Chapter 6

The moment he released her, Maria pushed herself back, stumbling as her heel caught in the carpet. He watched dispassionately as she righted herself. Her heart was pounding at the confusing mixture of fear and desire warring within her. She wanted to grab her purse and run from the room. She didn't think she would get very far, but she had to try.

She edged around the back of her chair, reaching down to snatch up her purse. "This was a mistake," she said, her voice husky with a hint of a quiver to it. "I need to go."

As she reached the door and lifted her hand to the latch, his voice stopped her. "You think that's a good idea?"

She glanced over her shoulder and let out a bitter laugh. "None of this was a good idea, Mr. DeLuca. Not my being in America, Las Vegas, this casino or your room."

Her hand hovered against the door, every fibre of her being screaming at her to run away and not look back. But something held her. His next words echoed her hesitation.

"What happens if you leave here without doing your job?"

Her job. As in, seduce and set up Niccolo DeLuca for blackmail. She sighed and turned around, her back still against the door. She knew what would happen. She wasn't naive or stupid, and Franco had been explicit in his details. Still, Nic had to remind her.

"Let me tell you what happens if you leave," he said, walking slowly toward her, like a shark circling its next meal. "Your brother dies because he is no longer any use as a bargaining chip and Delgado will need to show you that he is not to be fucked with. Once your brother is dead, you are more likely to fall in line."

He stopped right in front of her. The hard wood of the door pressed against her length as she pushed back against it. His gaze, his very presence was hypnotic in a dark, disturbing way. He picked up her hand and drew her back into the room. She went with him because he was right, she didn't have a choice. They stood together in the middle, him looking down at her while she stared back, heart hammering, palms sweating and the desperate need to run still strong within her.

"What do you think he'll do to you if you fail to seduce me?" His tone of voice suggested he didn't really care about her answer. Perhaps because he already knew.

She licked her lips, her eyes darting away from him. She shrugged.

"He'll have you raped and beaten until your pretty face has been destroyed, then put you to work on jobs where you'll have far less opportunity to embarrass him."

She shuddered and swallowed hard, a lump lodged firmly in her throat. He was right. Franco himself had spent the week telling her what he'd love to do with her once he got his hands on her. She wasn't sure why he was waiting until after the DeLuca job before he took her for himself. Maybe he thought Nic would know if she'd been touched. Which was stupid, at twenty-six she was no virgin. Personally, she didn't think Franco was capable of handling a woman like her. She'd bite his dick off if he put it anywhere near her.

"You're in a no-win situation, Maria. What are you going to do?"

Her eyes flashed to him as her temper ignited. "Don't pretend like you care!" she snapped, hands on her hips. "From what I've heard, you're an even bigger criminal than Franco. You got this all figured out, why don't you tell me what the plan is."

He chuckled, but the sound didn't hold any humour. It was dry and dark, like he was amused, but in a way that suggested he'd find her dead body just as amusing. "Yes, let's not play games. We both know that from the moment you stepped foot in my room you stopped having any choice."

She snorted. "From the moment I entered this city."

He nodded his agreement. Then his eyes sharpened. "Take your clothes off, show me what's worth being set up for."

She gasped and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fuck you."

"Now, now, little hellion. You prefer my wrath or Delgado's?"

She wanted to scream her frustration and storm from the room but knew that neither were options. The man before her was as much a killer as Franco, and she needed to salvage the situation as if her life depended on it, because it did. Her life and that of her brother's. This sinister man, a killer, was not someone to trifle with. She'd spent enough time around cartel to know when she was faced with a man that didn't play games. The fact that this one knew about Franco Delgado's plan and was still playing along told her something very important. He was playing an angle of his own and she was going to be the pawn.

She glared at Nic and tossed her purse aside. She reached behind herself, tugging on the zipper that held her flimsy dress together. It slid easily down her back. She dragged the straps down her shoulders and let the dress pool at her hips for a moment before allowing it to slide to the floor.

