Her Consigliere Page 5

  “Marco will be here in an hour to take over. I’ll leave then. Order came straight from the don that we aren’t to leave you alone.”

  She wanted to say she was missing the point—that she didn’t want anyone lurking outside her door—but it wasn’t worth fighting a battle she couldn’t win. She had a lot of pull in the organization, but Carlo had the final word.

  The food was spicy and wonderful, and paired with the bold Zin, it almost distracted her enough to relax for a few minutes. She finished her food, leaned back on the couch, and closed her eyes, letting her mind roam. It settled on the model at Francine’s, whose talent modeling dresses was only surpassed by her talent with her tongue, and then quickly faded into an image of the tall, dark stranger who’d pulled her from danger last week. Two very different women, each desirable in their own unique way. Focusing on these two encounters combined with the serotonin from the spicy food and wine had her growing aroused. With a glance to the door to make sure she’d thrown the security lock, she pushed aside the tie of her robe and slid her hand down the length of her abdomen and traced her fingers lightly over her thighs before dipping between her legs to begin a steady rhythm. Within moments, she was wet and her breath was labored. She closed her eyes again and amped up the arousal by imagining she was back in the stranger’s arms. But this time she wasn’t lying in the street in downtown Dallas, but here in her apartment where she could offer a proper thank you.

  Chapter Five

  “If you need me to leave, I will.”

  Royal stood in the center of her apartment with a packed suitcase at her feet. Ryan was lounging on the couch where he’d spent most of the time since she’d been back. “Stay as long as you want,” she replied. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

  “Let me guess, you can’t tell me where you’re going either. Right?”

  She shrugged, torn between telling him she would only be across town and not saying anything at all. “You of all people should know how that goes. Care to share how many ops you’ve run?”

  Instead of answering, he grunted and fiddled with the TV remote. She still didn’t know why he’d left the Army. The brief window of time he’d been willing to talk on the day she returned home had closed when she’d been called to the US Attorney’s office. She’d lobbed opportunities to reopen the discussion several times in the past week, but he wasn’t biting other than to assure her it was an honorable discharge and that MPs wouldn’t come looking for him. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here,” she said in a final effort to get him to talk.

  “Well, you’re not actually since you’ve got one foot out the door.”

  He made like he was joking, but the laugh was fake, and it made him sound kind of whiny. It wasn’t like him to feel sorry for himself, so Royal wondered what was going on. If she were a good sister, she’d probably stick around and wait him out until he was ready to spill about why he’d gone from Army Ranger to couch surfer all of a sudden. But she had to go and he didn’t appear ready to open up to her anyway.

  “What do I do if there’s an emergency?” Ryan asked.

  She started to tell him to call her, but she wasn’t taking her personal phone. She had a new ID, a new phone, new everything, and the fewer people who knew about it, the better. She felt a little bit guilty about it, but not enough to compromise her cover. “I’ll check in with you when I can. If something goes wrong with the apartment, call Mr. Withers. The bureau will contact you if something happens to me.”

  “You’re definitely cut out for this line of work.”

  She heard the edge in his voice and almost didn’t bite. “Go ahead, say what’s on your mind.”

  “You get to wall yourself off from real connections, real feelings, while you play pretend. You don’t have to get close to anyone because none of it is real.”

  “What the hell happened to you out there?” she asked, unable to keep back the question and certain him lashing out at her was some form of projection. “Whatever it was, I’m here for you if you want to talk about it, but don’t take your anger out on me.”

  He sighed. “Sorry.” He pointed at the door. “Go, do your thing. Be the hero. One of us should make something of their life.”

  She didn’t want to leave things like this between them. She didn’t want to leave at all. But she’d made a promise and she was going to keep it. This would be the last time. It had to be.

  Thirty minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot for Valentino’s. The bleached blonde at the desk was chatting on the phone and waved her toward the two metal chairs in the tiny waiting area. Royal spent the wait scoping out the place, and so far, she wasn’t impressed. Peeling paint on the walls, scuffed wood floors, and rickety furniture. Hopefully, Robert Valentino had a better setup to meet actual clients because with what she was seeing now, she wouldn’t hire his company for a backyard barbecue, let alone an event of the year wedding.

  “I know, right? That’s what I said.”

  Royal looked up at the receptionist for a moment, but quickly realized she was still talking to whoever was on the other end of the phone line. Gossiping, no doubt. She made a mental note to be careful around her and also to snoop when she could. Office staff who didn’t think anyone noticed them were prime sources of information.

  She was still listening to the side of the call she could hear when the door to the inside burst open and a tall, thin, sandy-haired guy appeared. Royal recognized him as the owner from his photo in the bureau’s file, but she feigned nonchalance.

  “Royal?”

  She stood and clasped his outstretched hand. “That’s me.”

  “Robert Valentino. Come on back.” He held open the door for her, but his eyes were on the receptionist and he drew his hand across his throat. “Enough with the personal calls, Sandy.”

  With a wistful glance toward the now huffing Sandy, Royal followed Robert into the inner sanctum, which was as ratty as the rest of the place. The walk to Robert’s office was short, putting to rest any chance the hallway might lead to a more plush facility. At Robert’s direction, she took a seat in one of the chairs identical to those in the waiting area.

