Marrying the Mobster - Victoria Vale Page 0,54

from all the way over here,” Jovan teases. “Better get in there champ. I’m rooting for you. Don’t let me down.”

“Fuck off,” I grumble. But I still make my way to the stairs and step out of the pool, my sights set on Diego. I won’t admit it out loud, but Jovan is right. I have to keep Diego’s attention on me. It’ll make our ruse look more real, and also keep his mind off killing me and on fucking my brains out.

His attention snaps to me the moment I’m on dry ground, and he doesn’t look away as I select a towel from one of the baskets surrounding the pool and dry off. Nataly is still blabbering about something, but he isn’t paying her the slightest bit of attention. He sits up straighter in his lounger when I approach, putting on a wide smile.

“Having fun?” he asks, his voice deceptively light. I can see the tension running through him, the arousal pushing at the front of his pants.

“The water’s perfect,” I reply, climbing over him on the lounger. “You should come in with me.”

Diego stiffens when I drape myself over him, my legs falling between his and my hip pressing right against his crotch. I slip a hand into his open shirt and toy with the short, springy hairs peppering his chest.

He maintains his cool composure when I drop a kiss on the side of his neck, but every inch of him is stiff and coiled tight. His hand falls onto one of my exposed ass cheeks, and he gives it a squeeze.

“Maybe next time, gatita.”

Nataly clears her throat, and I sit up and give her my best ‘surprised’ face. “Oh, Nataly! I didn’t see you there. Love your suit. It’s very … cute.”

She narrows her cool blue eyes at me and forces a tight smile. “Thank you. I like yours, too. It’s very … edgy.”

“We are lucky men to be surrounded by such lovely women,” Oleg cuts in, seeming to want to dispel some of the animosity between me and his daughter.

“Indeed,” Diego agrees. His fingertips trail along my thigh and hip, and then his hand is beneath my breast again, cupping it possessively. “Baby, I hate to trouble you, but would you mind bringing me a beer?”

I get to my feet and give him a sly smile. “You only want to see me walk away.”

Diego smirks. “I’ve been caught.”

“You’re terrible,” I say with a shake of my head before walking away.

Once there’s some distance between us, I can breathe a little easier. I know how necessary it is for me to get close to him, but it always feels like hovering my hand over a bear trap. I never know how far is too far, or when he’ll snap around me with steel jaws.

The party is in full swing at this point, our lunch ready and laid out on the table. The kids and their mothers are sitting on blankets in the grass to eat, and some of the men have joined them. Drinks have been flowing the entire time, and lowered inhibitions have Diego’s men talking and joking with Oleg’s men like they’re all old friends.

“A beer and a daiquiri, please,” I say to the girl tending the bar. The air is cooler under the patio, so I lean against the counter to wait, enjoying a break from the humidity and scorching sun.

“I have to ask,” says a male voice from behind me. “Is that suit your own design?”

I turn to face Viktor, who looks like he just left the pool. He’s wearing only a pair of swim shorts and sunglasses. His blond hair is wet and hanging over his forehead, and his tanned chest is marked with what I assume is a tattoo unique to the Russian Bratva.

He’s looking at me in that creepy way again—a shark baring its teeth before devouring a fish. The guy would be hot if he didn’t give me the creeps.

“Um … no,” I reply, my face starting to hurt from constantly wearing a fake smile. I don’t want to be rude and offend Viktor, which would put me back on Diego’s bad side. All I can do is bide my time until my daiquiri is ready. “I’m only just starting to design my own swimwear line. Nothing has been produced just yet.”

Viktor drags his eyes up and down my body, not bothering to hide his interest. “Well, I’ll have to find out who designed this one so I can

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