Patrick: A Mafia Love Story Read online

  “Thank you, and I appreciate it.” She leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. “You’re not my father, and I don’t need you to act like one. That’s the last thing I want from you, Patrick.” Then she spun on her heel and strolled away, looking as carefree as any twenty-two-year-old should.

  He watched her go, entranced by the sway of her hips, feeling powerless to stop her. He wasn’t used to feeling impotent and unable to act. She had a point though. Unless he was willing to confine her to the house under a guard, he couldn’t stop her from going. Instead, he could send a couple of men with her for her safety. A wicked grin curved his lips as he plotted to ensure his men knew to keep this date on a strictly platonic level. He would happily send in proxy cock-blockers, since he couldn’t force her not to go.

  ***

  Lauren would never admit it to Patrick, but she was glad for his two goons accompanying them. She wasn’t really into this Jeff guy, but she had figured a date on her first night back, coupled with this sexy-as-sin dress, might start pushing Patrick’s buttons—with a little help, including some light flirtation and simple disregard for his authority. Put together, those might be enough elements to make him lose control and claim what he so clearly wanted.

  She wasn’t fooling herself by thinking that, was she? Was she projecting her own attraction on to him, or did he genuinely seem interested in her? It was a question that had haunted her for four-and-a-half years, and she was no closer to having an answer. Before she left his home again, she would know for sure. She had promised herself that.

  Jeff seemed antsy and kept his hands above table, tapping them on the tabletop. “Is it really necessary to have your bodyguards right here at the table?” he asked in a surly tone.

  She shrugged. “They’re just following orders.” Not something that would please her, at least under other circumstances, but it was working to her advantage. She had a feeling Jeff would be the handsy type if he hadn’t been so intimidated by the two large men in dark suits. If he’d seen the holsters, hidden under the expertly tailored jackets except for a discreet bulge, he would’ve certainly been intimidated. He probably hadn’t noticed that, or she had a feeling he would have already run for the door of the club. “Would you like to dance?”

  He nodded, looking eager to escape from her bodyguards. As she slid from the booth, she nodded to Jake and Isaac. “There’s no need to follow us. We’ll stay in your view.”

  Isaac nodded, and Jake looked bored. She almost felt sorry for the two guys getting stuck on babysitting duty, but again, she was grateful for their presence.

  After putting some proximity between her bodyguards and himself, Jeff seemed more confident now. He cupped her hips and tried to grind against her as they danced to a fast beat. She took a step back, shaking her head firmly. He behaved himself for a few minutes, and then he was back the same old tricks when she turned around, this time digging his dick into her ass. She stepped away from him and turned around. “It was an interesting evening, but it’s time for me to go.”

  He held onto her hands, pulling her back toward him. “We just got here.”

  “Like forty minutes go, and you’re not respecting my boundaries. That’s plenty of time for me to realize the date has lasted long enough.”

  He frowned at her, obviously having forgotten about her bodyguards for the moment as he pulled her back toward him. His arms clamped around her, and she glared up at him as she prepared to step on his foot. “Let go of me, or you’ll be sorry.” She had worn her favorite pair of stilettos, both because they enhanced her legs and because they could double as a handy escape weapon in situations like this.

  She might have slightly misled Patrick about the number of times she had left campus in Ireland. Official field trips had certainly been less than ten. The unofficial kind, involving her and her dorm mates sneaking out of the university and meeting one of her friends’ older brothers, who drove them all to the nearest club—which was still quite a distance—had been far more frequent than ten. She was still a virgin, but she wasn’t naïve in any form.

  “We’re just getting started, baby. Why don’t you come back with me to my hotel room for a different kind of dancing? I’m only here for a couple of days, as you know.”

  She started to pull away from him, and he tightened his arms around her. Lauren stepped on his toe at the same time he suddenly went flying backward. At first, she expected to see one of her bodyguards standing in front of her. It was a shock to see Patrick instead, brushing at his suit and glaring at her. “What are you doing here?”

