Shadow Rider
Page 65
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Pietro glared at Joanna and then shook his head adamantly. Joanna sniffed and then stifled a sob.
Francesca put one palm against Stefano’s abs on the inside of his open coat and shoved. Hard. Nothing happened. He didn’t budge, nor did he look down at her. “Stefano . . .”
He glared down at her. “Enough. This is between Pietro, Joanna and me.” Once again he looked at her boss. “She’s staying with me in the penthouse, but while she is working Emilio or Enzo will be close. I want her safe, Pietro.” His voice dropped an octave. “Do you understand what I mean by ‘safe’?”
Pietro nodded.
“At some point in the future I expect you’ll receive a visit from a couple of men who will tell you all sorts of tales about Francesca. When you don’t fire her, and you won’t, they will return and threaten you. The moment these men contact you, no matter what they say, I expect you to immediately, and by ‘immediately’ I mean that instant, report to me. Personally, Pietro. Have I made myself clear?”
Pietro nodded so hard and so much that Francesca feared his neck would break.
“Good.” Stefano dropped the iron bar of his arm, but turned his head and brushed another kiss along her temple. “Text me, Francesca. I won’t be happy if you forget.”
“We all endeavor to make you happy,” she murmured softly, and smiled innocently up at him.
He shook his head, his blue eyes glittering with a promise of retaliation, and her stomach did a slow roll in anticipation. He turned his head toward Joanna. “I trust we will see you at the club Friday night, Joanna. Emmanuelle said you’d be there.”
Joanna nodded. “I’m so sorry, Stefano.”
He studied her pale, splotchy face. “You fucked up, Joanna. You also apologized for it and it’s over. We’re good.”
Instantly a smile broke out, lighting Joanna’s face. Francesca wasn’t certain what she’d done to apologize for, but evidently when Stefano said it was over, Joanna must have known him well enough to believe whatever was between them was gone. Her smile said it all.
Stefano caught Francesca under the chin and turned her face to his. “I’ll pick you up after work. If not me, one of my brothers or my sister or a cousin.”
“I can walk.”
Swift impatience crossed his face. His eyes darkened. “Don’t piss me off, Francesca. Someone will be here.”
She gave an exaggerated sigh. “Can you please try to tone down the bossy?”
His smile was slow in coming, but when it did, her stomach did a slow roll. “I’ll try, just for you, but I wouldn’t count on it, dolce cuore.” He brushed his mouth over hers. A brief contact, but so hot, embers found their way to her belly. “Later, bella. Be good.”
Stefano was gone, striding from the store with his fluid, easy way, which made him look like a cross between a fighter and a dancer. He flowed over the ground, his long coat billowing around his legs as he made his way to the car. Francesca watched as those on the sidewalk stopped to look at him or stepped aside to make room for him. He didn’t ever have to pause. The crowd parted like the Red Sea for him. He waved to a couple of people, but he didn’t stop. He slid into his car and even traffic seemed to obey, allowing him to pull in immediately.
Francesca turned to Pietro. “What was that all about? You aren’t responsible for me, no matter what Stefano says. Seriously, Mr. Masci, I’m just grateful that you gave me this job.”
“No, no, Francesca. You’re a good worker. The best. I have no problem with you. Stefano Ferraro asked a favor of me, and I said I would do it for him and I let him down. I won’t again.”
She bit her lip, studying his face. “I don’t want you to think you’re in any way responsible for me. I’m a grown woman.”
“No, no, Francesca, you don’t understand what a great honor and privilege it is for one of the Ferraros to ask a favor of me. Since you’ve been working for me, they drop by, all of them, cousins, siblings, all of them. In my store. Daily. I’ve always done a good business, but it is up over 100 percent since you began and that’s only a couple of days. It will grow even more.”
Francesca wasn’t certain what to say to that. She glanced over her shoulder at Joanna. “Let me put my coat away, hon, and I’ll be right out. I’ve got a few minutes before I have to clock in and we can talk.” She wanted to know what had Joanna so upset and Stefano declaring it was over the moment Joanna apologized to him.
As she hung up her coat, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her lips still looked a little swollen from the very hot, very hard and aggressive kiss. She touched her mouth with trembling fingers. She’d almost gone up in flames, just spontaneously combusted right there in the elevator.
