Page 5

Okay, maybe a little.Catarina Bianchi was untouchable.A daughter.A rival’s jewel.Adorably untouchable.

She tilted her head suddenly.“Why are men such pigs about sex?”she blurted.

Sal nearly choked on his scotch.It took him a moment to process her words.Catarina Bianchi—the prim little princess of Enrico Bianchi—had just used the wordsexin the middle of a crowded bar.

“I’m…uh…not sure what you mean.”He tossed back the rest of his drink, as if the fire could steady him.

“Well, for instance—” she fumbled in her purse, tugging out her phone with the focus of a tipsy surgeon.Her tongue peeked out adorably as she tapped the screen, then spun it around with a triumphant flourish.“Case in point.”

Sal’s gaze slid to her lips—plump, soft, flushed pink now that her lipstick had faded.For one reckless heartbeat, he wondered what it would be like to taste them.But then a loud, unmistakable moan and a woman’s breathless giggle burst from the phone.

His eyes jerked down.Madonna!He nearly coughed as the screen revealed Matteo Caruso—very naked, very…unimpressive—floundering between two women.

A manicured fingernail tapped the glass sharply.“I just caught him doing this!”Catarina hissed, indignant.

Sal dragged his gaze back up.Her head tilted, those big brown eyes wide, accusatory, almost innocent.“According to this video, sex with Matteo would last…what?Four?Five minutes?”She wrinkled her nose.“That’s not very good, is it?”

Sal pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh.

“And,” she added, narrowing her eyes at the phone, “he’s not exactly…um… endowed, is he?”

Sal allowed himself a glance.She wasn’t exaggerating.Not in the slightest.He had to swallow a chuckle, tapping the phone quickly to pause the video.Taking the phone in his hand, he tapped out his own number.Then, with a flick of his thumb, he sent the file to his own phone before handing it back politely.

“That’s unfortunate,” he said dryly.His mouth twitched.

“So?”

“So…?”He leaned back, amused at her persistence and not exactly sure what she’d ask him.

“So why are men so obsessed with sex?”

Sal rubbed his hand over his mouth, hiding his grin.She wasn’t joking.She honestly didn’t understand.

“Well, I suppose…” He trailed off, aware of his men at the next table.Tony Mancini, his second, was shaking with silent laughter.His two guards had turned their backs, but their shoulders quaked as well.

“I mean,” Catarina continued, oblivious, “is it just a legacy thing?Is that why men do it more and like it more than women?”

“Some women enjoy it too,” Sal managed, his voice steady despite the laughter threatening to break free.

She snorted, loud and inelegant.“Nope!”Then she leaned across the table, narrowing the space between them, her breath warm and laced with scotch.“Do you know what the best predator in the world is?”

He arched a brow.He could’ve saidme—because it was true—but even he knew that might come off as a little too much.Instead, he held her gaze, waiting.The spark in her eyes told him she was about to surprise him again.

AndDio santo, he wanted to know what she’d say next.

“Dragonflies!”she whispered, as if she were revealing classified intelligence.Then she nodded solemnly.“Dragonflies have a ninety-eight percent success rate in trapping their prey.”

Sal bit the inside of his cheek.He couldn’t remember the last time someone had leaned across from him at a table and whispered about insect hunting rates like it was state secrets.His men would never let him live this down.

The waitress arrived then, looking far less bold than before.She set down an enormous plate of cheesy pasta and a heaping basket of warm garlic bread, then practically bowed her way out.“I’ll bring the water in a flash, Mr.Romano.”She spun on her four-inch heel and nearly sprinted for the bar.

“Oh, this looks really good,” Catarina sighed, then promptly pushed the plate away.“But I can’t eat this.”

“You’ll eat it,” he told her firmly.

“No,” she countered with the put-upon sigh of a martyr.“It’s too fattening.Too many carbs.”She slid a hand over her flat stomach.

Sal snorted quietly, then pushed the platter back in front of her.“You need to gain at least ten pounds,Catarina.You’re too thin now.Plus, the food will absorb some of that scotch.”