7

“You’re as sweet as you look, aren’t you?” His face darkens and he takes a step back. “You shouldn’t have come.” He shakes his head. “I figured you’d quit for sure.”

Suddenly I’m suffocating under his disappointment in me, which mirrors my own. When will I ever smarten up? Bartenders who like to drop ecstasy and mafioso casino owners are bad news.

As if he senses my change in mood, he reaches out and touches my shoulder. It’s a light touch—respectful. Nothing sexy or dominating about it. “I’m sorry about yesterday, Sondra.”

The way he says my name makes my insides twist and wriggle. I didn’t expect it to sound so… familiar on his lips.

“I’m glad you came back—even though I wish to hell, for your sake, you didn’t.”

I shove my chin forward. “So which is it? You want me here or you don’t?”

Suddenly I’m trapped against the cart, caged by the two steel bands of his arms. Tacone comes flush up against me, hard, muscular lines pressed against my curves. His cock bulges at my stomach. “I jerk