Concealment (The Cassano Series Book 1) Read online

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asks, catching up with me.

  “I want to feed you, and you’re going to let me.”

  She mumbles something, but I don’t stop moving until we reach the valet. “Where are you taking me?”

  I hand over my ticket to the attendant.

  “The Stratosphere.”

  “Another competitor?”

  “Competition is good. It shows me my company’s strengths and weaknesses, among many other things.”

  My silver Aston Martin Vanquish pulls up, and after I tip the valet guy, I hold the passenger door open for Victoria.

  Her eyes follow the entire length of the vehicle, from bumper to bumper, before she steps inside. “I expected a classic,” she says before I shut her door.

  I chuckle as I get into the driver’s side.

  “I have them, but a valet attendant getting to drive one is a last resort. This car doesn’t meet your high standards?”

  “It’s amazing, and I think it’s cool you’ll let the valet guy drive this but not a classic.”

  Turning onto the Strip, I start the few mile drive to the Stratosphere. Victoria’s body is for the most part still, but her eyes wander all over the interior of the Aston Martin.

  Pulling up to the valet at Stratosphere, I help her out. “You know, I’m not dressed to eat at a formal restaurant,” she says nervously.

  “You’re dressed perfectly for where we’re dining.” And she is in her jeans and red tank top, which accentuate her more than adequate chest.

  We stroll inside, and I lead the way to Roxy’s Diner, which has a fifties theme. I glance to her when we reach the entrance, and she smiles.

  “Do you treat all your dates to this casual of dining?”

  “You consider this a date?” I ask.

  Her cheeks turn as red as the booth seats inside. “Uh, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. I know this isn’t a date—”

  “Relax,” I say into her ear as I grab her hand and squeeze it. “I’m kidding.”

  Her face is practically buried in the menu as I stare at her. “What flavor of shake would you like?”

  “Chocolate,” she replies without looking up.

  “If I buy you a shake, will you enlighten me on what you meant by the twenty-five cent shakes?”

  Finally, she peers at me and smirks.

  “I thought you were buying me one regardless.”

  “Touché.”

  She giggles for all of two second, cheeks reddening once again. “I’ll share what I meant.”

  The waitress approaches, so we place our orders, both getting bacon cheeseburgers, fries and chocolate shakes.

  Once we’re left alone, Victoria looks around the room and bites her lip. Her palms are flat on the seat of her booth.

  I can tell from the way her arms are stiffened, shoulders scrunched, this woman is wound up tightly.

  “I’m waiting for your story,” I say.

  “Right. When I was staring at the Belair, I was picturing a drive-in. Did you know they were opening in fields all over the country in the 1950s?”

  Her hand waves in front of her animatedly as eyes grow rounder. “I saw an old menu online, and shakes were about twenty-five cents back then. A burger, fries and shake combined were less than a buck. Unreal.”

  “That’s it? I find it hard to believe your fascination over the cost of a meal is all you were thinking about while staring at that car for so long.”

  Her fingers lace together on the table, and her eyes follow them. Knuckles whiten from the hold each hand has on the other.

  Hmm … it seems Victoria and I share something else in common. She only wants to reveal the shell. I get it. It’s best to never open the shell.

  But I have a strong suspicion there is a pearl inside of hers. A rare, exquisite being that no amount of money could buy.

  Victoria

  I’m blocking the circulation to the tip of my fingers, so I pull my hands apart as I look across at Adrian. He’s intimidating. No one intimidates me.

  “That’s privileged information,” I reply.

  His mysterious eyes challenge mine, but I don’t look away.

  “I can respect that … for now,” he says.

  While we eat, I regard the fifties feel of the room. Our waitress is in a poodle skirt, and paintings of old cars cover the walls.

  I sense his eyes on me, and I’m conflicted. Coming into this, I knew the goal was to get access to Adrian and gain his trust. Now that he’s having an effect on me, I’m not sure I want to go down that road.

