The Secret (House of Sin Book 1) Page 6

  “Oh, bella.” Gio’s approving gaze slid from the top of my head, down the slim black cocktail dress I’d found in Laney’s closet that had probably hit her midthigh but on me reached almost to my knees, then down my exposed legs to my hot-pink toes peeking out of the three inch silver stilettos. "Tu mi togli il respiro.”

  His approval was welcome after that call from my mother. If she’d been able to see me, she’d have told me the dress was too tight and my hair was too messy. I reached for my purse from the chair near the door and slung the strap over my shoulder.

  Gio was an attractive man—especially tonight in the expensive black slacks and crisp white dress shirt open at his collar to show a dusting of dark chest hair—but I wasn’t interested. I was doing this for Laney and had no desire to get tangled up with any man. “I don’t have a clue what you said.”

  He chuckled and stepped back so I could move into the hall and lock the door. “I said you take my breath away. And you do, bella.”

  I heard a sniff near my ear, and when warmth brushed my bare shoulder, I realized he was close. Very close.

  “Is that grapefruit I smell?” he asked.

  I turned toward him and swept my curls over my shoulder, moving back against the door for space. “Yes. Hermes.”

  “I knew I recognized the scent.”

  His gaze slid over my outfit once more like a sinful caress, making me wish I’d picked something other than the clingy spaghetti strap dress.

  He leaned in and drew another whiff that curved his lips in a seductive smile. “Very sexy.”

  My stomach caved in at his boldness. Thankfully, he stepped back just when I was starting to feel trapped.

  He held his hand out toward the stairs. “After you.”

  I gripped the handrail and moved down the steps, working for calm and casual when I felt anything but. “Thanks for inviting me to meet some new people.” Warm, humid air rushed over me when I stepped outside. Even at eight p.m., it was still muggy in New York. “Where is this party?”

  “A friend’s place.”

  That told me nothing. “Is it far?”

  Instead of answering, he flashed a mysterious smile and ushered me toward a sleek black Ferrari that was so totally him, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Eager, I see. That’s good. That’s very good.”

  His roving gaze slid over me again while he held the door, and as I lowered myself to the passenger seat, I didn’t miss how his sinfully pale eyes hovered on the length of my exposed thigh where the dress inched up as I sat.

  Nerves bounced around in my belly as he moved around the hood and climbed behind the steering wheel. He still hadn’t answered my question, and I had a sinking suspicion he wanted more from this night than I was willing to give.

  I was also sure if my mother could see me now, she’d absolutely shit bricks. She wouldn’t care if Gio had known Laney or was privy to anything about her death. She’d tell me to jump his bones before he could get away. A man with money and good looks who showed interest—in plain girls like me, according to her—was a total catch.

  I pushed that thought away as he jerked the car out of its parking space and sped down the road. I could handle this. I just had to keep my wits about me and everything would be fine.

  The Italian leather seat cradled my body in all the right places. But as Gio maneuvered the sports car into the midtown tunnel and whipped around cars going too slow in the eerie orange light, a new kind of anxiety speared through my chest. I gripped the door handle at my right.

  He glanced sideways with a wicked grin. “Scared, bella?”

  Considering he was swerving around vehicles like Mario Andretti, I was terrified. “I’m not sure yet. Should I be?”

  He looked back at the road, but his brazen smile didn’t fade. “Oh, you should be.”

  I chose to ignore that loaded comment.

  We popped out of the tunnel, leaving the eerie orange lights behind. Businesses on the sides of the freeway lit up the darkness, and we passed a sign that read I-495. I twisted in my seat to look over my shoulder. The twinkling skyline of Manhattan shone in the window behind me.

  “Are we on Long Island?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Gio maneuvered the sleek vehicle around a minivan. “The party’s at a private home about thirty minutes out. Just sit back and relax.”