  “My cousin Dean vouches for you. Says you know your stuff.”

  “He’s right.” She’d only met Dean DeLuca the day before yesterday, an introduction arranged by another undercover agent working a related case. Dean ran a huge equipment rental operation, and the majority of his business was for the Mancusos. She’d wondered if Dean was the confidential informant, but she wouldn’t know for sure while she was working this case since the bureau preferred to keep UC connections double-blind. She hadn’t even met the UC who’d arranged the intro to Dean, but Dean had spoken highly of him, so his reference got her in the door, and she’d made enough of an impression on Dean for him to vouch for her with Robert. These guys were shrewd, but personal relationships were everything, and once you made a connection, you had an in. “He would know,” she said, tossing in the compliment to gauge Robert’s response.

  “He would. Guy runs a tight ship.” Robert nodded. “We’ve got a big job this weekend and I need someone who can manage all the logistics. You do good and there might be other opportunities that open up, if you know what I mean.”

  “Dean said you would take good care of me if I took good care of your business.” She settled back in her chair, not wanting to appear too eager.

  “Dean was right. You just have to earn your spot like the rest of us.”

  “Got it,” she replied, wondering how many times he was going to emphasize the point. “What’s the big job?”

  “It’s Celia Mancuso’s wedding.”

  She gave a low whistle, knowing he would expect her to be suitably impressed. “I heard about it. That is a big job.”

  “You up for it?”

  “I’m up for whatever you’ve got. Where are we doing this?”

  “Word is she wanted to do the wedding at one of those rent-a-castle places, do some fairy tale decorating
shit, but her dad put his foot down and the wedding is at the Mancuso estate. It’s in Preston Hollow, but deep in the center, like you’d never see it from the road. Security is locked up tighter than the Bush house a few blocks away. Makes setup a little more difficult, but Don Carlo likes to host on his home turf, if you know what I mean. We do a lot of work for the family business and we’ll go wherever.”

  “Got it. Makes sense. Do you do a lot of work for them personally or just for their business?” she asked, hoping the question wasn’t too much too soon, but wanting to be clear.

  “Like there’s a difference. They don’t throw a lot of family social events, but when they do, they come to us. Business-wise, we handle all of their bar needs. They’re our number one client.”

  Royal chanced a glance around the room. And probably your only ones. Which explained the run-down office. Who needed to spruce things up when you already had a captive client to fund your business? “Tell me what you need me to do.”

  “You’ll be my right hand. What I really need is someone to run point and make sure the bar setups are done, that all the bartenders check out—TABC-wise and for the family’s security. There’s going to be a lot of important people there. You’ll need to handle anything that comes up. I’ll be at the party, but as a guest, and I’d like to enjoy myself. Got it?”

  Royal recognized his attempt to establish rank, quick and early. They weren’t at the point where Robert was comfortable enough to reveal he was a newly made capo for Mancuso, but he wanted her to know he was important and deserved her respect. “Got it. You’re in charge, but my ass is on the line if anything goes wrong.” She smiled to show she didn’t mind him lording it over her. If only.

  He reached over and clapped her on the shoulder. “Exactly.” He stood. “Come on, let’s go check out the place.”

  She followed him again, thinking she was getting a tour of the building, but he led her out the back door to a Cadillac Seville. He tossed her the keys. “You drive. I like to ride.”

  A few turns later, she realized they were headed in the direction of Mancuso’s place. She hated that she wasn’t in her own ride, that she didn’t know exactly where they were going, and didn’t know what to expect when she got there, but she was experienced enough not to let her discomfort show. A few minutes later, they pulled up at a guard gate and Robert gave his name to the man on duty, who waved them through. The driveway was long and winding, but eventually, the enormous mansion came into view. For a minute, she thought she’d been transported to Tuscany—the place looked like an Italian villa with arched entries leading to several tiered buildings. Lush gardens lined the wide circular drive.

  Robert motioned for her to park close to the house. “Nice place, huh?” he said as they got out of the car.

  “Very,” Royal said, certain there were some people in the world who liked living in opulent grandeur, but she wasn’t one of them. Her apartment, where she knew where everything was and where she could see any trouble headed her way, suited her fine. But she could tell Robert was impressed, maybe even envious, of this palace, so she pretended a little harder. “It’s enormous. How many people live here?”

  “Don Carlo, of course. His wife died years ago. God rest her soul. The don has two daughters. The older one, Dominique, works directly with him and she keeps an apartment on the grounds, but she’s got a place downtown too. Her little sister Celia’s been living here, but that all changes after the wedding.”

  Royal had hoped he’d mention Siobhan Collins, but she wasn’t going to bring her up on her own. As the don’s trusted counselor, she’d definitely be at the wedding. The key was figuring out how to get close to her, and she had two tools to make that happen—patience and trusting her instincts.

  The elderly uniformed man who answered the door nodded at Robert and took a moment to look Royal up and down to the point Royal wondered if he was a capo disguised as a butler. “We were expecting you and Leo,” he said, directing his comment to Robert.

