Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
The feeling of showing her around wasn’t dissimilar when I took my cousin Paolo’s kids on an outing. The only difference was that Allegra didn’t refer to me as Uncle Carmine the Giant.
But then I’d seen her in that dress, and everything changed. She wasn’t an excited little girl. She wasn’t a girl at all. The dress showed me that she was a woman—a woman with curves, and hips, and impossibly long legs showing through that slit.
My jaw had dropped, my cock had hardened, my blood had pounded in my veins. Yes, she’d looked nice at the engagement party, but nothing like today. Today, she was every inch a sexy, seductive, grown-up woman.
And a woman my brother was marrying. That was what I needed to keep in mind.
But instead, I kept visualizing what she’d looked like in that dress. I wanted to buy her one in every color so she’d wear them every day, which wasn’t a very wholesome thought to have about my future sister-in-law.
The elevator slid open, and I put my hand on Allegra’s soft arm, holding her back as my eyes scanned the room. She stayed put while I took a couple steps forward, my hand on the butt of my gun, but I detected no threat, and I waved her into the lobby.
No, the biggest threat was the fact that she no longer looked like a little girl to me.
That was a problem.
“Are we headed home?”
I gave her a smile as we crossed the lobby. “Unless you think you could eat some more pizza.”
She shook her head, looking a little disappointed. “It was so good, I honestly wish I could.”
“You’re in Chi-Town now. There’ll be more pizza, but you might have to sign an affidavit that it’s better than New York style.”
Her pink lips broke into a smile as she looked up at me. “It was one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten, but very different than New York. I don’t know if I could pick a favorite—it’s like comparing cats to dogs.”
“Dogs win.”
“I’ve never had either.”
I frowned at that. My dad had been all business, all the time, but even he’d let us have a dog, a scruffy spaniel he’d found abandoned outside of a warehouse in a seedier part of the city. The more I learned about Allegra, the more sheltered and innocent she seemed.
Although she sure as shit hadn’t looked innocent in that slinky dress.
“Thank you.” Her soft voice broke into my thoughts.
“For what?”
“For today. The tour. And the dresses.” She grinned. “And especially the pizza.”
“My pleasure, Allegra.”
She paused at the door, and I looked through the glass, scanning the streets. She waited patiently, probably used to this when her father’s bodyguards took her out. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“I’m not going back for breadsticks,” I said, my eyes still scanning outside.
“Would you call me Leila? Please?” She looked up at me, her dark eyes framed by impossibly long lashes. “It’s what my family calls me.”
It suddenly dawned on me that was what one member of my family called her, too. Stefano had been saying that since she arrived. “Sure, Leila.”
“Thank you.” The gratitude on her face got to me.
And made me want to make that shy smile stick around for longer. “You know, there is another shop up the street. We don’t have an appointment, but I bet we could get in.” The Moretti name meant something in this town.
Allegra—Leila’s—eyes lit up. “Could we?”
“Sure. It’s just a few blocks away.” I held the door for her, and we emerged onto the sidewalk.
“Can’t we walk?” she asked as I escorted her to the car, my eyes scanning every direction at once.
“Not this time.” And not without backup, but I didn’t tell her that. I held the door to the back seat open and was relieved when she climbed in.
“How about the subway, then?” she asked once I’d settled in the driver’s seat.
I nearly rolled my eyes when I checked the mirrors. “Our family’s not big on public transportation. Were you in New York?”
I watched the expression on her face change in the rearview mirror. “Yes. I took the subway all the time.”
Yeah, that sounded likely. “Really. How much did it cost, then?”
Her forehead wrinkled, and I nearly laughed. But then she piped up, “I don’t know, my father’s men always paid.” I had to admire how quick she was.
“Well, then, maybe someday you can show me how to ride it—but not today.”
“Okay.”
“By the way, it’s called the L here, not the subway.”
“Good to know.”
Leila left me alone while I searched for parking on the street. When we made it up to the dress shop, as I suspected, they were happy to work with us once they understood whose bride Leila was going to be.
To my disappointment—or possibly my relief, I wasn’t sure which—the manager of the shop didn’t let Leila show me the dresses. Probably that was a good thing overall, but it didn’t matter. I could still picture how fucking hot she’d looked anytime I wanted to.