Tempting my mafia brother -in-law: six months of sin
I made a fist as I stared up at him.
“Dante,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Someone will see us. Alistair—”
He let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Alistair is busy drinking his weight in brandy and bragging about his new prize.” He closed the distance in a few long, predatory strides, his shadow swallowing me whole, shielding me from the ballroom windows. I could feel the heat of his body radiating toward me, heating up my cold skin.
“This is the mafia, Julianna,” he said, his voice a rough rasp. “It’s dangerous. It’s risky. Don’t you know what you signed up for?”