Tony's penthouse was everything I expected and nothing I was prepared for. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased Manhattan like a glittering kingdom, modern art hung on pristine white walls, and everything screamed wealth and power. But it was the small details that caught my attention – a worn leather book on the coffee table, a framed photo of a young Tony with an elderly woman who must have been his grandmother, a half-finished chess game set up by the window.
"You play?" I asked, moving towards the board.
"My grandmother taught me." He appeared behind me with two glasses of wine, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. "She had said that chess was the one honest game – no luck, no chance, just outcomes and strategy."
I accepted the glass, aware of how his fingers brushed against mine. "Sounds like she was a sage woman."
"She was the one and only person who ever defeated my father at something." He gestured toward the dining room, where he had prepared a small table for two. "Dinner will be about twenty minutes. I hope you like Thai cuisine."
"I adore it. But Tony-", I put down my wine, as I needed to talk about the elephant in the room. "About Victoria Sterling. I don't want any trouble between you and your family."
"You're not doing anything. It's my father." His face closed. "He views everything as a business, even a marriage. But that is his decision, not mine."
"It's only because he wants to protect you."
"By controlling everything I do in life?" I took a step back, and he came forward. "Whom can I visit and whom can I not? Whom can I talk to and whom can I not talk to?"
The pain in his voice was raw and honest, and I found myself reaching up to touch his face without thinking. His skin was warm beneath my palm, and the fact that his eyes darkened at my touch made a warm glow gather low in my belly.
"I'm afraid," I admit. "Not of you, but the repercussions of being with you. The danger, the complications-"
"I know." His hand closed over mine, holding me more firmly against his cheek. "I'm afraid too. I never let anyone in before."
"Why are you doing this then?"
"Because you make me want to be more than the son of my father." He dipped his head, leaving a kiss on my hand that sent shivers through me. "Because when I am with you, I am reminded that there should be more to politics and power."
My chest tightened. "Tony, I-"
The words died when he cupped my face between both hands, his thumbs gently stroking my cheekbones. "Tell me to stop and I will stop. Tell me that this is moving on fast, then we'll go slower. But Katherine, I want you to remember that this is real to me. You are not a conquest or a distraction. You're..."
"What?" I whispered, hardly able to pant.
"You're the first choice I've made for myself in thirty years."
Then his lips were on mine, and thinking was no longer possible. The kiss had been soft, almost prayerful, when I responded – when my hands fisted his shirt and pulled him in tighter – something shifted. His arms came around my waist, pulling me hard into his chest, and I gasped hard at the solid feel of him.
He availed himself of my parted lips, deepening the kiss more deeply until I was intoxicated with desire. I had been kissed, but never like this – never with this combination of passion and gentleness, hunger and control. Tony kissed me as if I were precious and irreplaceable, as if he had waited a lifetime for this kiss.
When we finally parted, both breathless, his forehead pressed against mine.
"Katherine," he whispered, his voice rough. "I need you to understand something."
"What?"
"Being with me puts you in danger. My world isn't safe. Some people will try to use you as a way to get through to me, or worse, hurt you to prove their point." He tightened his hold on me around the waist. "I can understand if you want to leave now. I'll even help you find another banker to pitch to, someone who can give you that promotion without all this baggage."
I should have agreed. Every logical part of me screamed this was the moment I had to escape before things got too out of hand. But staring into Tony's eyes, watching the vulnerability and hope clash there, I was unable to.
"I am not leaving," I said firmly. "But I need you to promise me one thing."
"Anything"
"Promise you will be honest with me, about the danger, about your family, about all of this. I can handle the truth, Tony. What I will not be able to deal with is being kept in the dark and blindsided."
Relief crossed his face. "I promise. No secrets."
He kissed me again, and I allowed myself to fall into it this time. My hands came up his chest, over his neck, through his black hair. He moaned into my lips, and the sound sent the heat flying through my veins.
His phone rang insistently on the counter. Once, twice, three times. Tony ignored it, his attention focused on me, on the way I was pressed into his body, on the little moaning I was making.
Then my phone started ringing.
We broke apart reluctantly, and I fumbled for my purse. "It's Susan. She never calls unless-"
"Katherine, where are you?" Susan's voice was panicked, and my blood went cold. "Tell me you aren't with Tony Marvin at the present moment."
"What's wrong?"
"Turn on the television. Channel Seven. Now."
Tony was grabbing the remote too, his face grim. The television came on, displaying a newscaster who had a breaking story tagline behind her.
—explosion at the Marvin Industries storage facility in Brooklyn. Reports show that this may be linked with ongoing rivalries between competing organized crime families. No casualties reported yet, but authorities suspect that this was a targeted attack—"
The screen cut to footage of flames engulfing a building I recognized from Tony's portfolio. Emergency vehicles surrounded the scene, and reporters swarmed like vultures.
"Tony," I said in a strangled voice. "Is anyone inside?"
He had gone pale; his jaw was clenched so hard that I could see the twitch of the muscle. He was already reaching for his phone. "Marco, what happened? I don't care my father said, I want all the facts in ten minutes."
He hung up the phone and stood before me, and the man standing before me was no longer the one kissing me the minute before. He was Anthony Marvin, mafia heir, and the cold calculation that I saw in his eyes made shivers run down me.
"I have to go."
"Let me come with you-"
"No." His voice was harsh. "This is exactly what I was warning about. My world, Katherine. My danger."
"But-"
"Please." His voice softened a little. "Stay in this room where you're safe. I'll have security waiting by the door. Don't leave the room until I call you."
He grabbed his jacket and was on his way out the door before I stopped him. "Tony, be careful."
He kissed me quickly and firmly, like he was committing the sensation of my lips to memory. "Lock the door after me. Don't open it for anyone except me."
Then he was gone, and I was standing alone in his enormous penthouse with the smell of smoke wafting from the television screen.
My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: Crossing lines has consequences, Miss Blaire. Ask yourself if he's worth dying for.
I trembled as I reread it. Someone knew that I was here. Someone was watching.
And whoever just blew up Tony's warehouse was sending me a clear message: Back off from Anthony Marvin, or become collateral damage.
The issue was, could I still get out of it if I wanted?
Standing in Tony's penthouse, still tasting him on my lips, I realized with terrifying clarity that it was already too late.
I was falling in love with him, and in his mind, that was the riskiest thing I should be doing.