leverage with the Mafia or with the FBI.
And whether or not she loved him or she hated him, the mob boss's daughter continued to protect him.
It was why she'd decided to carry it with her, instead of leaving it in her empty house all day.
'That's it," Johnny suddenly bit out, pulling on the bag-covered book in her hands to bring her toward him.
"What are you doing?" she said, allowing him to tug her forward because she was unwilling to release the book. But as he drew her too close, she let go and folded her arms against her chest. "What's gotten into you?"
He shook his head. "I don't the hell know. I was just going to... I wanted to kiss you again."
"Well, don't." Tea flushed. "I mean, I don't want you to."
"I don't want to want to either," he replied, glaring at her. His hand slashed the book through the air in a impatient gesture. "But then you show up in the butt-ugly dress and... shit."
And I want to strip it off you and lick you from your pretty little toes to your hot little tongue.
Oh, no, Tea thought. She wasn't going to let her imagination go wild again. Pretending she heard Johnny's voice in her head only fueled the sexual fire he ignited inside of her. But she wasn't going to burn this time.
"Look, Contessa, the fact is that I'm on a short fuse here, and - "
"You're on a short fuse? You're on a short fuse?" The anger she always tried to keep locked away in her mind was rattling its cabinet doors. Her grandfather was trying to rope her back into the family, her business was always on the verge of collapse or the object of public contempt, dozens of dangerous men were moving into town, all who would eagerly, literally, kill to find the book that was right now in the hands of the one man who had promised her miracles but paid off in misery.
Sexual misery, the lowest kind of all.
"I'll have you understand," she continued, "that I didn't ask for any of this. I could have gone along just fine, ignoring this... this so-called chemistry. I didn't want to know you any better than knowing whether you prefer floor lamps or hanging fixtures. But you're the one who told me it was 'simple,' and that I should stop my self-denial and start eating sugar again."
She lunged toward him, meaning to swipe the bagged book out of his hand.
He held onto it. "Maybe I was wrong - "
"Maybe you were wrong?" She tugged at the book, but he wouldn't let go. "Then maybe you should have figured that out before backing me up against my front door Friday night and then leaving me feeling... feeling - "
Realizing what she'd been about to give away, she broke off and went back to yanking on the Loanshark book.
Johnny tightened his grip. "Leaving you feeling what?" he prompted, his voice turning softer. Silkier. 'Tell me, I want to know."
"Look, let's just forget about it, okay?" Now that he was gazing at her instead of glaring at her, she wanted to drop the subject.
"Perhaps we should just be honest with each other instead."
"You want honesty?" How ironic the notion was when they were holding her shameful secrets between them. But she managed to stare him straight in the eyes. "Go ahead, Johnny. You start."
He hesitated. For several long, tense moments.
She laughed as his hands relaxed and she was able to pull the makeup bag from his grasp. "It's not as easy as it sounds, is it?" With the book in her hands, she could breathe better. She tucked it back in her briefcase, stuffing it deep, then took pity on them both by doing the same with the personal turn of their conversation.
She stuffed that deep too, and returned to her professional responsibilities. "I'd like to show you some sketches I've prepared. They're preliminary, of course, but I want to make sure I'm on the right track with what you have in mind."
"Fine." He took a deep breath, let it out. "Sure." With another deep breath he strode to the front door and held it open for her.
It was pleasantly cool inside, but their footsteps clattered in the emptiness. Apparently he'd added no more furnishings besides those in the master bedroom, and she couldn't understand why he'd want to live with all the eerie echoes. "I have a few pieces in mind, a chair and a love seat, that