  There was no way I could relax knowing I was on the same island where I’d been subjected to that weird medical exam, but I sank back in my seat so he couldn’t tell my mind was suddenly whirring with options should I need to bail quickly. I’d erroneously thought the party would be in the city and that I could grab a cab when I was ready to go home. As we veered off the interstate and wound through neighborhoods, the houses growing farther apart and set back off the road, I realized that wasn’t likely.

  I cleared my throat. “How do you know the people throwing this party?”

  “Family friends.”

  He was purposely being evasive. And the term “family” didn’t put me at ease at all. “Will your brother be there?”

  Gio huffed and mumbled, “I sure the hell hope not.” Then louder, “Don’t worry, he never comes to these things.”

  For the first time since I’d opened the door and seen Gio standing on the other side, I felt my pulse slow. “Well, that’s good. I wouldn’t want to run into him way out here. He’d probably think I was following him.”

  Gio grinned sideways again, the lights from the dash illuminating his wide smile. “Pity the woman who falls for the Beast, right?”

  “Yeah.” I smiled back, but instead of easing my tension, the comment ratcheted my heart rate up all over again.

  I really didn’t like domineering men. So why the pulse notch at the mention of the most domineering one I’d ever met?

  “Here we are.” Gio turned the vehicle off the dark two-lane road and stopped in front of a wide, arched iron gate with intricate scrollwork.

  Tall brick pillars flanked the gate on both sides, giving way to a twelve-foot brick privacy wall that blocked the road from what was on the other side. A dark-haired man in a black suit stepped out of a small gatehouse building to the left and stopped near the car. Gio rolled down the window. The two spoke in Italian for several moments, then the man bent and looked across the interior of the car at me.

  His expression was anything but friendly. Beady eyes slid over my face as if memorizing every play of bone and curve of skin. The man spoke to Gio again in Italian, his gaze never leaving me.

  Gio laughed at whatever the man said, reached across the seat, and squeezed my knee. I flinched at the contact but quickly tried not to let my reaction show. Smiling my way, Gio lifted his eyebrows, and I didn’t miss the act like you belong here look on his face. Heart pounding, I reached for his hand to pry it off my sensitive flesh, and blinked up at the gatekeeper with a grin I didn’t feel.

  The man looked from me to Gio and back again, then finally straightened, shifting his face out of my line of sight.

  Seconds later, the gate parted in the center and swung back. Gio said “Grazie,” and rolled up his window. As we drove onto the grounds and the gate clanged shut behind us, I had the ominous feeling I wasn’t welcome at this so-called party.

  My nerves shot right back into overdrive.

  “What was that?” I asked, letting go of his hand and looking across the dark grass on both sides of the Ferrari as we moved slowly down a long treed lane.

  “Nothing for you to worry about, bella. The owner of this estate is particular about his privacy. I was just reassuring his man that you wouldn’t be sneaking back here once it’s over.”

  That definitely wouldn’t be happening since I had no idea where on Long Island we even were.

  “So who is this owner? Someone at Covet?”

  “No. And I can’t tell you his name. I can tell you that you’ll experience all sorts of new things tonight.” He slid those sinful eyes my way once more. “New and exhilarating things.”

  My heart
beat faster with a mixture of fear and unease, but before I could ask just what he meant by that, the road parted and three enormous fountains came into view, followed by the biggest mansion I’d ever seen.

  “Oh my,” I muttered as my eyes widened.

  Gio chuckled and turned the car to the right, following the drive. “Not something you see every day in Idaho?”

  “Not at all.” I’d seen plenty of big houses at home, mostly up in Coeur d’Alene, the ritziest part of the state, but they all paled in comparison to this.

  The drive swept past the three towering fountains, each shooting water at least twenty feet into the air from marble statues of naked women. Tall, Old World iron lampposts illuminated the oval drive on both sides. Past the last fountain, the ground dropped away to reveal a sunken, illuminated courtyard with mesmerizing tile work set around another naked marble statue. But the focus was the mansion at the end of the drive, complete with turrets and steep roofs and finial spires that looked as if they reached all the way to the stars.

