Speak Easy (Speak Easy 1)

I did it a third time, and his fingers snaked up the back of my neck and fisted in my hair. We stared at each other, breathing hard and trying not to erupt with the madness boiling beneath our skin.

“Pull it,” I demanded. As I began rocking my hips, his fingers tightened at the back of my skull.

The faster I moved, the louder I sighed, the harder he pulled. Sharp needles of pain pricked my scalp, the perfect contrast to the unbearable pleasure that exploded in me at the very same moment.

I knew right then that I couldn’t stay away from him, no matter what the consequences.

And I knew there would be consequences.

Chapter Twenty

When I woke the next morning, Enzo was gone, but I could smell him on my skin. Bringing an arm to my face, I inhaled, and the scent put a smile on my lips and a flutter in my belly. I got out of bed and stretched, discovering I was sore—not only in the expected places, but in my stomach and leg muscles too. I located my underwear and chemise on the floor and pulled them on, wondering what time it was. Actually I wasn’t even sure what day it was.

In the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror and experienced the same giddy rush I had last night. The eyelet of my chemise was torn at one shoulder, but I had no idea when that had happened. My night with Enzo could be called a lot of things—fiery, explosive, passionate, shocking—but sweet and tender?

Nope.

I was surprised the thing wasn’t shredded completely.

Examining my reflection closer, I touched the bruise at my temple. It reminded me of Joey’s injury, and I swallowed hard, guilt slamming me like a fist in the gut. I had to deceive him into providing me with information for Enzo, and Joey didn’t deserve deception. I owed him Daddy’s life, and probably mine too. Squeezing my eyes shut, I exhaled slowly. Don’t think about that now. Figure out how you’re going to get your clothes from the next room and get out of here.

I went back into the bedroom and noticed an envelope had been slid under the door. When I picked it up, I shivered. It was identical to the one Enzo had handed me at the store last Friday afternoon. I tore it open.

Dear Tiny,

Your things will be delivered shortly by a maid. Your father is expected at one o’ clock today, after which you will be free to go and my driver will take you home. We should not be seen together in public, although I do look forward to seeing you again. You are mouthy and demanding, and your temper rivals Vesuvius, but so does your passion.

Until then,

Enzo

While I fumed at his backward compliment and the fact that I was still being held here against my will, I looked for something to cover up with. What would the maid think if I answered the door in a ripped chemise? I was thinking of wrapping myself in the sheet when I saw Enzo’s gray coat on the dresser. I shrugged into it, the sleeves hanging far below my hands, and the length sufficient to cover me nearly to the knee. Tightening it around me, I buried my nose in the collar and breathed him in. The sexy smoke-and-tobacco scent made me dizzy.

But my anger still simmered. Why should he be the one deciding when I could leave? And what did he mean, in public? That my company was welcome for a romp in his bed but not for a drink at his club? Go to hell, Enzo.

A knock sounded on the door and I heard it being unlocked, but no one entered. The knock sounded again. I rolled my eyes—this prisoner/guest business was wearing on my nerves. I opened the door and the same maid from yesterday brought in my dress and shoes, along with towels and toiletries. She laid everything on the bed and left without saying a word, for which I was grateful. Although she didn’t make direct eye contact, she had to have noticed I wore nothing but a man’s coat.

Banishing that thought, I washed up, brushed my teeth, and dressed. I wished I had a comb or even a hat, but I did the best I could with a little water and my fingers. When I was finished, I returned to the bed and sat. How long would I have to wait here? Drumming my fingers on the spread, I stewed that even after last night, Enzo still wouldn’t allow me to go. Was this any better than having a father who controlled my every move? On a whim, I tried the door, but it was locked from the outside.

Grimacing, I moved to the window. My car is still down there somewhere, I realized, although my keys were long gone. Harry had taken the money from my purse Thursday night, but who knew what he’d done with the rest of its contents? I shivered, recalling Harry’s death in the cabin—I’d seen some surprisingly gruesome things in nursing school, but nothing so immediate in its violence. And Raymond—what would he do now? He’d be furious with me and with Enzo, looking to get revenge. Would his father be able to rein him in? I turned from the window just as Enzo unlocked and opened the door.

Despite my anger, the sight of him still wound me up—had he gotten better looking overnight? His hair was perfectly coiffed, his collar tight, the bruise on his cheek not dark enough to mar his handsome face. “You know, you could knock,” I snapped.

A smile tipped his lips as he closed the door behind him. “You’re not happy to see me?”

I crossed my arms. “What are you doing here? I thought you were sending your driver for me, so we wouldn’t be seen together in public.”

He came toward me, detangled my arms and slipped his around my waist. “I couldn’t stay away.” His lips pressed to mine, setting my heart pounding, but I didn’t open my mouth. How badly I wanted to give in and fall back into bed with him, but this wasn’t the pattern I wanted to set. Our affair had to be secret, but he didn’t get to make all the rules, deciding how and when we could see each other.

I pulled back. “I’d like to go home now, Enzo. I haven’t been there since Thursday night. I need to let my sisters know it’s safe to return, and I want a bath and some new clothes.” Tilting my head, I added, “Or am I being too mouthy and demanding?”

He put his face in my neck and kissed my throat. “Mmmmm. You smell good. But a bath could be arranged.”

I twisted out of his embrace. “No. Not here.”

“Why not?”

Gesturing toward him, I said, “I see you’ve managed to get cleaned up—I don’t even have a comb, let alone clean clothes.” I pulled my navy dress from my body. “You do realize I was wearing this the night Harry kidnapped me. Is it too much to ask that I be allowed to change out of it?