and colors, songs and hobbies — the random bits and pieces that go into getting to know someone. It might as well be a real date.

  I’m very aware of the ring on my finger. Enzo put it on me without a smile, or a joke, almost solemnly. It made it all feel much more real, somehow.

  Which is silly. We’re just pretending. This is all an elaborate farce to get my family off my back.

  I just have to keep telling myself that, because I’m enjoying spending time with Enzo Adamo way too much.

  “So,” he says, as we’re about to begin our dessert and coffee. “Your brother. How old is he?”

  “Twenty-four.” He gives me a look. “You want to know why I’m the heir apparent, and he’s not.”

  “Yeah. Given how traditional your family is …”

  “Right, you’d think it would be him. It’s because Jordan doesn’t have the people skills. He’s highly intelligent, but he’s a numbers man. He’s one of the youngest, and most successful, hedge fund managers in the country.”

  “Still a good Dalton, then.”

  “Oh, yes. Jordan toes the line. His fiancée, Katie — who’s also my roommate — is one of my best friends. Her family and mine go way back; her grandfather was my grandfather’s chief of staff.”

  I wish I could tell Katie everything that’s going on, and how hot my fake boyfriend is. She knows about my kindergarten-teacher rebellion, and she’s kept that secret … but now that she’s engaged to my brother, her loyalties are divided, and I don’t want to put her in a difficult position.

  I’m distracted from my thoughts by a swirl of color. A tall, gorgeous woman in a silky dress bends down to kiss Enzo on the cheek. “Cousin. Introduce me to your delightful friend.”

  I feel like the plainest Jane who ever lived compared to this extraordinary person. “Delfina, this is Lucy Dalton. Lucy, my cousin Delfina.”

  “Your food is amazing,” I tell her.

  Her response is a warm, breathtaking smile. “Thank you. I’m so glad you came tonight. Enzo, I’ll see you soon.”

  She swirls away again and I say, “No wonder she has trouble dating.”

  Enzo arches one dark eyebrow. “Meaning?”

  “She’s a goddess. Most men must be terrified of her.”

  His eyes warm. “You’re right. She says the only men she doesn’t intimidate are the ones she’s related to.”

  Our waiter brings the check, and Enzo takes it. “We should split it,” I say.

  “Babe.” I get tingles again. “No man worth his salt would let his fiancée pay for a meal.”

  “Your traditional side is showing. Also, we’re not really engaged.”

  “Not gonna apologize for believing a man should take care of his woman.” The way he says it makes my breathing go shallow. “And on the off chance that word about this gets back to your family, we need to look the part.”

  He’s right about that. “Keep track of your expenses. You can bill me for them when we’re done.”

  The look he gives me then makes every cell in my body stand at attention. “What?” I ask, nerves quivering.

  “Keep talking like that, you’re gonna end up over my knee.”

  My mouth works soundlessly as heat floods my core and my panties go damp. “You … can’t … say things like that,” I manage at last.

  “Pretty sure I just did.” He stands and holds my chair. “Come on, I better get you home.”

  He takes my hand for the walk back to his car. It feels like there’s an electrical charge running from his body to mine, right down between my legs. And then, while he’s helping me up into the passenger seat, he casually puts his hand on my ass.

  Only for a moment, but it sends another jolt through me. I make the drive to my apartment with my panties soaked.

  Enzo walks me to my door. I haven’t said much since the restaurant, my thoughts — not to mention my body — too turbulent. When we reach my apartment, I look up at him and wonder what to say.

  Thanks for the fake date. Especially the part where you threatened to spank me. And don’t you dare ever do it again, or I might orgasm on the spot.


  “We better practice,” Enzo says, and it takes me a second to realize he’s talking about kissing me goodnight.

  “Yes. Right. Good idea.”

  He lowers his head, and I think I’m ready when his mouth settles on mine.

  I’m not.

  For about half a second, it’s soft and gentle — and then my whole body lights up like a Christmas tree, and the kiss goes supernova.

  I try to wrap myself around him, his hand cradling the back of my head as he takes us deeper. He drinks me down like I’m sweeter than candy, and when he lifts me with both hands under my ass, my legs lock around his waist.

  Enzo pins me against the side of the building, kissing me like it’s the last thing either of us will ever do. The skirt of my dress is hiked up around my waist, his erection’s grinding against my clit, and I’m making frantic animal sounds into his mouth.

  His hands knead my ass, and then he switches to holding me up with one hand (which makes me even wetter, realizing just how strong he is), and his other hand pulls my panties aside a second before his thumb finds my clit.

  My shock that this is happening at all — let alone outside, where anyone could walk by and see us — is not enough to block my body’s response. He’s still kissing me, his tongue in my mouth, and now his thumb is moving, circling, pressing my clit in time with his tongue, and I’m powerless to hold back the climax bearing down on my like a freight train.

  Enzo swallows my screams as I come, and he’s not finished with me. His thumb’s still moving, relentless, sending me up again, and again. He makes me come until I’m too sensitive and grab his wrist, and even then he doesn’t put me down.

  His hand goes under my ass again, and he nuzzles my ear. “Your roommate home?”

  “Yes.” I know what he means, what he’s asking. He wants to fuck me. Because after what we just did, and with a man like him, that’s what it’d be. Fucking.

  I’m not sure if I’m sorry or relieved that Katie is asleep in her room, an unwitting obstacle to us going farther than we already have.

  “Lucy.” I don’t meet his eyes. Now that the afterglow is fading away, I’m stunned and ashamed. “Lucy Dalton, look at me.”