  “You’re leaving. Now.” His hand fastened around her arm, and he dragged her behind him. She had to rush to keep up on the high heels, and she was protesting the entire way. Secretly, she was thrilled by his display of jealousy, though he would call it protectiveness, even if she didn’t appreciate the caveman tactics of dragging her from the club.

  His car was waiting out front in a no-parking zone, and he pushed her toward it. With a nod toward their guards, apparently indicating they should take the car they had come in, he slid in behind her and slammed the door.

  The privacy screen was up, and she licked her lips as a hint of nervousness came through. Had she pushed him too far too quickly? Of course she had wanted to elicit a reaction from Patrick, but she didn’t want him going over the deep end. “What right do you have to drag me around like that?”

  “I’m your guardian.”

  She laughed harshly. “You were my guardian for all of five months, until I turned eighteen. That was four years ago, Patrick. You’re no longer my guardian, and you don’t have the right to tell me what to do.”

  “That stranger had his hands all over you and was trying to get you back to his room. I have a right to stop that sort of nonsense.”

  “That’s my decision to make.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not going to go around making stupid choices while I’m part of your life.”

  She glared at him, shifting from pleased by the show of jealousy to true annoyance in a flash. “It’s not a stupid choice. I’m twenty-two, and it’s perfectly normal for me to be out dating. At some point, I’d like to have sex before I die a virgin.”

  His hazel eyes darkened, and his expression tightened, looking almost pained. “You’re a virgin?”

  Had she imagined the rough edge of excitement to his tone? She shivered at the thought, hoping it wasn’t her imagination. “Yes, but not for long if I can help it.”

  He closed his eyes, clearly gathering his self-control. “You should be proud of yourself and not throw it away on some loser.”

  When he opened his eyes again, she slowly licked her lips, aware of his gaze following the motion. “Honestly, I’d planned to save it for someone special, someone with whom I’d like to spend my life, but that looks less likely to happen all the time. So I might as well get it over with.”

  He growled softly, turning more to face her, his knee pressing against her thigh. “It’s not something to get over with, Lauren. Save it for that special person. He’ll appreciate your gift, and you’ll certainly appreciate not throwing it away on some loser who sweet talks you into his bed before kicking you out of it the next morning.”

  She turned her head to meet his gaze, feeling like she could drown in the hot depths of his eyes. It was a struggle to sound normal, to hide her reaction to his proximity and their conversation. Her panties were a sodden mess, stuck to her tender flesh, and she could barely resist the urge to shift in the seat. Only knowing it might reveal her arousal kept her sitting still. “It’s my choice to make. I’ve decided I’m getting rid of it this summer, one way or the other.”

  He glared at her. “In that case, I will tie you up to the bed. I refuse to allow you to whore around like that after you’ve waited so long.”

  She licked her lips again, barely hearing the small groan he emitted. “I’ve waited long enough. I’ve waited far too long for what I want, and I’m through waiting.” She leaned slight
ly closer, and he stiffened when her breath brushed his cheek. “And who said anything about tying me to the bed? That was never part of my suggestion, Patrick. Where are your thoughts?”

  He jerked upright and away from her, turning to face forward again. It wasn’t the reaction she had hoped for, and she sighed with disappointment as she leaned back against her seat again. “It’s not up for discussion.”

  “You’ve got that right,” he said gruffly. “No more dates while you live in my house.”

  That was more like the reaction she wanted, and she stifled a grin. Of course the obvious comeback was that she wouldn’t stay in his house then, but she wasn’t about to utter those words. She wasn’t leaving until this thing was settled between them, either until he belonged to her, or she discovered for sure that he didn’t want to or wouldn’t yield.

  If he was more hung up on his honor than having her, she needed to know that too. With a small sigh, she leaned her head back and didn’t look at him again.

  He dropped her off at his house, but didn’t even get out of the car. “Go straight upstairs.” His stern tone brooked no argument, and neither did the glare in his eyes.

