Chapter 1

LUC

The waitress had that typical beauty I’d seen in most of the women in LA, the kind with effort behind it. She looked made up and was definitely appealing, but she was off limits to me. I didn’t need to be told what would happen to me if I were stupid enough to take a woman back to my apartment.

Just as the boss had Amelia followed and knew everything about her, he was doing the same to me. I didn’t know who was watching or doing the following, and I suspected I never would.

That said, it didn’t hurt to watch this fine woman’s ass as she walked away.

I took a sip of the wine and savored it. Mmmm. It was perfect and took me right back to my days spent in France, in Meursault itself. Until things had gotten so busy in Chicago, I would go there a few times a year. It was my main vacation destination, along with Italy.

Verona, Italy—for me, that was home, my escape. It was my refuge, the place I saw myself residing when I’d had enough of Chicago—that is, if I didn’t end up dead first.

With its beautiful vineyard, my villa was a place where I could be myself, no one telling me what to do, no expectations of me.

As I drank the wine, the fresh taste of apples and peaches mixed with underlying hints of butter and toasted nuts tingled my senses, and I mellowed. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, savoring the taste. When I opened them again, I froze at the sight of an incredibly beautiful woman being ushered to her table by one of the waiters.

My gaze drifted over her body, taking in her perfection. It had been a while since any woman had caught my attention in this way, a way that made me wish my circumstances were different. That was a woman I could fantasize about and indulge in if given the chance.

Long, silky, shiny, raven hair flowed down to the small of her back, the ends barely detectable against the black velvet dress that hugged her tiny frame and accented her curves in all the right places. Voluptuous breasts, so full and round, teased me, and those legs—God, I loved a woman with long legs, legs that could wrap around my waist with ease as I pounded into her.

That woman was what I called a goddess, one with the kind of exquisiteness and sass to have a man like me eating out of the palm of her hand, sexy and sure of herself.

The waiter was also looking at her as if she were some delectable dish. I’d have bet she’d taste exactly like that, and I couldn’t blame the fucker. My mouth actually started to water.

Then, fuck—my eyes turned to saucers when they stopped at table six and the goddess moved to sit in the chair the waiter pulled out.

I straightened up and narrowed my gaze.

Had the wine done a number on me? Had I allowed the temptation of this woman to lure me in so badly that I wanted her to be Amelia?

From where I sat, a good twenty or so feet away, I saw her face—beautiful, just like her body.

Something about that presence of hers gripped me. Something reeled me in, and I knew on instinct it was her. For damn sure, that was Amelia. The alcohol hadn’t done anything to me.

Still trapped within the call of temptation, I continued to watch her, glad now that I’d chosen this booth. It was in the perfect spot for me to do my own assessment of her, gathering the intel no file could provide.

At least I could tick the physically attractive box. I would have hated it if she were ugly.

I looked on but tucked into my steak, hating the thought of my food going cold. The last time I’d eaten was on the plane, and the food had been horrible.

I stopped eating, however, when a dark-haired gentleman approached Amelia’s table, leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, and sat opposite her. She gave him a sweet smile and looked him over seductively.

A date?

The last thing I wanted to contend with was some boyfriend type, and the file said she was single.

The man looked to be in his early- to mid-forties, but tough. His build and attitude showed that he took care of himself, and I couldn’t see his expression because his back was turned to me. I also couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the discussion had her blushing, or at least what I thought looked like blushing.

About five minutes passed with her looking like that, stroking the ends of her hair in a manner that turned me on and made me think of touching her all over in the same way. Then she got up, walked around the man’s chair while running her fingers over his shoulders, and dipped low behind him into a plié squat.

I saw the dress she wore had a slit up the leg, but I also saw something else—a flash of cool black metal stuck to the garter high up on her smooth thigh. I saw because I was probably looking too intently and higher than I should have as my eyes roamed over her body.

What I saw happen next, though, really shocked me.

In one swift move, Amelia grabbed the man’s hands and handcuffed them behind him. Taken by complete surprise, he tried to shuffle out of the restraints to no avail. Poor bastard probably didn’t even realize what she’d done to him. The way she moved, stealthy but sure and precise—fuck, she was like some damn ninja.

She followed up that ninja move by reaching for her gun and holding it to his neck, and by this time, the people in the restaurant had started panicking.

“LAPD,” she cried, holding up her badge with her other hand so those around her could see it. “Sorry to disturb your evening, but it would be wise for you to make your way out the nearest exit.” She looked around with authority. Everyone, including the waiting staff, shuffled away. I, however, stayed and watched.

She bent her head low toward the man and continued to speak, her voice loud and clear. “Talk—you’re wasting my time.”

It looked like the man was refusing to cooperate. She tapped the gun on his ear and ran it along his neckline menacingly.

As she moved, I was reminded of Raphael.

I didn’t know why I was surprised. This was his daughter, and the woman played the part well in an undeniable way. She had the same essence that harnessed power and showed others she was boss. It was her rules or you were dead, no in between, no negotiation. That was just the way it was.

It was true Raphael, and his daughter were the same.

“Talk. I’m waiting, and I don’t like to be kept waiting,” she barked.

I cut into the rest of my steak and ate. No point letting good food go to waste, and this was a good show. I wondered what she’d do next, because this bastard wasn’t saying a word.

My eyes widened when I watched her strike him in the shoulder with the back of her gun, anger filling her movements. The man yelped, but that was it.

Seconds later, three cops came in with their guns aimed at him. They were tough-looking guys who appeared to be ex-military. It was only when she saw them that she moved away from the man.

“Take him away—he’s not talking. This was a damn waste of my time,” she hissed at the tallest officer.

“You got him though, boss,” the officer said, chuckling.

The other two officers secured the man and ushered him away.

“Not good enough.” She frowned.

I wondered what she was after.

“You look nice in that dress,” the officer said, full-on laughing now.

“Don’t get used to it,” she snapped.

“I have an idea—how about you take a chill pill, or go get laid.”

I hoped not. If there was any laying to be done, it would be me doing it.

As I watched them go, I kept my eyes on her. None of them had seen me, which should a lack of awareness on their part. I could have been that guy’s backup, although I got the impression that wouldn’t have stopped me from being dead within seconds if I’d tried to help him.

I finished off the steak and stood up to go as a few more cops came inside. I didn’t want questions. I hated these people on a normal basis and wanted to limit my time with them.

This was all going to be very interesting indeed.

As I walked out of the restaurant, I felt me seeing that little show was no mere coincidence. It was what Raphael had intended.

Why else would I have needed to be here at such a specific time?

He wanted me to see her in action, to know what I was up against. He wanted me to know what kind of woman his daughter was.

It was a test, and I thought I’d just passed.

On to round two.

The task?

Becoming what I hated most—a cop.