Maria was not a self-conscious woman. Not when she was wearing sweatpants and an old unwashed T-shirt and not when she was nude. She had no problem dragging the clothes from her body, including her bra and the scrap of material that barely qualified as panties. No, what she had a problem with was the way Nic was gazing at her. She was used to seeing lust, fire and want from the men who looked at her naked body. Instead she got nothing from this stone-faced Italian, except for a healthy dose of disdain.

She stood proudly, her arms at her side, her long dark hair swirling down her back. Franco had insisted she go to the spa before she was to meet Niccolo DeLuca. She'd been plucked, waxed, massaged and oiled. She knew she looked her best, yet not a single flicker of interest passed over Nic's face. He may as well be inspecting his grocery cart for all the attention he was giving her. Not that she thought Nic did his own grocery shopping. Of course, he would hire someone to do that for him. And why was she thinking about that anyway? Maybe imagining Nic in a grocery store helped distract from her current predicament.

"You're a beautiful woman," Nic observed, stepping closer and then circling her like the shark she'd previously likened him to.

"So I've been told," she snapped scathingly.

He stopped behind her and leaned until his breath fanned her bare shoulder, but he didn't touch her. "And you use your obvious sexuality to lure men?"

She turned her head to the side to look at him and immediately regretted it when her lips nearly brushed his. She leaned away as she spoke. "I don't need to use my body to get what I want. I have a brain and I know how to use it."

"Yet, here you stand before me, naked and ready to fulfill your side of Delgado's plan."

"I have no choice!" she snapped.

"We always have choices." His voice grew hard and icy, sending a shiver down her spine. So at odds with the heat his larger body was throwing onto hers, warming her back as they spoke.

Lifting her chin, she turned and faced him, staring boldly up at the Italian mob boss. She feared for her life, but she didn't think her words or actions were going to make much of a difference to this evening's outcome. Niccolo DeLuca looked like the kind of man that had his life well in hand and would be a few dozen steps ahead of his adversaries.

"I do not consider the life of my brother to be a trivial matter. When I say I have no choice except to be here, standing naked in your room, I mean it. I will do what it takes to keep him alive, even if it means fucking a monster."

He raised a brow at her bold, antagonistic words. Maria sighed inwardly, hoping she wasn't making a colossal mistake in showing this man exactly who she was. She wasn't a shy woman and she wasn't one to hold her tongue while men made decisions for her. She was banking on Nic being the type of guy to appreciate honesty over flirtation and subterfuge.

"A woman willing to martyr herself for the sake of family. How noble." His tone was not complimentary. "You will find I hold little value in such useless platitudes. Family is weakness."

"I pity your family then. Pity your woman."

"I haven't yet met a woman capable of holding my attention." His words were cold, but his tone of voice musing as his eyes flickered down her body.

She wanted to cross her arms protectively, to step away from him, give herself space. This was the strangest seduction she'd ever been part of. Usually when her clothes came off it was seconds before her back hit the nearest bed and maybe a minute or two if she was lucky before the whole thing was over. She'd yet to meet the man capable of satisfying her. Come to think of it, no man had actually held her attention for long either, not even Marc who couldn't stay sober long enough to keep up with Maria's life ambitions. She had something in common with the Italian.

She blew out a frustrated breath. "So what now? Are we going to fuck or do you want me to stand here and let you know when the air conditioning kicks in?"

His lips quirked and for the first time since meeting him she saw a fractional softening. "I would bet money that attitude has gotten you in trouble before."

"You have no idea."

"You'll have to watch it when you're around me. I'm not used to accepting lip from anyone, let alone a young woman. Nor am I used to reigning in my temper. If my fist flies, I will do nothing to stop the devastation that follows. Only the strong and the intelligent survive in this world."

His words held significant warning and she was going to take them to heart. Not that she intended to hang out with Niccolo DeLuca beyond this one evening. No, once they completed this... whatever it was they were doing, she was out. Out of the city, out of the state and as far away from the mafia as she could get.

He stepped toward her, lifting a hand to run the back of his knuckles down her cheek. "To answer your question, we will most definitely be fucking."