  Finding what evidence I’m looking for through other employees would be less complicated, but it appears he’s determined to get to know me.

  I guess if I have a chance to spend time with him, I should ask him questions about his life.

  “So, Mr. Cassano—”

  “Adrian.”

  “OK, Adrian, I met two of your brothers. Do you have other siblings?”

  He places his napkin on his empty plate and rests his back against the seat.

  “I have another brother, Xavier, but our family calls him Zev.” Adrian glances away. “I have a sister, as well. She doesn’t live in Vegas.”

  “What is her name?”

  “Agatha,” he says with a cadence of sadness in his tone. Clearing his throat, he regains his composure and peers at me. “What about you?”

  “I have an older sister, Nicole. She’s thirty-five, and my younger sister, Sadie, is twenty-five. I’m more like my dad and definitely the black sheep of the family.”

  Now, I’m sad. I avert my eyes to a wall. Nothing makes me cry, not even the death of my father, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it. I’m also acquainted with the pain of how excluded I am from my family.

  “I imagine you’re close to your father then.”

  “Was … he died a couple of years ago.”

  “I’m sorry. I see we have something else in common.”

  “Yes, I guess so.”

  My father died in an automobile accident on his way to Hotel Submission. He was undercover, too, trying to bust Adrian for something, but he would never share the information.

  He said the illegal activity was paramount and would be dangerous for me to know. The car wreck was ruled an accident, but I’m going to finish what he started, so his death wasn’t in vain.

  “Uh, we should probably get back to the auction,” Adrian says with a smile, obviously trying to lighten the depressing mood I’ve brought to our meal.

  “Sure, and thank you for dinner.”

  He signals for the waitress to bring us our bill. We’re soon strolling to the amazing vehicle he drives.

  It took great strength not to show my enthusiasm over it when I first saw it. Maybe I should have. He’d probably like that, too.

  “I love your car,” I say once I’m buckled. He glances over and smiles.

  “Thank you. I do, too.”

  His fingers reach for the stereo knob, and I spot another small scar. This one is on his hand. I imagine him touching me again.

  Anywhere.

  This is bad.

  My gaze darts from his hand to his handsome, rugged face. “Is that Paul Cardall playing?”

  “Yes, you listen to him?”

  “I love his music. It’s relaxing and well, meaningful.”

  The corner of his eye wrinkles as if I’ve struck a nerve. He doesn’t say a word the rest of the way.

  I want to pick his brain, but if I ask too many questions, he might become suspicious. I must have patience, which isn’t one of my strengths.

  We arrive at the Tropicana and enter the lobby. Adrian still hasn’t spoken, but he grabs my hand again.

  Crossing the entrance to the auction, he leads me the opposite way of my seating, so I come to a halt, giving him no choice but to stop or let go. “What are you doing?”

  He turns and sighs as if he’s disappointed I’m not playing along. “I’m walking us to my table.”

&nb
sp; “First, enough with the handholding, and I have a perfectly good spot over there.” I point the direction of my previous seat. His brow furrows, and I can tell he isn’t pleased.

  The next thing I know, I’m being pulled back out of the auction hall, away from the crowd, and over to the side near a wall.

  Hands hug my waist as he pushes me against the hard surface. I scoff and move my purse strap snugly over my shoulder.

  Slipping a hand behind my neck, he pulls my head forward until our mouths are a mere inch apart. His gaze is lethal, serious as fuck, and I’m being dragged into a plight I never asked for.

  “Victoria, I want to be a gentleman, but your lack of cooperation is making that difficult.”

  “Please, you haven’t asked me to do one thing,” I snap. “You’ve taken what you’ve wanted.”

  His thumb grazes downward along my waist, and I tighten my abs, my body sensitive to his touch.

  “I’m far from having taken what I wanted. If that was the case, you’d be underneath me in my bed instead of here. I–I’m not accustomed to having to ask.”

