DARK ANGEL: A Mafia Romance -- Book One: Hunter, Hunted

  DARK ANGEL:

  A MAFIA ROMANCE

  Book 1: Hunter, Hunted

  A Contemporary Erotic Romance by Angela Jordan

  (13,000 words)

  Copyright 2013 by Angela Jordan. All rights reserved.

  Reproduction expressly prohibited.

  Contact Angela: angelajordanbooks@gmail.com

  Check out the latest romance from Angela Jordan:

  The Girl Who Wrote Erotica

  Book One: The Method

  Natasha’s the type of woman who knows exactly what she wants. She’s made a living writing erotic fiction – and all her stories come straight from her real-life experiences…

  She’s only got one rule: Never get attached. But when Jamie enters the picture, she soon learns that he doesn’t play by her rules.

  For a girl who’s not used to commitment, how will this love story end?

  Available now on Amazon.com! Click here to download!

  Hunter, Hunted

  Chapter One

  "Don't struggle too much. If you break free, all of this ends."

  The feeling of power that swept over me was euphoric when Brandon stilled his movements on the bed. He wanted my touch. No, he needed it.

  And controlling Brandon’s pleasure only heightened my own...

  I stopped reading, looked up, then hunched back over my book and read through the paragraph again. God, I loved these books. I didn’t tell any of my friends how much I loved to read erotic romance, but more and more often I’d felt myself turning to them on nearly a nightly basis. And who could blame me? They were more interesting than reality T.V., that was for sure – and in truth, they were the only books I’d ever read where I actually felt attracted to the male heroes. These guys were really the type a girl like me was looking for: rough, dangerous, sullen and brooding. And of course, the sex was always just as rough as the guys were. What I liked the most about these books was the power dynamics at play between the characters. For me, that was just as important as the romance itself – in fact, it was critical.

  I sighed. Where were these guys in my real life?

  Thinking over my recent sexual exploits, I couldn’t help feeling a little down in the dumps. Yes, some of my friends have nicknamed me as a "man-eater", but the truth is a little more complicated than that. In my mind, I'm simply a woman who knows what I want, and I’m not going to apologize for it. Truthfully, I'm what I like to call a serial monogamist. Yes, I do date a variety of men, but I'm still a firm believer of fidelity. With my unusual violet-tinged eyes, jet-black hair and slim frame, I garner more than my share of attention whenever I go out. Finding men isn't the problem. It's finding a man that keeps my attention that is the issue.

  And so, I'm still searching for the one. But in the meantime, I’m having fun with the men I encounter along the way.

  The men I date tend to be strong, self-assured individuals who challenge me in some way. I love a man who engages every part of me: mind, body and spirit. But my biggest problem, quite frankly, has been finding a man who can keep up with me. Once they realize the type of woman I am – confident, empowered and self-assured – they realize I’m not going to put up with the typical bullshit. I have no problems taking control of a relationship, and leading it where I want it to go. It’s only natural, right? But unfortunately, for some reason, the moment they figure this out is generally the moment that marks the beginning of the end. The guy I’d been seeing, Craig, had recently reached this point with me – the “point of no return,” as I called it – and tonight was the night I’d decided to do something about it.

  But, that was enough musing for now. Noticing the time, I put down my book and stood up, stretching. I was meeting Craig in an hour for dinner, and I had to think of a gentle way to transition him into a friend instead of a lover – if that was possible.

  I sighed. Somewhere in New York, there had to be the man I was looking for.

  …Right?

  ****

  Bliss Lounge was one of the hottest new restaurants in Manhattan. Even though it was early in the evening, there was a need for reservations. After I entered the double doors I went straight to the hostess, only to be told it would be a fifteen-minute wait and that my party was waiting for me at the bar. I thanked her and made my way into the posh bar area.

  The room was done up in various hues of blue, making me feel like I was walking into an underground cavern in some exotic water-world. There was a backdrop of cascading water behind the fully stocked bar and the a subtle blue lighting shimmered off of the contemporary styled chandeliers, making the ceiling sparkle like tiny stars in the night sky.

  I noticed several men glancing my way, but I ignored them as I looked around the bar for my date. I'd chosen a summer appropriate outfit for this evening, wearing a lightweight pencil skirt of charcoal gray with dark purple pinstripes, and a matching amethyst colored halter that completely covered my breasts but left my back bare. I finished it off with a pair of houndstooth stiletto heels and matching clutch purse that I'd found at a great little boutique a block away from my apartment in Soho. Though money had been a bit tight recently, I couldn’t help myself but to splurge every now and then on some really great accessories. Life was simply too short.

  I saw Craig sitting at one of the high-top tables towards the back and made my way through the small crowd of people until I'd reached him. Craig was a nice man – a great guy, really. Any girl would be lucky to have him. He was good looking, with stylish blond hair and bright blue eyes the color of a summer day. He was smart, funny, charming... essentially, he was every woman's dream.

  Just not mine, I mused to myself.

  Craig was an attorney with a large firm that I'd met through a mutual friend. We'd hit it off when I had attended a birthday party last month. I'd liked his take-charge attitude and dynamic personality, but over the course of the time that I'd known him, that assertiveness had seemed to wane. I didn’t know the cause of this change in him, but I didn’t like it. It almost felt as though I’d sucked the life out of him.

