Page 19 of Paolo DeLuca
Mr. DeLuca laughed. “And yet you end up working in my club.”
She put her hands together, settling them in her lap. Lyric shrugged. “A girl’s gotta live and pay tuition.”
It was the only explanation she had for going against everything her grandparents taught her about the DeLuca family.
“Did they also tell you that we were gentlemen and would go to the ends of the earth to protect the women who have our hearts?”
Damn, her heart. What the fuck can she say to that?
Lyric cleared her throat. “I don’t believe I’ve heard that one.”
This conversation was becoming too deep for her. Thank God his cell rang before she could become any more awkward.
“Excuse me.” He rose from the bench. “I have to take this.”
When he walked away from her, she could finally breathe. It was like he was this bigger-than-life figure who warranted the attention of everyone in his vicinity. She glanced around the room as women and men cut their eyes at Mr. DeLuca, just as she’d been doing most of the night. The man was beautiful and sexy as sin. Lyric couldn’t make out what he said, but it looked serious. Mr. DeLuca’s brows scrunched, and he looked angry. He ended his conversation and sauntered to Ms. Landry. The two of them were in a deep conversation, then she hugged him. Lyric gaped as he made his way back to her.
“How well do you two know one another?” she asked, expecting him to tell her it was none of her business.
“I told you, I donate.” Surprisingly, he offered his hand to pull her to her feet. “And I apologize that we need to cut our evening short, but I have some business to attend to. Can I walk you to your car?”
Lyric halted her steps. There he was again, trying to tell her what to do. Her hands moved to her hips. “Excuse me, but I’m not going home yet.”
Mr. DeLuca let out an exasperated breath. “Lyric, again, I need you to go home, so I know you are safe.”
“Safe from what?” Lyric outstretched her arms. “I’ve been coming to this place, rubbing elbows with these people for two years. Nothing is going to happen to me.”
This argument was getting old. Where did he come off thinking he was in a position to tell her what to do? They weren’t in the club; he couldn’t pull that ‘I’m your boss’ shit on her tonight. Paolo closed the distance between them. Lyric forced herself not to take a few steps back. She refused to give in to him tonight.
“If you don’t go home, then I’ll have to stay and make sure none of these fuckers leering at you make a move,” he whispered in her ear.
“What?” she asked breathlessly; he was messing with her. Damn, he smelled manly, like sandalwood or something. It was heady and intoxicating. The desire for this man coursed through her veins and seeped into every pore of her body. The vibration of his voice went straight to her core.
“You’re mine, Lyric, whether you want to be or not.”
She froze. What was she supposed to say to that? She took a chance. Were men leering at her as he mentioned? Lyric glanced around the room. If nothing else, to prove he was wrong and making things up. Her eyes caught several men who had a gleam of interest in their eyes. She’d never noticed it before.
She gulped, then swallowed her pride and let Mr. DeLuca lead her out the door.