  She slid from the car, nodding to the driver who had opened the door for her. She swept regally up the stairs, pausing in the library just to spite him. She had no need for the books there, since her e-reader was crammed full, but she wasn’t going to let him dictate all of her movements. After the library, she went to the kitchen for a snack before finally making her way to her room. As she settled in for the night, she wasn’t certain if she’d made any progress with him at all. Trying to seduce Patrick was a bit like herding cats. It was a frustrating exercise in self-control, and she was impatient to get to the end result.

  ***

  Dick aching to be inside her, Patrick shifted on the leather seats. The last thing he felt like doing was going to the damned strip club, but it was the meeting place Alexei had stipulated. The Russian owned the club, along with several others, and a string of brothels throughout the tri-state area. Patrick suspected most of those brothels were staffed with the human cargo the Russians imported on a regular basis, but it wasn’t his operation or his business. That didn’t mean he had to like it, and he steered clear of that sort of thing as a rule. Strip clubs were sleazy, and while he had enjoyed them in his youth, now they were just an annoyance.

  Especially when he had something so much sweeter and tastier waiting at home. If only he wasn’t so determined to do the right thing, he imagined he could storm back into his own house, straight to Lauren’s room, and open the door to find her waiting eagerly for him. She wanted him. He was certain of it now, but that only made it harder to resist her.

  He cursed a blue streak as he shifted again, his cock twitching at the thought of stripping that pink dress from her. When he’d watched her dance so obscenely with that little prick at the club, he’d wanted to go over, shove the jerk out of the way, and insert himself in his spot. He’d wanted it to be his cock rubbing against her taut little cheeks, his hands on her hips. Only he wasn’t happy with the dance. He would’ve wanted to culminate it right there, sliding the dress up to her hips, the panties to the side, and fumbling open his belt before plunging into the heat of her.

  The reality abruptly ended his fantasy as he recalled she was a virgin. She wouldn’t be up to a public fuck fest on the dance floor, and she was too young and too good for him. After what he had taken from her, he couldn’t seize anymore. Taking her virginity would be an ultimate crime he couldn’t commit.

  He’d had no choice but to kill her father, but if she ever learned the truth, she would hate him. If she learned the truth and they were lovers, it might destroy her. It would certainly destroy him to lose her if he’d had her at all. It was better for both of them to maintain distance and keep up the guardian/ward relationship, even though she had tartly pointed out he was no longer her guardian.

  At the strip club, he sighed heavily as Benny open the door for him. He nodded to the driver and slid out, Jake and Isaac joining him a moment later as they pulled up in the black SUV they’d taken to escort Lauren on her date.

  When Jake had seen that Jeff character getting so handsy, he had called Patrick. It had been a short detour, and he’d had time, but he shouldn’t have been the one to take her home. It meant he was running late for his meeting, and he hated that sort of thing. He might be running an illegal business, but it was still a business.

  To be successful, you did what you said you were going to do, you showed up on time, and you kept your mouth shut. That was how he’d made his business a success and managed to stay alive running it for twelve years. Since his father had died, it had been his baby, and he intended to enjoy a long, successful career as the head of their branch of the mafia in their city. He wasn’t going to be gunned down at forty-eight like his dad had been.

  Which meant keeping up good relations with the Russians and the Italians. Of course, his relationship with the Peretti family was certainly shaky after that business with his man O’Mara and Sal Peretti’s nephew. A woman had come between them, and he’d fully supported Shane’s endeavors to keep her. Mia had appeared to be a sweet little thing, and there was no denying Aldo Peretti had been a fucking psychopath.

  He didn’t regret how things had turned out, but his support of Shane, coupled with him providing the knife with which Mia had used to stab Aldo, had left their relationship strained. He was doing his best to repair it, but his main hope was he could just keep up the appearance of diplomacy until Sal retired and handed the whole mess over to his nephew Gio. Gio seemed like he would be slightly more reasonable and easier to work with, and there wouldn’t be bad blood between them, tainted by his role in Aldo Peretti’s murder.