  This had happened before; actually, it happened way too often. One of my ex's had once called me a “tornado” – an unstoppable force that had stormed into his life one day, leaving devastation in my wake. I didn't mean to do it, I really didn’t. But somehow, my controlling nature tended to bring out the submissive side in normally powerful men. In bed, that was great – I loved taking charge – but in day-to-day life, it left me discontented. Maybe it was because I needed the excitement, the thrill of the chase. But once I got what I wanted, it wasn't what I expected.

  Craig got up from his seat as soon as he saw me, and he smiled in greeting. I turned my head at the last minute and his lips brushed my cheek instead of against mine. I could see the puzzlement in his blue eyes as we sat down. A waitress came to the table and I ordered a glass of prosecco and ordered a beer for Craig. That had started to annoy me, how he waited to see what I wanted him to order. As if he no longer had a mind of his own.

  We looked at each other for a minute or two without speaking. Conversation between us sometimes felt like a chess game. "This place is crazy," Craig said finally. "Maybe we should just skip the dinner and go some more...private."

  I opened my mouth to speak, but waited as the waitress came back with our drinks. I took a large sip of the sparkling wine to gain courage for what I was about to do. I didn't like hurting anyone, but it had to be done. As Craig asked the waitress about the menu, I looked around the room, taking in the various patrons in the bar.

  And that was when I saw him.

  Sitting in the back corner booth was a man
so strikingly handsome that I forgot to breathe for a moment as our eyes locked. Even from several feet away, the connection between us was potent enough to hold me fixed in place. I couldn’t break his eye contact, even though I was getting an uncomfortable flush from it. He was dressed in a gray suit, with a black dress shirt opened at the collar. With his black hair, dark eyes and strong chiseled features, he had the face of a fallen angel – dangerous and brooding, but with a certain handsome grace. The blue light in the bar highlighted his golden skin, making him look even more imposing somehow, as if he really were some mythical god come to life.

  A dark angel, I mused. I couldn’t take my eyes off him… But why was he watching me this way?

  Just then, his lips perked up in a slight grin at my wide-eyed stupor, and that cocky look finally snapped me out of my daze. Instantly, I turned away from him, focusing back on Craig, who hadn’t noticed my distraction started talking about the latest case he was working on. I knew without looking that the man in the corner was still staring at me. His gaze was almost visceral, and I could feel his eyes trailing over my body as if he were touching me – my legs, my thighs, my breasts…

  I shook my head, clearing the naughty thoughts from my head. I had come here tonight for a reason, and Craig deserved the respect of my attention. There was no easy way to do this, so I figured I might as well get to it.

  I put my hand on Craig's, halting him mid-speech. I held back a wince as he smiled and put his other hand over mine.

  Shit.

  I hated this part.

  "Craig, we need to talk."

  "Okay,” he said, oblivious. “Actually, me too. I've been meaning to talk to you about maybe going away somewhere this weekend and—"

  I pulled my hand out from under his and stared at him with serious eyes. Lowering my voice to one of command I simply said, "Craig." He fell silent instantly. I took a deep breath and continued. "There’s something we have to talk about, and you aren't going to like it. I...I don’t think this is working out between us. I think we might be better off as just friends."

  There. I'd said it. And looking at him I knew I'd just given him the verbal equivalent to a kick in the nuts. And... sweet Jesus, was he going to cry?

  I looked away from him, giving him a moment to collect himself and met the stare of my mystery man again. He was ignoring the three men at his table and giving me an inquiring look. It was crazy that I thought I could tell what he was thinking when I didn't even know him. I turned back to Craig and sighed at the lost look on his face.

  "Did I do something wrong, Karen? Please, just tell me and—"

  "No, sweetie," I said softly, letting my expression soften a little. "It's nothing you did. I've enjoyed the time we've spent together, but I just feel like we are better suited as friends now."

  "Don't do this, Karen. I think I'm—"

  I held up my hand. "Please, don't say it. I'll understand if you can't be friends with me, but I hope you know I still care for you and wish you the best. I'm just not the woman for you. You’ll see that in time. I’m sorry, Craig. I'm going to go use the restroom now. I'll understand if you're not here when I get back."

  I made my escape from the table, forcing myself not to look at my mystery man as I passed his table. I headed down a narrow corridor to the restrooms and walked inside. Taking a few minutes to check my lip gloss and my hair I waited a few minutes, hoping that Craig wouldn't be there when I got back to the table.

  As I opened the door heading back into the hallway I came to an abrupt halt. There was my mystery man, leaning one shoulder against the wall in a casual pose as he waited for me. His obsidian eyes locked on mine and once again I was caught. He straightened up and walked towards me. No, not walked – stalked. He was stalking me, like I was his prey.

  He was taller than I expected. I pegged him at around 6’3", and he towered over my petite frame by a good eight inches. I could see his muscles ripple under his perfectly cut suit as he moved closer to me. Crazily, I had a sudden desire to rip his shirt off so that I could see the beautiful body underneath. I chased the thought away as he started speaking.