  “Wow.” I couldn’t find another word to fit what I was seeing.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?”

  Impressive was an understatement. “I feel like I just stepped into the pages of The Great Gatsby.”

  “You may feel more than that soon.” He pulled to a stop in front of the mansion and twisted around to reach for something from the backseat. “Here, put this on.”

  I tore my gaze from the mansion and looked at the item in his hand. “A mask?”

  “A Venetian mask. Requirement for the party.”

  The eye mask was like nothing I’d ever seen. It was purple, made of superlight filigree metal, and adorned with Swarovski crystals and purple gems. One side was sparkly with black flourishes and swirls. The other half was an elaborate butterfly wing that didn’t just cover half the eye mask itself but the right cheek and jawline of the wearer’s face.

  I fingered what I knew was an expensive mask and glanced toward Gio, watching as he pulled on his own mask. His wasn’t purple but red, and where mine hid mostly my eyes, his covered his nose and the entire top part of his face, peaking at two horns above what I recognized as the devil’s amused expression.

  His lips curved in a smile that matched the mask perfectly. “What do you think?”

  “I think that’s pretty fitting.”

  “Put yours on, and we’ll go.”

  I wasn’t sure about this, but I slid the mask on, tied the ribbons behind my head, and adjusted the eye holes so I could see. The door beside me popped open, and, looking up I realized a valet had been standing outside, waiting for me to don my mask before opening my door.

  Gio tossed his keys to another valet and met me at the hood. With a hand on the small of my back, he ushered me up the marble steps to the enormous gold—yes, gold—arched double front door.

  “This is an anonymous party,” he said softly in my ear. “No one uses real names. For tonight, you’re Molly.”

  “And what’s your name tonight?”

  “Mike.”

  “Mike and Molly. Like the TV show?”

  He grinned down at me in the devil mask. “Of course.”

  If he was trying to put me at ease, it didn’t work. He did not look like the kind of guy who watched American sitcoms. But the minute I stepped into the palatial mansion, the questions died on my lips and my mouth fell open.

  The inside was even grander than the outside. Soaring ceilings, intricate crown moldings, marble floors, glittering chandeliers, and the biggest staircase I’d ever seen, sweeping up to the second level like something straight out of Cinderella’s castle.

  “Come on.” Gio took my hand and pulled me through an arched doorway to the left

  I wasn’t comfortable with his touch, and I was just about to pull back from his hand when we moved down into a sunken living room packed with people. The protest faded from my lips as I looked around. The living room was as big as a gymnasium, stretching from the front to the back of the house, with enormous windows that looked out over the Long Island Sound and the twinkling lights of Manhattan beyond.

  “Wow,” I said again, trying not to be completely flabbergasted but failing miserably.

  Chuckling, Gio pulled me around a trio of women, each holding fancy-looking drinks and chatting. The women glanced my way, and even with their masks, I could see they were sizing me up—along with my outfit.

  “This place is pretty amazing,” Gio said. “I’ll give you a tour after we get a drink.”

  I tore my gaze from the women and looked around again. I definitely wanted a tour. I felt as if I was in the middle of a dream. Someone owned this house—someone lived here. I couldn’t believe the amount of wealth and affluence around me.

  My gaze drifted over the sea of faces and the small groups of people chatting and laughing as Gio drew me toward a bar set up in the far corner of the room near the towering windows. Men were dressed in expensive slacks and crisp dress shirts. The women wore spendy cocktail gowns in a variety of colors and towering heels. I didn’t spot a single chubby person in the crowd. They were all fit and toned, looking as if they’d stepped off the pages of GQ and Covet.

  My gaze shot back to the trio of women we’d passed, none of whom were looking my way anymore. Fidgeting with the strap of my dress, I was suddenly glad for the mask. I definitely didn’t have a model’s body like them, and my dress—though it had felt fancy back at Laney’s apartment—seemed like nothing compared to the outfits around me.

  “Here.” Gio pushed a long-stemmed glass into my hand. “It’s a mimosa. I took a guess as to what you might like.”