  “Hey, Sal,” Robert said. “This is Royal. Leo was filling in, but she’s taking over.”

  Royal held out her hand to the man and said, with as much respect as she could summon, “Nice to meet you.”

  “Wait here.”

  Royal watched him turn sharply on his heel, a smooth, dancer-like move that belied his age. He was gone from the room in a flash. “What was that about? I thought you said I had this job?”

  “Cool it,” Robert said. “Everything’s going to be fine. This is protocol. Maybe you haven’t done a big important event like this before, but there’s safety considerations and everyone needs to be vetted.”

  “So you vouching for me isn’t enough?”

  “It would be if he hadn’t only just been made.”

  Royal resisted turning around at the sound of the familiar voice. She shouldn’t recognize it since she’d only spent a moment in conversation with the woman who owned it, but she did and it sent a thrill down her spine like it had the first time she’d heard Siobhan speak. Royal raised an eyebrow at Robert, who was looking pretty flustered. “Is that true, Robert? And here I thought I was coming to work for a big player.” Before he could respond, Royal turned to face Siobhan, who took a sharp breath when they locked eyes.

  “If it isn’t the life-saving stranger from downtown.”

  Royal tuned in to the tone behind the words, but she couldn’t tell if Siobhan was praising or making fun of her. “Stranger? I hardly think we’re strangers now.” She spotted Robert looking back and forth between them, unable to fathom what they could be talking about, but she had no desire to explain to him. In fact, all she wanted was to have a moment alone with Siobhan.

  “True,” Siobhan said. “Robert, I’m going to borrow your friend for a moment.” She started to walk away, pausing after a few steps to turn her head and ask, “Are you coming?”

  Royal grinned. “Absolutely.”

  ❖

  Siobhan resisted looking back again, letting the sound of Royal’s footfalls be the only signal she was still behind her as she led the way to the den she used as an office when she was at the Mancuso mansion. The long walk through the hallways of the house gave her time to digest the surprise of having the stranger who’d saved her life show up with Robert, but she was consumed with curiosity, and she wanted to ask her questions in private.

  She took the formal route rather than the secret back ways she’d learned as a child when she’d learned to navigate her way from the kitchen, where her mother worked, to the landing where she played games with Dominique and Celia, and then back to the servants’ quarters where she’d been raised until the family had taken her into the big house as one of their own.

  “This is a beautiful home.”

  Royal’s voice was smooth and husky, and Siobhan melted into the sultry tone. “I like that you called it a home. Most people who come here for the first time, use words like mansion and compound, house at the very least, but home always seems so simple and not worthy for them. but it’s exactly how I think of this place.”

  “Do you live here?”

  Royal’s question seemed innocent on its face, but it alerted Siobhan she’d overshared. She pointed to a door up ahead on the right. “This is my office.” She pushed through the door and pointed to a chair near her desk. “Have a seat.”

  She slid into the seat behind the desk, enjoying the boundary it provided, and crossed her hands. “I wanted to thank you properly for saving me, but when I finally caught my breath, you were gone. And now you show up here. How opportune.” She left the words hanging in the air, wondering if Royal would offer an explanation for her appearance. It might be nothing more than a coincidence, but she hadn’t gotten to where she was in life without looking beneath the surface of everyone’s actions.

  Royal crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair, confident and comfortable—two qualities Siobhan wasn’t used to seeing on someone who’d been summoned to her office. “Definitely opportune. I had an appointment
that day I couldn’t miss, or I would’ve stuck around to make sure you were okay. Let’s just say that spending time with you would’ve been preferable to the meeting with the IRS agent I had scheduled.”

  Siobhan purposely ignored the flirty undertone. “Tax troubles?”

  “No trouble. I simply had to explain why I was right. I was successful.”

  “Are you often successful?”

  “I like to think so.”

  “How long have you worked for Robert?”

  “Believe it or not, we met for the first time today. Through a mutual friend, Dean Deluca. Maybe you know him?”

  Royal’s pause before answering was barely perceptible, but Siobhan was used to detecting nonverbal cues. “I do. How do you know him?”

  “I helped a friend of his out with a delicate matter. I ran an operation in Houston similar to Valentino’s, and when Robert’s last manager ran into trouble, Dean recommended me as a good fit to fill in at the last minute. I understand this wedding will be the social event of the season.”

  Siobhan nodded. All anyone had been able to talk about lately was Celia’s wedding, but she couldn’t wait until it was over and she could turn her attention back to other family business that needed tending. “Robert has worked with us for a long time. If he and Dean vouch for you, then you must be good at what you do.”

  “I am.” Royal flashed a cocky smile. “I’ll show you.”

  Siobhan didn’t return the smile. Yes, she wanted to flirt back, but not if Royal was going to be working with them. She didn’t play where she worked. It was bad for business, and business always came first. “How about you show all of us at the wedding. Celia has been planning this day since she was a little girl, and we all want it to be extra special. When your predecessor was arrested, it was an unpleasant surprise, and we don’t want any more of those. Okay?”

  Royal nodded slowly. “Okay. No surprises.” She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. “Was vetting me the only reason you asked to see me alone, then?”