Ria spoke first, leaning forward, confusion writ large on her lovely face. ‘Pappa, you knew?’Then Piers burst out, but his tone was tempered with anger.‘Then why…? Why did you make Mumma suffer?’Lucien sighed and looked away.‘Your Mumma is a soft hearted woman.’ he said his voice cool, ’She would only have felt sorry for that ba*tard.’She is still innocent and believes the best of everyone, he could have added but he did not.He sighed again noting the mutinous expressions on the faces of his eldest-born children, knowing that he had caused his Woman a lot of grief. But then, he was a man who saw the big picture.‘Your Mumma will understand when I tell her.’ he went on, confident of his Woman.‘You mean, you haven’t told her yet?’ shouted Piers, leaping up, his face red with anger.His fists clenched, and Piers glared at his father. How could Pappa have put Mumma through so much pain? There were times when he sorely hated his father, and this was one such time.They stared at eac
RiaShe walked out of the room, conscious of Philippe behind her. She could actually smell his strong fragrance, a woody, spicy fragrance. And of course, she was aware of his gaze on her, felt his eyes on her pert rounded behind and for the umpteenth time, she wished she had not chosen to wear her low slung, figure-hugging jeans. His hot gaze seemed to be sending prickles of awareness down her spine.‘Would you like to come with me?’ he asked politely enough, his deep baritone making her jump.‘Or I could arrange another vehicle for you…"The Capo had stopped walking and now stood close by, jangling his keys in a casual manner.Like hell you will, Philippe , she thought grimly.She stopped and turned to face him, her hair in a messy bun, long tendrils having escaped to caress her cheek as she whirled around crossly. and then wished she had not. He was too close for comfort, his hair tied back in a neat ponytail, the black eyes curious as they assessed her face.“What?’ she said, her v
RiaIt was a small place and the proprietor, a Sikh gentleman with his bright blue turban, looked up at them questioningly over the top of his spectacles, as they approached the counter.Only a handful of customers were around and Ria saw that there were just two assistants, probably, the owner’s family, she thought as she noticed the striking similarities between them.Philippe had stepped up to the counter, his cold expression making the older man freeze. The Capo was already speaking to him, authority resounding in his voice when Ria moved to stand beside him, feeling dwarfed by the big, muscular man beside her.’We are looking for Erin Dorsey. I was told he works here,’ stated Philippe without a preamble. The man behind the counter looked alarmed his eyes taking in Philippe’s dominating presence and dark jacket and well-dressed looks.“Erin? Is he in some trouble? Who are you? Are you from the police?’ The man was flustered and he kept wringing his hands as he gabbled.With a sigh
PhilippeThe store owner’s sons had moved closer. While the older one seemed hypnotised by the thrust of Ria’s full breasts under the T-shirt which clung lovingly to the swell of her youthful body, the other was looking at the Capo in earnest.It was the younger son, his face too young for him to be anything more than a boy, who spoke up.“I remember now!” he cried and his father turned to look at him in surprise.“ After that man came in last week, Erin was a little upset.’ piped up the younger son knowingly and Ria felt her heart sink.Philippe was immediately onto it.“And what did this other man look like?’ he queried in a silky tone.The young boy, perhaps around fourteen or so, looked scared now, as he realised he had said something very important but Ria poked her head around the Capo’s brawny body and smiled pleadingly. The young boy’s eyes flickered appreciatively and he said,‘He was thin, I think, wearing a black leather jacket and dark jeans. Dirty blonde hair. Ah, yes, he
El CapoHe was beside her in a stride, grabbing her small figure as she swayed, her hand at her mouth, the look of shock and terror a reflection of the image she would carry in her mind forever.The Capo swore roundly; he had not wanted to expose the lovely young woman he was holding in his arms, to the shocking spectacle of a dead man who had obviously been tortured brutally before he died.Paulo was beside her, his face white and shining with sweat though the night was chilly.‘ Capo, I could not stop her…’ he said and then,’ F*ck man!’ exclaimed the bodyguard as he saw the dead figure.The Capo grabbed Ria as she seemed about to collapse.“The f*ck you don’t obey orders, woman?’ he said through gritted teeth as he held her to him, her face buried in his chest, forcing her to look away from the terrible sight.“Philippe,’ she cried, weeping softly, shuddering at the sight of the man who had been tortured and left to die, the stench of the blood, the sights embedded in her brain maki
They had only covered a few miles when the phone rang. The Capo looked at the screen, his brows furrowing. It was a call from the Mafia Don.Swallowing, he attended the call.The Boss was curt.“How is she, how is my daughter?’ he asked in a clipped voice. No beating about the bush, thought the Capo, always straight to the point.He looked across at Ria who was leaning back in her seat, her feet curled beneath her, like a cat.He grunted and Lucien Delano understood. His daughter was beside the Capo and the young man did not want to upset her.The Mafia Don went on, grimly.‘The reports are that Paval and his men are getting to the place. Now.’He paused, breathing harshly as the words sank into the Capo’s head.‘I want you to stop at a safe place and rest for a few hours before getting back here. I shall be sending a few men who should be there in an hour’s time. But they might not get there soon enough.’Philippe’s mind worked overtime. The Don went on.‘Schwartz is sending you the
My lover pulled me into his arms and silenced my rising questions with a harsh kiss. I rested my hands against his chest, drawing comfort from his large bulk, his familiar presence. The feel of his expensive jacket under my hands, his mouth, hard and demanding as he kissed me, and the tangy smell of his body as he engulfed me in his arms.I had the distinct feeling that he wanted some sort of reassurance but what?With an arm around my waist, he turned to Claude and asked in his rasping, gravelly baritone,‘How do you feel, son?’Claude gaped at him. Lucien had never cared to ask about his wellbeing before this, even during occasions when Claude had been younger and getting into one scrape after another. Generally, he behaved as if Claude was part of the furniture, barely deigning to acknowledge his presence in private.So this query about Claude’s well-being was definitely an eye-opener for Claude. Quickly recovering himself, my son stammered, ‘I’m good Sir. I mean…’ he indicated his
ProserpinaMy voice had risen in incredulous anger.He grunted, not letting me go as I struggled within his grasp. Then I lost it. He had made me suffer for months and all along, he had been playing some sick game.*My fury, my rage were uncontrollable. Unable to control myself, I struck out with my hands, my nails raking his face and biting his wrists till he stepped forward and trapped my hands behind my back, forcefully but not hurting me. I stood, my belly pressing into his bulk, breathing fiercely as I spat out,“You SWINE! You…how could you?’ He moved to kiss me but I turned away, the tears of anger trickling down. I struggled futilely.‘Hellcat,’ he said, growling but his face was dark with passion. He pushed me gently, and I resisted as I saw that I had made him aroused.No, I told myself fiercely, THIS was not what I had bargained on.I would not let him take advantage of my feelings for him, my passion that could spiral out of control with just a touch from his large hands.