Ricco went absolutely still. The pitch was low and sweet. That tone pushed into his chest, right into his center, as if it were a key unlocking something tight and hard in him. He moved his hand over...
Once he had told her he wanted her to stay, she'd been lost in the wonder of that. No one ever wanted her. No one.
Looking into Ricco's eyes, she knew she was safe with him. She felt safe. More she felt free.
Just once, even if it wasn't real she wanted to feel as if a man saw only her. No one else. For those moments, she was his world. His canvas. He saw beauty in her.
It wasn't her looks that caught his interest or made him stand utterly still. It was her shadow. The sun was throwing light perfectly to create tall, full shadows. Hers leaked long tentacles. Thin. Li...
It wasn't about a women's weight, it was about who they were, if that brightness shone through their eyes and skin and hair. Ricco found beauty in art. Women were a form of art. All shapes and sizes....
It stems from hundreds of years ago, a law handed down in our family generations ago. The Saldi family in Sicily murdered the Ferraro family, killing as many members, men women and children, as they c...
She was mixed--Japanese and American. Nothing. A nothing. A nobody. The 'kanji' in her last name meant female devil. She didn't even know what her real last name was because she'd dishonored the famil...
Someone to care about him. Someone to be his center. Someone to make him feel alive and passionate about living.
Stefano's the oldest. He has four brothers, equally hot. One sister, totally beautiful. When they walk around together, people just stare at them. That's how hot they are. Each one is supercool as wel...
His breath hitched. His lungs seized. She was the last thing he'd expected to happen because...frankly...a woman like her was so rare. He didn't know how to feel about it, but suddenly there was nothi...
Her family, the ones so gracious and honorable to take in two orphans, were harsh with her for her own good so she wouldn't become the whore her mother had been.
This wasn't about bringing justice to criminals no one else could get to. This was about the knots in his gut that coiled tighter and tighter, and felt personal. Very personal. And that in itself was...
We're celebrating tonight, Ricco said, raising his glass. To our Francesca. May she be followed by the right ones in a very timely manner.
There you go, getting all protective on me. You're worried about me, aren't you? His voice practically purred at her, a sensual mixture of possession, desire and something else - affection. Dio, bambi...
He was just so intimidating and darkly sensual, filling the room with his presence until she could barely think straight.
For the first time in her life she had the urge to turn around and flee. She knew danger when she saw it, and Ricco Ferraro was pure danger.
Where the fuck is your coat? His voice was pitched low. Soft. It sounded menacing, as if all his anger was directed at her because she didn't have on a coat.
He was the protector of his family-- the entire family in every city or town around the world. He was their key to survival.
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