Shadow Keeper (Shadow #3)

She went out the door ahead of Giovanni, going toward the back exit that led into the employee parking lot. She wished she had a car so that she could just drive away, but she’d taken the bus because she couldn’t afford a car. She kept her head down, even when he rested his palm against the small of her back. She felt the heat right through her thin tee. That heat radiated out from his hand and spread through her body, moving like slow molasses, heating her blood until it sang with need.

She tried to outwalk his touch, but he had much longer strides than she did. Overhead lights cast numerous shadows around the lot while illuminating the cars. She stopped, uncertain of where she was going. That was a terrible mistake. He curled his arm around her waist and guided her toward the low-slung Aston Martin in the VIP-only section for family right in front.

The moment his arm was around her, heat went up a thousand degrees in her deepest core. Maybe other women wanted him for his money, but they were crazy if that’s what they were thinking about. Her body went into total meltdown. There was no controlling her reaction to him. It was as if two sticks of dynamite collided and detonated together. The rush was almost beyond her ability to control.

She felt his breath hitch in his lungs, just for a moment. His arm tightened around her and he kept walking, holding her upright. Her knees weakened, so she was grateful for his strength. On the asphalt, she could see their shadows had come together, connecting with all the other shadows in the parking lot.

Giovanni opened the door for her, and she slid in without a murmur. She couldn’t trust herself to speak, and she was very happy he had to let her go in order for her to get inside the car. The leather felt like soft butter against her arms and, when she sank back into it, felt as if it molded around her yet was firm enough on her back. She concentrated on doing up the seat belt while he slipped into the car, to keep from having to look at him. She was still trying to control her breathing and the scorching need that wasn’t letting up.

“You live above Masci’s deli, right?”

How did he know that? Yeah, she worked for him, but did the Ferraros vet every employee of each of their many businesses? The manager had been talking to him, so maybe he’d said something. Did it matter? “Yes.” She sounded a little curt and tried to soften it with a small smile.

“Petrov’s is still open. It’s pizza, but in my defense, it’s very good pizza. I’m not being cheap. If you’d rather go somewhere else, we can.”

“Every single person I’ve talked to since I moved into my apartment has mentioned Petrov’s Pizzeria. I haven’t been there yet, but it’s on my list,” she admitted.

“Your list?”

“I make lists.” Her mother had made lists. She couldn’t help smiling at the memory. The lists had been everywhere in their house as she grew up. Now, they were everywhere in her house.

“Lists? As in plural?” There was a tinge of amusement in his voice.

She glanced at him, but he didn’t look like he was making fun of her. “I make lists about everything. It keeps me on track, although I have to admit, I ignore the lists I don’t want to do until it’s almost too late.”

“Such as …” he prompted.

“Buying a car. I’m not wild about the idea of driving in the city. I’m a country girl. I grew up on a ranch, and we didn’t have traffic jams. If we actually stopped at a stop sign, we complained about it.” And she didn’t want to spend the money. She didn’t want to have to take a single cent and put it aside to buy a car. She was grateful Chicago had buses.

“What kind of ranch?”

“Cattle. We had a big spread and all of us worked, Mom, Dad, my older brother and me. We had a couple of seasonal hands, but for the most part, it was just the four of us. Sometimes only three if Sandlin had to work away from home to bring in cash for the ranch. That happened some years, then it was essentially my dad and me working the cattle by ourselves.”

“Sounds nice,” Giovanni said. “My family works closely together, and we like it that way. My sister-in-law, Francesca, is a wonderful cook. So is Taviano, my youngest brother. He was there tonight with me. One of my favorite things to do is to get together with my brothers and sisters—meaning Emmanuelle, my sister, and Francesca and Mariko, my two sisters-in-law—and have dinner together. It’s loud and crazy, but it’s always fun.”

She couldn’t help but be surprised. She pictured him in five-star restaurants every night. “I only have the one sibling. Sandlin. He’s eight years older than me, but we were always really close. My dad doted on me, but Sandlin did as well. I think they spoiled me rotten. I went hunting and fishing with them, out with the cattle, camping at night, just about everything. When I had school dances, my dad and mother chaperoned every single one.” She laughed at the memory. “It wasn’t like I was ever going to get any action with the two of them breathing down my neck. If a boy did ask me out, my dad was like one of those old-school fathers you hear about, he’d take out his guns and clean them in front of my date. If it wasn’t them, it was my older, very scary big brother.”

“What happened to them?”

She looked at him sharply, the smile fading from her face. “How do you know something happened to them?”

“You’re here, not there. There’s so much love in your voice, I can’t imagine you moving away from them and the ranch. You wouldn’t leave them when you would think they needed you the most.” His tone was very matter-of-fact.

She was such an idiot. Why would she think Giovanni Ferraro was interested in her just because he knew where she lived and now this? “My father got cancer. It was a long road.”

With only Sandlin and Sasha to do the work on the ranch, the bills piled up so fast they couldn’t pay them all. There was no way to sell off enough land or cattle to pay those bills.

“Just when the doctors told us Dad was in remission, he and Mom were killed in a car accident on the way home from their first dinner out in over a year.” She swallowed hard. “Sandlin was driving, but he wasn’t at fault. The other driver was drunk. She claimed she swerved to avoid deer, sideswiped them and sent them careening off the road into rock.”

“I’m so sorry, Sasha. It’s strange to say those words to anyone who suffered loss. They’re meant, and yet they don’t convey what’s really heartfelt. I lost my father a few months ago. We weren’t close the way you and your parents and brother were, but it still hurt. I think about all the things I didn’t say to him, or he didn’t say to me, and there are so many regrets. I hope you don’t have those. I hope your times with your parents and brother were good and the memories are beautiful ones.”

“They are. I’m sorry about your father.” She was learning quite a bit about him in the short ride to Petrov’s. She should tell him Sandlin was still alive, but she didn’t want to talk about her brother. In spite of the strange connection she felt with Giovanni, she really didn’t know him that well, and that was a long, sad story.

He pulled the Aston Martin into a parking slot and turned off the engine. She realized she thought of the sound as purring. The engine purred right before it went off. She couldn’t afford one, but she was a little in love with the car. By the time she had the seat belt off, he was around the car, her door opened and his hand was extended. How did he do that? She’d looked down for one or two seconds and then up and he was standing there. He was fast, or she was slow. Either way, she had to take his hand or look churlish.

Giovanni closed the door behind her and, retaining possession of her hand, walked her through a back entrance provided for locals. She didn’t want to make a scene by pulling her hand away, so she walked with him, trying to keep space between them. Even this late at night, and it was late, nearly two in the morning, Petrov’s was crowded. Heads turned toward them, and she found herself the center of attention.

“Why is everyone staring at us?” she asked. She was fairly certain she knew. Giovanni Ferraro was a big deal. He was gorgeous. Wealthy beyond most people’s dreams. He was probably part of some dangerous underground crime syndicate, or maybe an aboveground one. He owned their part of the city for blocks and blocks. For all she knew, he owned the building they were in as well as the apartment she rented.