"Don't be a brat." Z's eyes rake me up and down. My stomach is fluttering thinking about later. "What are you wearing?" Ican’t tell if he’s saying that to give me a dig back or he really doesn’t care for the dress.
"You two." Mom shakes her head at us. "Come on." I let Mom take my arm again and head down the stairs with her. I peek over my shoulder to see Z right behind us, that glare still on his face.
Even his glares are sexy as hell. He changed into a pair of dark gray slacks and a white button-up shirt. I can faintly see a few of his darker tattoos through the shirt. The suit fits him perfectly, molding to his fit physique. An ache begins to form between my thighs, picturing exactly how he looks underneath that suit. I’m never going to make it through this entire dinner if I keep going down this road.
“Dad,” I call out when we enter the parlor. This is the only time the room is used. We use it for entertaining guests, both before and after dinner. It’s stuffy with uncomfortable furniture. It could have been plucked from the 1920s with its thick molding and oversized fireplace. Mom once told me that was by design so people didn’t linger too long.
"Sweetheart." Dad motions for us to come over. I walk over to him while observing everyone else in the room.
"Dad," I whisper into his ear after kissing his cheek. "What are you doing?"
"I came to see my daughter."
"Dad." I give him a look that tells him I'm not buying the bullshit he is trying to tell me. It's only a quick look because others are in the room, and I'm not going to be disrespectful in front of them, but he knows I'm annoyed.
“Come, I want to show my daughter off.” Dad puts his hand on my back, not giving me much of a choice. I see Z out of the corner of my eye. Oh, now I know why he’s pissed, and I’m worried for everyone in the room.
Thankfully, War and Tova enter the parlor. War is quick to lock in on Z, but he’s good at picking out the threats in a room.
“Cosima, you remember Mr. Amato,” my dad says as we approach the elderly gentleman.
“Of course. It’s lovely to see you again, Mr. Amato.” He leans in to kiss me on one cheek and then the other.
“Please call me Tullio. Mr. Amato makes me feel like an old man.” I smile to be polite. “I swear you look more and more beautiful each time I see you, Cosima. You definitely take after your mother.” I smile, knowing that comment has definitely bothered my father.
“Watch it, Tullio,” my dad warns, making me giggle.
“Cosima, you remember my son, Salvatore.” Crap. I know what my father is doing. I clocked it when I entered the room and saw who all was here.
No wonder Z is all bent out of shape. This is my father’s way of trying to nudge me toward finding a husband without forcing me. Little does he know that I already have a husband, so none of this is necessary.
“Pleasure seeing you again, Salvatore.” I reach my hand out in greeting, knowing there is no way in hell Z is going to allow Salvatore to kiss me.
“Call me Sal.” He takes my hand and begins to lift it to his mouth.
I don’t need to even look at Z to know he’s staring at us. I can feel his gaze on me like a physical touch. Maybe in this instance it’s more like a burning inferno threatening to end Salvatore’s life just for touching me.
Before my hand can reach his lips, there’s a loud crash, causing Salvatore to drop my hand. All of us turn to look around and realize that one of the servers dropped their tray. How convenient.
My gaze quickly goes to Z, who just so happens to be standing next to where the server went down. There’s no mistaking the look on Z’s face. I need to navigate this situation carefully, or Z is going to out us.
Usually, I would be a brat about all of this and try to needle Z. I would play up the whole Salvatore thing to ruffle Z’s feathers and make him jealous. I bet that would get me one of those spankings. But even I know there’s a time and a place for such things. This is not it. Another man flirting with me is not a joking matter. I know for damn sure I wouldn’t like it if the shoe were on the other foot.
I love you,I mouth over to Z with the smallest movement of my lips as possible.
My only plan tonight is to make sure everyone here makes it out alive.
Chapter Twenty
Z
Inever thought of myself as bloodthirsty. That tends to be Ronan, but right now I’m salivating to draw blood, and Salvatore Amato isn’t the only man that I want. It would be so easy to pull out the gun I have strapped to my ankle and take out three of these asses, all of whom have their eyes on my wife.
“Z.” War shoves a scotch into my hand. “Drink it,” he orders. I toss it back. It’s not enough to get me drunk or give me a buzz, but it might relax me. At least that’s War’s thought process. It’s not going to work. I’m already wound too tight.
“What are the odds that the Amato family happened to be in the same little town that Cosima had been in and are now here?”
“I was wondering the same.” Now both War and I are fixed on Sal, as he often refers to himself.