  Holy fuck that was hot, and the look on his face tells me he means what he’s saying. Women must truly fall at his feet.

  “Sorry to disappoint, but you can’t seduce me that easily.”

  “I’m not trying …” Looking away, he lets out an exasperated breath. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met a woman who I had anything in common with or who didn’t come across as only being after my money.”

  His eyes are softer once they meet mine again, and I fight the urge to close them as I relish in the feel of his fingers faintly circling my waist and the space behind my ear.

  “Your company this evening is what I want, Victoria. It’s obviously your choice, but would you please give me that?”

  Dammit, I have a soft spot for him.

  “Fine, I’ll sit with you.”

  Leaning over, his temple brushes mine before his steamy breath does more than fill my ear. “Thank you.”

  Unable to control it any longer, my body shudders, and the hair rises on my arms. I swear I think I feel him smile against my cheek before he kisses it.

  Arrogant.

  He lets me go, but it’s short lived since he’s taking my hand again. He’s more leisurely with his stride this time, comforted by his win.

  It’s the strangest feeling to have my hand held by a man I barely know, especially by Adrian Cassano.

  Chapter Seven

  Adrian

  We take a seat at the round table, and a female server approaches us. Victoria orders a beer, and I get a scotch.

  Sitting on floor level, the cars roll out literally right in front of us. The look on her face from viewing the classic cars this close radiates pure excitement.

  She stares in wonderment, and I watch as she observes everything happening. It’s noisy, so I don’t try to speak with her. Instead, I allow her to enjoy the auction.

  I find simply knowing that she’s interested in it has me enjoying my time more. Her body responded to me when I had her pinned against the wall, so this all can’t be an act.

  When I saw her here today, I speculated whether or not she was in the same place as me on purpose. Did she even like old cars or only said so once she saw the photos on my office wall?

  Then I watched as she gazed at that Belair for ten fucking minutes. I knew she wasn’t here for me.

  A 1969 Chevrolet Camaro drives into the circle, and Victoria sits straight up. She’s listening to the auctioneer and admiring the red muscle car.

  Cheeks shade to pink and then even darker as her lips twitch from a smile trying to break free. Damn, she’s sexy, and what the hell is making her blush like that?

  I lean over, and she struggles to pull her eyes away to look at me. “Do you like the Camaro?” I ask.

  “Yes, I love it. I’d buy it today if I could afford it.”

  “What is it about this one?”

  Her smile broadens, and a touch of mischief shadows her green eyes as she leans in closer.

  “You don’t have to go looking for trouble with that car, Adrian. It can happen inside it.”

  Fuck. Not only is there a badass detective hiding behind the timid server, Vicky Stuart, but one who wishes to behave badly.

  I’m compelled to know the real Victoria Hart. I’ll buy that damn car, so she can show me precisely how she wishes to misbehave.

  Victoria

  After the event, Adrian asks me to wait for him while he converses with a few gentleman, so I stay seated.

  I can’t lie; the VIP section at an auto auction is incredible. You’re right in the middle of the action. It’s exciting to watch the bidding war, waiting to see what price a vehicle will sell for.

  When I could feel Adrian’s eyes on me, it was difficult to pay attention. Otherwise, I was lost in the moment, imagining how excited my dad would’ve been to sit this close.

  He would’ve loved it, and I could picture him smiling the entire time. I realize I’m staring at Adrian while he speaks to the three men.

  He’s swiping his phone as if he’s looking for something, his forehead creased as he concentrates.

  Pulling out a business card from his wallet, he gives it to one of them before they’re shaking hands and parting ways.

  He strides toward me, his gaze intense, and I’m panicked over how I’m going to get away from him tonight.

  He holds his hand out to me.

  “Ready?”

  Smiling, I take it but only until I rise.

  “Thank you for today. I’ve enjoyed it.”

  “I’ll escort you to your car.”

  “I don’t have a vehicle here. I rode the bus.”

  “Then I’m taking you home.”

