An Offer He Cant Refuse - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,46

lingering amongst them.
Chapter Fourteen
"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" Buddy Rich Buddy Rich Just Sings (1957)

It had been his dick talking, damn it, Johnny thought as he turned onto the narrow lane leading up to the estate his neighbors had carved into the mountainside next to his property. Not that he didn't want Tea in his bed, and not that it mattered a whit whether it was simple or not. But he couldn't afford to focus on seduction right now. It might distract him from the evening's more important goal.

The neighbors had lived in the same location for thirty years, they'd told him when they'd caught him at the bottom of his driveway to extend their invitation. They'd known all the previous owners. Tonight, Johnny planned on pumping them for every scrap of information they had on Giovanni Martelli.

He braked beneath a piece of arched canvas shading a parking area, then reached into the backseat for his racket. "Ready?" he asked Tea, glancing over at her.

Feathery dark lashes. Apricot skin. She'd forced her mass of dark hair into a long braid. He tried to leave his gaze there, but still it dropped to the tight top that was hugging a spectacular upper curve that would have put starlet Missy Banyon into everlasting envy. That gimme-gimme greediness was already burning through his blood again, and Tea was still sitting on the asset that fascinated him most. When she'd slipped out of her robe to show off the lime-colored tennis skirt riding along the womanly flare of her ass, he'd flashed on SweeT ARTS. He could never decide what he wanted to do with the candy first - a delicious suck or one clean bite.

Her eyes widened.

Shit. Was he thinking out loud? Wrenching his gaze away from her, he fumbled with the door handle and stepped into the warm dusk. Tea was out before he could get around to her door.

"Are you ready?" he said again, trying not to stare at her smooth, naked legs.

"As long as you're not expecting an experienced partner."

Was that what made Tea so wary? Lack of experience? Gimme-gimme-gimme. He'd be happy to provide all the practice that she needed.

"You're looking wolfish again," she said, poking him in the belly with her tennis racket as he tried stepping closer. "Don't you want to get to the party?"

"Yes." Damn it. She'd meant tennis partner, of course, but his little head was doing all the thinking again. Mad at himself, but just male enough to want to take it out on her, he grabbed her free hand and set off at a brisk pace on the pathway toward the house. Voices and laughter made him veer down a set of steps and he towed Tea behind him, refocusing his thoughts on the real reason he was here.

Giovanni. His father. His own memories of what the man had been like before his murder were sixteen years old. Luxury car sales. A woman he claimed to love. Neither went along with a man who one day up and decides to agree to execute a dangerous mob hit, the way the old rumors went. The way the old reporter had told him on the golf course.

A second set of steps led Johnny and Tea to a terrace, where a cabana-style bar was set up along with some tables and lounge chairs. In the distance lay the valley floor and the stark, purple outlines of the Santa Rosa mountains, but here bougainvillea spilled from immense pots and palm trees poked through the flagstoned surface, standing like attendant waiters. A pristine tennis court, with four people standing close to the net, was just another set of steps away.

"Johnny!" One of the players waved an arm. "Come on down."

A flurry of first-name-only introductions followed. Their hosts, Phillip and Doug, he'd already met. From their earlier conversation, it was apparent that the two men were a gregarious, long-committed couple. Wearing deep tans and matching tennis wear, they passed out firm handshakes followed by tall glasses of a whipped drink. The other two people were also neighbors, but fortyish Clark and Megan had only moved in a year before, and so wouldn't have anything to add about the murder.

Doug explained the game they'd planned for the evening. "We thought four of us at a time would play drop ball instead of regular tennis." He explained it was doubles, but court play was limited to the first two squares up close to the net. "The ball has