Transgressions by Carolyn Faulkner (thriller books to read .TXT) 📗

for those who preferred to vacation at a time when they could avoid the crowds of tourists, and also for the convenience of those who, like Enzo, lived there year 'round.

Tanya Mendleson D'Agostino was one of her best friends—they had gone to school together—and she happened to be manning the convenience store her family owned and ran that was right off the dock. Ally didn't get to see nearly enough of her, so she stopped in on her way, both to chat with her and to ask her to make sure that the Wellington's skiff got back to them, if she would.

Bless her heart, although she gave her friend a curious look, she didn't pepper her with all of the questions Ally knew she was dying to ask—like why she was here so close to closing time, why had she "borrowed" the skiff of a next door neighbor she no longer had, why, why, why.

As she was about to leave, Tanya asked, "Hey, when can we get together for a girls' night? Maybe some poker or we could go into town to see those male strippers who are coming here next month?" Tanya shook and ground her hips in a hilarious imitation of any of the male leads from Magic Mike.

Smiling broadly for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Ally said impulsively, "It's a date. I'll get us tickets—can you see who from the old gang might want to go with us and text me with the number?"

"Definitely!"

They said their goodbyes as she slipped into the limo, having called her driver as soon as she'd docked.

Her second in command, Frank Antonelli, was proving a bit harder to deal with, questioning her more closely than she thought he had a right to about where she had been all night when she got in touch with him the next morning, and she didn't hesitate to call him on it.

He looked dumbfounded and almost angry at the rebuke but didn't mention the situation again, which was all she required. She'd chosen Frank from a bevy of candidates for the position because he was a bit older, reminding her somewhat of her father, and he tended to be very level headed and calm and had a lot of experience in the business that some might say caused her to lean on him a bit too much. But his reaction to her being incommunicado last night, even though it wasn't something she'd done since she'd taken command of the family, she didn't think, was way out of hand, almost smacking of something like jealousy, an idea that Ally found preposterous, dismissing it and the incident from her mind in favor of diving into the work that was in front of her.

He had to give it to her; this time, she was as good as her word. He got word the next day that the two guys who had thought they could set up shop in his territory had been taken care of in a permanent fashion, and he appreciated her promptness in handling that. He'd increased his presence where they had poached to make sure that no one else tried to follow in their unfortunate footsteps.

He also hadn't heard a word from Allegra. Not a word since that night.

She was gone when he awoke and had been for quite some time, judging from the coolness of her side of the bed. How had she left without him knowing? He'd called Maury, ready to chew him out for taking her home, but he told him that he'd been home in bed the entire time, and Enzo was inclined to believe him. None of his cars or boats or jet skis were missing—besides, he would have heard her start any of those. She'd managed to make her escape in what seemed like total silence.

It was a mystery and that kind of thing didn't set well with him, especially considering the intelligence he was hearing from his guys on the streets about problems at the highest level of her organization that put her in danger. The first thing he'd done when he discovered she'd fled, just to reassure himself that she was all right, was call the man he'd tapped to tail her and to whom he had given the night off because she'd be with him. He wouldn't make that mistake again. But even if he hadn't been hearing alarming things that made him fear for her health, Enzo liked to know how things worked, especially when someone had gotten the best of him. He'd envisioned a long, languorous lovemaking session and the lack of it had left him surly to the point of violence.

And beyond that, he wanted to talk to her—needed to talk to her. What had happened between them was so hot and unexpected that he wanted to clarify where they stood with each other. Relationships such as he intended they would have didn't flourish if there wasn't clear communication between both participants. And, most of all, he didn't want to fuck this up.

Not only was he pondering the how, but also, why she had left him. He'd thought the evening had gone really well—most especially the last bit. Even weeks later, just beginning to think about the time they had spent together—even the tamer parts—got him hard as a rock.

If he'd had all the time in the world, he would have tailed her, himself, and kidnapped her back to the cabin, only this time, he'd make damned sure she didn't get away. As it was, pressing issues had kept him much too busy to indulge such an impulse, unfortunately, but he did add another man to watch out for her, as discreetly as possible, of course. But she was never far from his mind and he let her know that in subtle and not so subtle ways.

And he was smart about it—he didn't send her a Rolls Royce or a diamond bracelet—she would have rejected both