  “I’m capable of getting there safely on my own,” I say with clear frustration.

  “Will you humor me please?”

  The same irritated, confused look he was exhibiting when he had me pinned to the wall is on his face.

  “OK, fine.”

  Within minutes, we’re in his Aston Martin, pulling onto the Strip. Soothing music comes on, and we’re both quiet. I loved the noisy chaos of the auction, but this is nice, too.

  It’s odd how Adrian will seem overbearing, as if he’s known me forever, and then withdraw in an instant.

  His hand tightens its grip on the steering wheel, and he drags his bottom lip through his teeth. I tell him when and where to turn, and he stays silent.

  We pull in front of my apartment building. It’s an address I’d rather he not know, but I wasn’t getting around it.

  He’s out of the car before I can speak. My door opens, and his scarred but well-groomed hand reaches out to me. I take it and climb out, stepping aside for him to shut the door.

  “Thank you again for today. It was exciting to be that close to the action.”

  “You’re exciting, Victoria.” He takes a step forward, forcing me back against the car.

  His dark eyebrows hood his matching eyes, but the moonlight illuminates his unmistakable lust as he stares at me intently. “Let me see you away from the casino.”

  Looking to the ground, I barely shake my head no, unconvincing even to myself. He steps forward once more, and I lean my upper body back. He keeps coming at me until we’re pressed together.

  “I shouldn’t be against this car. It might get scratched.”

  “Your body against mine is worth it.”

  Turning my head away, I look down the noisy city road. His fingers clasp my chin, pulling it back to him.

  “No, Adrian, you shouldn’t get close to me. Trust me on this.”

  “I want to, and if you haven’t figured it out yet, I take what I want.” His gaze sinks to my lips, heat teasing me from his sizzling breath.

  He stares at them, likely contemplating, but he proves his point when his head drops and mouth skims along my jawline to my ear.

  “Damn, you smell sensational,” he utters. Hands shove into my hair before he’s
leaning my head back to kiss his way down my neck.

  I swallow against his lips and grab hold of his slender waist. His erection pushes against me, eliciting a whimper from my throat. This is so wrong. Why am I always breaking the rules?

  His wet mouth dips into the hollow space above my chest before he’s skimming it back up to my ear.

  “Maybe I need you to get to know me,” he murmurs. “Let me see you tomorrow.”

  I should absolutely say no, but I don’t want to. “OK, but I’m not sleeping with my boss.”

  He rises, allowing me to do the same.

  “Who said anything about sleeping?” he showcases his charm with a smirk. “I’m taking you for a drive.”

  “Oh.” I push lightly against him, motioning for him to let me out of his hold. “What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up at two.” He appears reluctant as he steps aside.

  “I’ll see you then. Goodnight, Adrian.”

  “Goodnight, Victoria.” Taking hold of my shoulder, he softly kisses my cheek. When he lets me go, I’m disappointed, unable to recall ever desiring a man’s touch more than I want his.

  Chapter Eight

  Adrian

  I’m excited for Victoria to see this ride. I think she’s going to like it. After pulling up in front of her apartment, I stare at the building, curious as to why in hell she lives here. They must pay cops less than I thought.

  It’s two-story brick and seems more like a motel from the way all the doors and stairwells are visible from the street. There is minimal landscaping and a small parking lot off to the side.

  Before I can get out, she exits one of the ground floor apartments and starts down the walkway. Brown hair the shade of chestnut falls over her shoulders as she looks to the ground.

  Realizing I’m still in the car admiring her, I jump out and hurry around to the passenger side. Upon seeing the vehicle, her head shakes at me.

  “I take it this is yours?”

  “Yes, what do you think?”

  “A black 1969 Ford Boss 429 Mustang in obvious mint condition,” she says as she looks it over. Her hands are resting on the hips of her snug, white jeans.

  “I think you’re spoiled.” She giggles and covers her mouth, looking shocked by her own comment.