Trapped By The Mafia Don

Scarlett

There are so many things I want in life. For many, it's all about money, possessions. I couldn't care less about billionaires, which is what every little girl seems to be craving, pumped up by romance novels that sling out words like 'taming' and 'breaking.' Of course, I've read my share of sizzling erotic books about dark and dangerous alpha men during lonely nights—red wine and a carton of ice cream my only solace. Passion. Love. Security. The three little words mean so much, yet there is no way I'll ever achieve them. I've given up on finding the right man, as if there really is such a thing. There's too much heartache in this world.

So, I work...

"Scarlet Scott. Is that really you? I can't believe you are actually joining me for a glass of wine. And in the middle of the day! The Martians must have landed in downtown Boone."

"Very funny." I rolled my eyes as I slid into the seat, dropping the various shopping bags. "So, I took a day off for a change." Granted, Emily was right. I hadn't allowed as much as a day to myself in almost eighteen months. Just trying to get the business up and running had taken every red cent I had in the bank, let alone the two bank notes. And the time needed meant eighteen-hour days with two different employers and working on ideas for my little slice of the pie.

But the combination cozy bistro and book shop was all mine. Bottega's Bistro and Books had a catchy ring, at least in my opinion.

"I'm so glad. How's everything going? Wait, before you tell me. Take a look at that hottie over there. Isn't he something special?" Emily leaned further over the table, licking her lips as she gazed at the other side of the café.

"Be careful, girl, you're drooling." However, the guy was sexy as hell and wore a pair of tight blue jeans like no one else I'd seen in Boone. Well, there had been a few I could have snacked on, rough-hewn men with washboard abs and sensual eyes. I'm not entirely certainly why I moved to Boone, North Carolina over three years before. I remember one tequila-filled night, a map in front of my hand and anger in my heart. Then I'd sold everything I owned and left less than a week later.

"Sugar, hold your tongue 'cause that's our waiter."

I adored Emily Granger and had literally almost run her over on the street the first day I was in town. The various curvy roads, and the lack of knowing where I was or what I was doing, I blamed for the near tragedy. After a few choice curse words on her part, she'd realized I was crying and offered a kick in the pants and a tall liquor. We'd been fast friends ever since. "Great. I'm leaving now."

She grabbed my hand as the tall buff blond sauntered to our table, his dancing blue eyes the color of the Aegean Sea. All I could think about was rolling in the white sandy beach, water lapping over our heated bodies as we kissed passionately, our tongues entwining. I could feel the heat rising on my face, dampness between my legs. I hadn't even kissed a man in so long, I was uncertain if I would freak out if it ever occurred again.

"Ladies. Welcome to Tulips on this beautiful summer afternoon. Can I start you off with some iced tea?" he asked, glancing from one to the other of us.

His eyes seemed to settle on my chest, or maybe the bright fuchsia shirt I'd selected, feeling a little bit jazzed this morning. Maybe the clingy attire wasn't the best choice, but given the slight bulge in between his muscular legs, I was a bit giddy. Even the slight county bumpkin twang was just about the most delicious accent I'd heard. Okay, so I could ride the man like a wild stallion. I wasn't necessarily proud of myself, but what the hell.

This was a ridiculous reaction given the fact I was almost twenty-seven years old.

"Wine. Lots of wine," I blurted out, catching Emily's gleeful look.

"That we can do. What kind would you like?" He inched closer to the table, pursing his kissable lips.

"Merlot." I don't even remember which bottle I selected, but after he left, making certain we were well aware that his name was Lance, I exhaled, feeling every ounce of tension release.

"I have a feeling you're going to have a sinful afternoon. A little wine, maybe some cheese. A big plate of hard cock."

"Oh!" My squeal managed to draw far too much attention, including Lance's grinning face turned toward us. I squirmed in the chair, my pussy clenching.

Laughing, she shook her head. "About time. You deserve a little TLC and relaxation. When's the big grand opening?"

"We're open but I am planning a big party next Friday. A band, food, drinks, the whole works. I even found a couple of writers from around here who will be in attendance." I heard the sound of my cell phone for the third time that day and I didn't have to bother to look to know who was calling.

My father.

He must have heard through one of his friends or perhaps gave enough of a shit to look at the store's website. I really didn't care. I'd left Chicago for college and after only two weeks back at his house, I left again. This time for good. I'd landed in Virginia, working for a real asshole for almost two years before throwing in the towel, almost returning home. The tequila had given me strength to find my dreams. Now, I hungered for a sinful fantasy, not being forced to deal with my father in any capacity.

"Do you need to get that?" Emily asked, giving me an evil eye.

"No. I don't." There was a gruffness to my tone, which didn't surprise me. Why did the man think he could interfere with my life? I wasn't going to forgive him any time soon, if ever. There wasn't enough room in my heart for that bullshit.

"Well, okay then. You need some wine. Lots of wine." She pushed the glass further in my direction.

"I'm sorry. Just my dad and I don't want to talk about him."

"I didn't even know you had a family. You act like you were hatched from an ancient bird." Emily fluttered her wings, laughing as she kept just out of my reach.

"You're quite the comedian today. I have a family. Well, sort of." As Lance approached, this time swaggering across the floor, showing sexy dance moves to the music, I allowed my concentration to settle on the fine-looking man. The beach scene was still in my mind, blue skies and our naked bodies lying together, limbs entwined, sand between our toes. If only a single fantasy could come true.

"Here you are, ladies. I took the liberty of bringing you some fresh fruit and cheese as well. I can tell you are celebrating life." He winked as he uncorked the bottle, allowing me to have the first taste. When he leaned over to pour, I inhaled his intoxicating cologne and there was no doubt I moaned. Out. Loud.

Shit.

Even Emily could barely contain her reaction.

"Perfect. Luscious and ripe," I said, regrouping. Until I noticed his face, the leer replacing his happy expression. This time, I wanted to crawl under the table. I had no poker face, no destiny to run major corporations. I said what I felt, and every emotion was right there like a massive black stain on whatever I was wearing. I was that girl, too sweet for her own damn good.

"I'm glad you appreciate, especially the finer things in life. I can see you are a woman who savors all things delicious, perhaps even a little wicked." His words were whispered, overtly sexual in the overtones. "I'll leave you two alone to enjoy, but remember, I am here for any of your needs."

Only after he walked away did I allow my very long breath to escape. I also grabbed my napkin, fanning my overheated face. At least I had the good decency to wait, instead of making a bigger fool out of myself.

"Hot damn is all I can say. I need to take some pointers from you. The last boyfriend I had was more like Jethro, and I don't mean Tull, if you know what I mean."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm so glad we're doing this."

"Then raise your glass, sugar. Let's toast to hot men and getting laid."

"Emily!"

"What? You want him as much as I do."