  He imagined the aggression between them would have already escalated if not for the fact that Sal had doubts about Gio and Aldo’s loyalty. That had been what had led to the fight between Shane and Aldo, culminating with Aldo’s death. Sal hadn’t officially withdrawn support of his nephew, but Patrick’s spies told him Gio had certainly come under careful scrutiny by his grandfather. That meant it would be a longer time before the old man retired, and the more chance for aggression to bloom.

  Alexei was waiting for him in a darkened corner in a plush leather booth so luxurious it was almost embarrassing. He slid into it and nodded to the scantily clad waitress as she came to take his order. He kept it simple. “Scotch on the rocks.” As she moved away, he scooted a bit closer around the U-shaped seating so that they could speak quietly. The pulsing music wasn’t so loud here, and all the patrons were focused on the stage, where a buxom blonde was in the process of stripping off her naughty schoolgirl outfit. It was the perfect place for a meeting, because no one gave a fuck and no one paid attention.

  “I got the last shipment.”

  Patrick nodded to Alexei as the young woman returned with his drink. He handed her a hundred dollar bill, and with a wink, said, “Keep the change.”

  She grinned at him as she walked away, her body drawing his attention briefly. She was exquisite, but she couldn’t compare to the woman dominating his thoughts, and his gaze returned immediately to Alexei Varnakov. “That’s good. I hear your shipment arrived safely in Belfast.” He struggled to hide a grimace, hating that heroin was now flooding the streets of Ireland, simply because it was a horrible drug.

  He didn’t understand drugs. Oh, he understood the allure of their profit potential, but he didn’t stand understand the kind of idiot who started voluntarily using them. Guns were simple. Guns could kill, but it wasn’t the guns themselves that killed people. People would get guns either way, so he might as well make some profit from it. And guns could do good things as much as bad.

  They had a quick meeting, and as he started to leave, Alexei motioned to one of the dancers making her rounds. She was a cute redhead with freckles peppered across the bridge of her nose and large eyeglasses. It was difficult to tell if they were part of her costume or necessity.
r />   “Tonya, take care of Mr. Murphy before he leaves, will you?”

  Patrick bit back a groan, not wanting to deal with such hospitality. Refusing a lap dance—or whatever he was being offered—could lead to bad will, so he steeled himself to follow her into a private room.

  Tonya indicated he should sit on a comfortable recliner, and he did so, but he couldn’t relax. He curled his fingers into the leather upholstery as she started to gyrate in front of him to the sultry music playing. It sounded like some sort of Indian music, with a sitar plucking mournfully every few notes. It wouldn’t be his first choice for sexy music, but her moves were in perfect sync, and she did it well.

  If his mind hadn’t been completely consumed with Lauren, he wouldn’t have had any problem responding to the little redhead, and he probably would’ve enjoyed a quick fuck in the private room.

  As it was, he couldn’t hide his lack of interest when she sat on his lap, rubbing against him in a suggestive way. It reminded him of the way Lauren had danced with that other guy, and the thought of being against her instead made his erection harden.

  Tonya giggled. “That’s better. I was starting to think you didn’t like me.”

  He maintained his silence as she bobbed and rubbed against him, barely managing to keep himself erect. He certainly wasn’t feeling it when she was rubbing against him. Even imagining it was Lauren didn’t help, because it felt like a betrayal. She wasn’t his, at least not officially, so she had no claim on him, but it felt disloyal to be imagining her being the one doing this to him when some strange woman was touching him.

  Finally, with a grunt, he lifted her off his lap and back onto the floor. He kept his hands on her hips for just a moment until she was stable on her platform shoes. “Thank you.” He said it gruffly, aware he didn’t sound all that grateful.

  She tipped her head, looking puzzled. “Don’t you want more? Mr. Varnakov told me to take care of you.”