King of Diamonds (Vegas Underground 1)

I’m practically swoony by the time I’ve examined them all up close. “You should have these on display. Set up the Bellissimo Museum or something.”

Nico has his hands in his pockets. He’s standing back, observing me, like I’m the rare and valuable masterpiece. “I could. I’d have to invest in heavy security. Plus, then everyone and their brother knows how much wealth I have sitting around here.”

“True, but it could be a draw. It might set your casino apart as something really special The must-see of Las Vegas.” I gasp as an idea occurs to me. “You could make the whole place about art. Go with Italian artists and decorate the different towers in different periods.”

Nico’s eyes glitter and his lips curl into a smile. “That’s an idea, yes.”

He wraps the paintings back up, one by one and replaces them. When he takes my hand to lead me out, he says, “You really love them.”

My mouth falls open. “How can you not?”

He chuckles. “For me they’re just a different form of currency. A diversification of my portfolio. For you, they’re like—I don’t know—living beings.”

I laugh, because that’s exactly how I see art. “Yes. Incredible beings. They should be on display.”

He leads me back out to the elevator. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll set up a museum—redecorate the Bellissimo if you direct and curate it.”

I stop mid-stride. “Really? You’d let me curate?”

“Of course. Who the fuck else would I hire?”

I throw my arms around him because those paintings are already in my soul. Already calling to me, begging to be shown, to be celebrated. “Thank you. I’d love to.”

He smiles down at me. “You’re happy.” He sounds half-surprised, half-satisfied.

I kiss his stubbled jaw. “So happy.”

“Good.”

He takes me back up to his place, but when he opens the door, he ushers me in, but doesn’t close it. “I have work to do, but I want you to sleep in my bed tonight.”

He doesn’t ask. It’s an order.

“What if I say no?” I ask, testing.

He raises a brow. “Why would you?”

Good point. Why would I? Just to prove he doesn’t own me? Didn’t I just promise he did?

I guess I need to know how deep I’m in. Would he let me go if I said no? Or would he hold Tanner over my head? How real is this?

I take it back—I don’t want to know. I want to stick my head deep in the sand and enjoy what I have. An incredible new job opportunity.

And a man who thinks I’m the cat’s meow.

And the fact that he’s a dangerous criminal can just get swept under the rug for the moment.

“I don’t have my toothbrush here.”

Nico’s lips twitch. “I’ll have one brought up for you. I need to go and I don’t want you running around the casino by yourself.”

I roll my eyes and he cocks a stern brow. “Indulge me, cucciola mia. I need to know you’re up here keeping my bed warm with this hot little body.”

He pulls me against him and I melt into his hard-muscled form.

“What’s cucciola?”

“Pet. I called you my pet.”

That seems a fitting name for a woman he thinks he owns.

I swallow down my nerves. He respects me. He just created a dream job for me. I don’t need to be afraid.

Or do I?

Chapter 10

Nico

I enter my suite around five in the morning. Like every night this week, Sondra’s in my bed sleeping. Where she belongs.

My guys found the drugs in her car—a half pound of molly, which has a street value of more than $30K. They delivered it to her asshole ex with a mild beat-down and the warning to never contact Sondra again. Problem solved. I’m not even pissed anymore, because I got to be her hero.

I stand in the doorway and look at her, so beautiful, her expression sweet in slumber. If I were a decent man, I’d let her sleep. But I can’t fucking sleep until I’ve put my dick into her, so I take off my clothes and climb over her.

She murmurs something in her sleep, her knees parting to make room for me. My cock is harder than stone, already leaking for her. I’ve been waiting for this moment all fucking night, but I had three private games to manage that took my attention.

Sondra’s wearing a tank top and a pair of pink satin panties. I tug up her tank and feast on one nipple.

“Nico.” She weaves her fingers into my hair, her eyelids fluttering as she wakes.

I love hearing my name on her lips. I thumb her pussy over the triangle of silk covering it. “You’re wearing panties in my bed, baby.”

She smiles. “Oops.”

I pause for a beat, trying to work out if she means what I think she does. Last night, in a fit of filthy talk, I told her I expected to find her pussy bare when I come to bed.