Francesca put one palm against Stefano’s abs on the inside of his open coat and shoved. Hard. Nothing happened. He didn’t budge, nor did he look down at her. “Stefano . . .”
He glared down at her. “Enough. This is between Pietro, Joanna and me.” Once again he looked at her boss. “She’s staying with me in the penthouse, but while she is working Emilio or Enzo will be close. I want her safe, Pietro.” His voice dropped an octave. “Do you understand what I mean by ‘safe’?”
Pietro nodded.
“At some point in the future I expect you’ll receive a visit from a couple of men who will tell you all sorts of tales about Francesca. When you don’t fire her, and you won’t, they will return and threaten you. The moment these men contact you, no matter what they say, I expect you to immediately, and by ‘immediately’ I mean that instant, report to me. Personally, Pietro. Have I made myself clear?”
Pietro nodded so hard and so much that Francesca feared his neck would break.
“Good.” Stefano dropped the iron bar of his arm, but turned his head and brushed another kiss along her temple. “Text me, Francesca. I won’t be happy if you forget.”
“We all endeavor to make you happy,” she murmured softly, and smiled innocently up at him.
He shook his head, his blue eyes glittering with a promise of retaliation, and her stomach did a slow roll in anticipation. He turned his head toward Joanna. “I trust we will see you at the club Friday night, Joanna. Emmanuelle said you’d be there.”
Joanna nodded. “I’m so sorry, Stefano.”
He studied her pale, splotchy face. “You fucked up, Joanna. You also apologized for it and it’s over. We’re good.”
Instantly a smile broke out, lighting Joanna’s face. Francesca wasn’t certain what she’d done to apologize for, but evidently when Stefano said it was over, Joanna must have known him well enough to believe whatever was between them was gone. Her smile said it all.
Stefano caught Francesca under the chin and turned her face to his. “I’ll pick you up after work. If not me, one of my brothers or my sister or a cousin.”
“I can walk.”
Swift impatience crossed his face. His eyes darkened. “Don’t piss me off, Francesca. Someone will be here.”
She gave an exaggerated sigh. “Can you please try to tone down the bossy?”
His smile was slow in coming, but when it did, her stomach did a slow roll. “I’ll try, just for you, but I wouldn’t count on it, dolce cuore.” He brushed his mouth over hers. A brief contact, but so hot, embers found their way to her belly. “Later, bella. Be good.”
Stefano was gone, striding from the store with his fluid, easy way, which made him look like a cross between a fighter and a dancer. He flowed over the ground, his long coat billowing around his legs as he made his way to the car. Francesca watched as those on the sidewalk stopped to look at him or stepped aside to make room for him. He didn’t ever have to pause. The crowd parted like the Red Sea for him. He waved to a couple of people, but he didn’t stop. He slid into his car and even traffic seemed to obey, allowing him to pull in immediately.
Francesca turned to Pietro. “What was that all about? You aren’t responsible for me, no matter what Stefano says. Seriously, Mr. Masci, I’m just grateful that you gave me this job.”
“No, no, Francesca. You’re a good worker. The best. I have no problem with you. Stefano Ferraro asked a favor of me, and I said I would do it for him and I let him down. I won’t again.”
She bit her lip, studying his face. “I don’t want you to think you’re in any way responsible for me. I’m a grown woman.”
“No, no, Francesca, you don’t understand what a great honor and privilege it is for one of the Ferraros to ask a favor of me. Since you’ve been working for me, they drop by, all of them, cousins, siblings, all of them. In my store. Daily. I’ve always done a good business, but it is up over 100 percent since you began and that’s only a couple of days. It will grow even more.”
Francesca wasn’t certain what to say to that. She glanced over her shoulder at Joanna. “Let me put my coat away, hon, and I’ll be right out. I’ve got a few minutes before I have to clock in and we can talk.” She wanted to know what had Joanna so upset and Stefano declaring it was over the moment Joanna apologized to him.
As she hung up her coat, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her lips still looked a little swollen from the very hot, very hard and aggressive kiss. She touched her mouth with trembling fingers. She’d almost gone up in flames, just spontaneously combusted right there in the elevator.
