Kidnapped By The Italian Mafia

"Leaving already?" The receptionist faced us with a practiced look of disappointment. We both knew better than to act nonchalant, so Henri tightened the hand he had resting around my waist, placing another one on my hip from behind me. His grip on me, coupled with his breath hitting my neck made me blush furiously and I pretended to push him away.

"It was a wonderful party." I tried to say, quickly cut off by Henri pressing himself against my back. His lips against my neck stretched and I could tell he was smirking, the sly bastard. "Do let me know if there are any more get-togethers like these."

"O—of course." The receptionist cleared his throat and gave us a knowing smile. "Have a good night."

We were already heading up the stairs by the time we responded with a breathless "bonne nuit!"

We rushed up the stairs giggling and trying not to trip over ourselves to make it look believable. All the way to the entrance, we passed the guards at the door with our hands roaming all over each other just as another couple walked through the door.

It took everything in me not to stop short because what the f.u.c.k was Salvador and Annaliz Montenegro doing at this party?

I ducked my head into Henri's c.h.e.s.t and he dipped his head to pretend to whisper in my ear as he opened the door. I was acutely aware of my father's gruff presentation of his surname and tried to resist turning around to stare at him while Henri stopped the taxi they had used to get here.

We quickly slipped in, and as soon as the car was far enough of away from the building, I pulled away from Henri slightly to whisper into his ear.

"Pull me onto your l.a.p and kiss me."

The words hadn't travelled further than his ear, I knew that for sure, and the man g.r.o.a.n.e.d for added effect as he pulled me onto his l.a.p, hands on my h.i.p.s firmly holding me down.

He rasped out the name of our hotel before pulling my face to his and connecting our lips.

It was acting. It was. Truly and fully acting. So then why the hell was d.e.s.i.r.e tugging at my belly, sharply reminding me of how long it had been since I'd gotten laid?

It had been close to a year since my disappearance, and even longer than that since any action had come through the barrier of my knickers. This heat allowed me to really get it going with my butler, and before long, my hands were grasping the seat when he pulled my h.i.p.s down in a grinding motion on him.

I'm sure he'd meant to fake it, but the contact I'd made with his bulge through our clothes was more than real.

F.u.c.k me, it actually felt amazing. And what's the worst that could happen if we slept together for sake of appearances? Spies did it all the time. This could be a life or death situation, we needed to fool everyone.

"Something's wrong." I said breathlessly against his lips. Only he could hear me. It took him a second to respond as he started kissing me again, hands trailing down to my t.h.i.g.hs and fingering up my dress. Then it was like he snapped out of it. He pulled away, but my fingers didn't let him go very far as I kept his face in place so that it looked like we were still making out. "Keep going with your hands."

"What?" He frowned, confused, but continued trailing up my dress until his hands clutched my a.s.s. I kissed him again, sticking my h.i.p.s back to give him access to me, all for the sake of appearances, of course.

"The taxi." Was all I managed to get out before I was basically attacking him again, and be was responding with equal fervour. We kept this up until the taxi stopped in front of our hotel, and for extra effect, we acted like it took us a while to notice. That was, until the driver barked out the fare.

We didn't disconnect. Instead, mouth still on his, I fumbled with my clutch and pulled out a random note, flinging it back at the driver as Henri pulled open the door and shuffled out, carrying me with him.

He set me down just as the door closed, and the car drove away immediately. We walked into the hotel, still in each others arms and clumsily made our way past the front desk, where the receptionist was watching us with wide eyes. The moment the elevator doors closed us in, the act stopped.

We were both breathless, to say the least.

"That car," I started, running a hand over my hair to try and compose myself. "It most likely wasn't a real taxi."

"How do you know that?" He wasn't looking at me, probably to avoid awkwardness.

"My father has never taken a public transport vehicle in his life, much less to go to a soirée such as that one. The driver was probably one of his men in disguise to keep up appearances."

"That seems like a lot of trouble to go through… and for what? Did he know you'd be there?"

"I highly doubt it. I left a paper trail for him to follow and thanks to our performance, he didn't see our faces. If anything, he's there looking for my cousin."

Oh shit…

"What? You're pale."

"I got tickets from Juan-Carlos, and now there's a fifty percent chance he'll let that information slip."

"F.u.c.k." He ran a hand through his hair, disturbing it from its slicked back do. "What now?"

The elevator dinged on our floor, and I waited until we were safely in our room before saying anything.

"Now, we wait." I flopped down on the bed, suddenly exhausted. "I want you to go back to Saint-Étienne soon. I'll direct some people your way if it comes to it, but I need to make sure that my haven is safe."

Henri sat on the bed and turned, looking down at me sternly. "How many times must I tell you no?"

"As many as is necessary. It's not safe for you."

"It's less safe for you." He insisted. "I'm your right hand man. Unless there's a mission for me elsewhere, I'm not leaving you. I don't trust anyone else to protect you life."

A sigh left my c.h.e.s.t at that. He was serious. I couldn't force him to leave me.

"Fine, but if Salvador kills you for real next time, I tried to save you."