  "Your boyfriend left," he said.

  God, that voice. His deep voice reverberated through me and set my pulse racing. Like a tuning fork, I was drawn to him. A twinge of guilt hit me as I heard the news that Craig had left – but even still, I could feel a weight lifting off my shoulders. I forced down the urge to grin, instead raising a brow at my dark angel. "He's not my boyfriend...just a friend."

  "Bullshit,” he said. “You broke his heart so he left. I could see that from across the room."

  I narrowed my eyes at him. There was no way he could have heard my conversation at the table. So, how the hell did he know that? "Mocking someone's pain isn't very attractive, you know,” I said, floundering for some witty comeback but coming up empty.

  His slight smile had a small dimple appearing on his cheek. Damn it, that wasn't fair. He knew he was hot, and he was teasing me with it even as he spoke.

  "I'm not mocking his pain. Simply enjoying my good luck that he's now gone. My name is Angelo DeSilvo."There was a pause as if he expected me to know his name, then he said, "This is my restaurant."

  I rolled my eyes. So that’s the card he was going to play. Well, if he was waiting for me to swoon at the news, he was sorely mistaken. “I see. Well, nice restaurant, Angelo. I’m Karen Blackwell.”

  "Well, Karen. Seeing as how your friend left, you might as well join me for dinner instead."

  I had to laugh. "Really? Sorry, I think I'll pass. I have to go pay my bill, and then I think I'll be going." I turned on my heels and started down the hallway to the main room, only to come to a stop when his hand landed on my arm.

  It was a firm hold, yet his grip remained gentle. Still, he had some unexplainable power that kept me frozen in place instead of lashing out. His touch reverberated through my body like 10,000 volts. What the hell was going on? I could feel my skin on fire, from the back of my neck all down my body – and, yes, a faint wetness growing between my legs. No man had that power over me; not usually. Though his hand was merely resting on my arm, it was like he was touching the core of my body.

  I looked down at his strong hand then back up to his dark eyes. He was frowning at me, and for some reason his frown made me want to smile.

  "Your bill has been taken care of."

  "Well, thank you,” I said coolly. “That was very generous of you."

  His brow creased. "So, why the attitude then?"

  I cocked my head to the side and studied him. He really had no clue. "You want to know the truth?” I said. “You seem like a man that doesn't have to work for it. And I’m sorry, but that’s not the kind of man I have time for."

  "Work for it? " he bit out. “For what, exactly?” He seemed genuinely confused. How to put this delicately?

  "A woman's… attention,” I replied. “I'm sure almost any woman in here would love to have dinner with you."

  "I'm not asking them. I'm asking you." I could practically feel the frustration coming off him in waves. There was definitely a connection of some sort between us, that was true. And so, I felt I could be completely honest with him.

  "Wow, Angelo. I'm here in your restaurant, so we might as well have dinner? Seriously? I'm so flattered I could faint." I softened the blow with a smile even though my sarcasm was hard to miss.

  His eyes searched mine. "You don't seem to have a very high opinion of me."

  "That's the thing, I don't know you."

  "Then get to know me." His lips curved in the first true smile I’d seen since I met him. His whole face lit up when it hit him, and all the rough edges on his features softened just a bit. God, you’re sexy, I thought, against my will.

  “Look,” he said, still holding me fixed in place with his eyes. "That wasn't very well done of me, I get that. Let me try again.” He took my hands in his own, and I felt absolutely powerless against the words that came next. “Karen, would you like to have di
nner with me?"

  I sighed. What the hell was I getting myself into this time? He had a certain playboy attitude about him, and I hated that. But all the alarm bells going off in my head were no match for the captivating allure I was feeling towards him. Dangerous or not, I couldn’t turn away from that – not yet.

  “…I’d love to,” I said with a smile.

  Chapter Two

  I felt Angelo's hand on the small of my back as he led me through the bar into the main restaurant. I was relieved to see that there was a new couple sitting at the table where I had previously been sitting with Craig. As we walked through the restaurant, several patrons stopped Angelo to say hello, and I paused with him to allow him time to greet his guests.

  Angelo slid his hand up my back as he spoke, so that his fingertips trailed lightly over the bare skin along my spine. I fought back a shiver at the lightness of his touch. He didn’t stop speaking, but his obsidian eyes flashed to mine for just a split-second. It was clear he knew what he was doing to me. I narrowed my own eyes back at him to try and communicate what I was feeling, but he’d already turned his attention back to the conversation.

  He was toying with me, the bastard – and I liked it.

  Angelo led me over to a quiet table in the back of the restaurant that ensured us privacy. He slid out my chair for me without a word, in a gesture that seemed to be utterly natural for him. With some other guys, this bit of politeness would be performed stiffly, more like an obligation – not so with Angelo. As soon as we were seated, a pretty young waitress came over to our table.

  “Good evening, Mr. DeSilvo,” she said, smiling shyly. She didn’t look in my direction.

  He grinned back at her. “And a good evening to you, Deanna. A bottle of Chianti for the two of us, please, and a plate of antipasti to start. Thanks, darling.”