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I glance up to the front of the jet, where the pilots are doing cross checks. The air hostess is preparing drinks in the galley. Burley and three other bodyguards are sitting down, flanking us. It’s our jet and these are all our regular staff but trust only runs so far—nobody but my closest inner circle can know what’s really happening here.
I sit down next to her and reach for her hand. It’s willing and limp in mine. Her head lolls to the side and she tries to focus, slumping against me. “Matteo,” she sighs. “You’re here.”
“Yes, kitten.” The dose might have been a tad high. I lean closer, my lips at her temple. “Almost forgot the most important part.” I reach into my inner pocket and pull out three rings, putting mine on first. I waited for the right moment to slip hers on her finger. Firstly, my brothers would give me hell if they knew I took these out of the family vault. Secondly, this hellion would toss a million dollars of diamonds out onto the runway if she had a second to spare. Now I get to slip them on her ring finger, and she doesn’t even resist.
She holds up her hand and watches in drugged fascination as the diamonds sparkle in the overhead lights.
“You spoil me,” she murmurs, a smile playing on her lips. “For someone you plan to whore off in a few days’ time.”
There’s my fire eater. And she’s not completely out of it yet. “I see the idea is growing on you. Don’t get any ideas, kitten,” I say softly. “Where we’re going, they’ll cut your finger off to get those rings and ask questions later. If they ask them at all.” Also, and this is something she doesn’t need to know, but these rings are a type of insurance for her, should things go wrong.
Not that I plan for them to go wrong, but I’m not stupid. This trip has risks. Once we’ve landed in Catania, things are going to happen fast. The one good thing about Randazzo is that he’s old. Like my father, he’s gotten this far by killing those who stood in his way. There’s enough bad blood between Randazzo and his subjects that most of them want him dead. Handy to know if you’re planning a coup.
Tasha’s head bobs. She’s too short to get comfortable and the bucket seats won’t allow her to rest her head on my shoulder. I suppress the urge to stroke that soft cheek. The captain comes over and makes sure we’re ready for takeoff. I give him the go-ahead and half an hour later we’re in the air.
Once we’ve reached altitude, I stand, unbuckle Tasha from her seat and gather her in my arms. The jet has a separate bedroom cornered off with a bathroom en suite. It’s excessive luxury for a plane we rarely use outside of the US, but now I love the privacy and comfort.
Burley stands and goes ahead to open the bedroom door for us. “You’re good, boss?”
“Yes. We’re not to be disturbed.”
Burley nods and the door closes behind me with a click.
I lay her down on the bed and make sure her head isn’t in a funny position. She looks rather angelic like this, but I know she has twin devils sitting on her shoulder. I like it more than I should. I like messing with her more than I should too.
She’s just merch.
Merch that’s going to give me a hard time if I don’t keep her in line.
Time to mess with my kitten’s head.
I take her shoes off and place them next to the bed. Then I lift the skirt of her dress, loving the look of the panties I chose for her on that sweet pussy. It’s all mesh and no gusset, showing off her skin and the tip of her slit. The waistband has got white flowers embroidered along the edge, short stems leading the eye south. Yep. I’m a pervert. I want to touch her, pleasure her again like the other night, and my cock is all for it, but she’s too drugged to even notice. There’s zero fun in that.
Instead, I hook my fingers around the hips of her panties and gently tug them off. She moans, a wasted protest. I press her panties to my nose, disappointed when there’s only the slightest hint of her essence on them. Fuck it.
I pocket them and lower her skirts so that she’s decent. For now.
I smirk. Nothing like a virgin arriving in a foreign country where there’s a bit of coastal wind on the tarmac, realizing that she’s naked underneath that skirt that could fly up like Marilyn Monroe’s under a New York City subway vent.
She’ll be too conscious of it to do anything but keep her skirts pressed down.
Satisfied that I now also have the perfect gag on hand should she actually need one, I go back to the cabin to fetch my laptop bag. For a moment I consider sitting down at a desk to work, but then decide against it. Someone needs to keep an eye on her and none of these bodyguards are getting close to her sleeping, half naked.
I go back to the bedroom, kick off my shoes, strip to my white dress shirt and roll up my sleeves. I settle next to her on the bed, lounging back like a lazy dick who works from bed. Her head is right there by my hip, her hair spread like a silky invitation. She’s a distraction I can’t afford.
With a grunt I open my laptop and the WiFi connects automatically. My email is already open, and I glance down the new messages in my inbox. There’s the usual pile of junk from people I’m going to ignore, but Dominic’s one-liner pops out like a stab in the eye in all caps:
SHE’S FUCKING MERCH, YOU DICKHEAD. WE DON’T TOUCH THE MERCH.
You’re fucking hard for her, brother. Don’t go soft. She’s going to be the death of you. I’m still pissed you’re doing this alone. Phone me.
I don’t bother to reply.
26
TASHA
I blink. I’m sunk into a cloud, my head heavy, but the tapping on a keyboard doesn’t sound like an angel chorus to me. I open my eyes. Matteo. Right here, my face almost pressed to his thigh where he’s sitting next to me.