  “Thanks.” Right now, I didn’t care what I drank. I was more anxious than I’d been when Gio had picked me up.

  Some kind of instrumental music seeped out of hidden speakers in the ceiling as I lifted the glass and sipped. A man and woman in masks smiled our way. With one hand at the small of the woman’s back, he ushered her forward, but his gaze slid down my body while hers hovered on Gio before the two moved around us toward the bar.

  Weird. The man had been checking me out right in front of his date, and she’d been checking Gio out in front of him.

  Shaking off the strange thought, my gaze skipped past the couple, over the other guests, and came to rest on a dark-haired man in black slacks and a white dress shirt whose face was covered by an eye mask that was black on one side and an antique white porcelain on the other, giving him the appearance of the Phantom of the Opera.

  He was all alone, leaning back against the wall, his hands loosely resting in the pockets of his slacks, no drink anywhere near him, and though I couldn’t see the color of his eyes, I could tell they were locked on me. Under his watchful gaze, a shiver raced down my spine, one laced with both fear and an excitement that came out of nowhere.

  Gio’s hand closed around my upper arm, and he turned me toward him. “How about a tour of the estate?”

  My skin tingled. From the edge of my vision, I could see the man in the corner was still watching me. But this time, his jaw was flexed beneath his tanned skin, and even though I couldn’t see his eyes clearly, I recognized malice filling his gaze.

  My heart thumped wildly against my ribs as Gio led me through the back of the house. Did the man in the Phantom mask know me? Did he know Gio? I glanced over my shoulder several times but couldn’t see him any longer.

  We moved through a massive library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, past an office, and into a great room that opened to a huge kitchen and spanned the entire back of the house. Even more people lingered here, laughing and drinking. Leading me through the throng of guests, Gio stopped to say hello to a few people but never bothered to introduce me. I barely cared. I was too busy looking over my shoulder for the Phantom, wondering who he was and why he’d looked at me like that, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  My hand shook as I sipped my drink again. I’d probably just imagined the Phantom’s reaction to me. I was no one in this sea of people. No one anyone
at this party would care much about, anyway.

  Long minutes later, I was glad when Gio pulled me out of the house and onto an enormous balcony that overlooked an English courtyard lit up around a central fountain.

  “Come on.” Taking my hand, he led me down a massive set of marble stairs to the courtyard below. “You have to see the waterfront. It’s spectacular.”

  Everything about the property was spectacular.

  At the bottom of the stairs, we passed a waiter holding a tray of empty glasses. I drained the rest of my drink, set the glass on his tray, and said, “Thank you.”

  There were fewer people out here, but music still echoed from hidden speakers, and groups of men and women laughed and chatted in the warm evening breeze as we moved through the courtyard.

  “This place was built back in the 1920s by a Russian industrialist,” Gio told me as we walked. “He patterned the fountains on the property after some in St. Petersburg.”

  “He liked marble statues, I see.” I’d noticed there were all kinds on the property—mermaids, Greek gods, maidens holding dripping jugs of water. Naked statues seemed to be a theme in this place.

  “Yeah, you could say that. The place covers almost ten acres, it has thirty bathrooms, fifteen bedrooms, four pools, three tennis courts, a full gym, even a lazy river in the lowest level inside.”

  “Well,” I looked up at him, feeling more relaxed outside where I could breathe, “who doesn’t like a lazy river?”

  We moved down another set of marble stairs that overlooked one of the three tennis courts he’d mentioned. A stage was set up on one end of the court, and dozens more people in masks filled the space, dancing to jazz music that floated on the breeze.

  “Do you feel like dancing?” Gio asked.

  I wasn’t sure what I felt like. I just knew I felt totally out of place. And I didn’t like feeling that way. I liked control. Specifically, I liked being in control. It was safer that way. I didn’t belong in this world, not even a little.

  Maybe Luciano Salvatici was on to something.

  “I-I don’t know,” I managed, not wanting to think about the Beast.