Now Or Never (Erotic Romance) Book 2 (The DeLuca Brothers)
Read Now Or Never (Erotic Romance) Book 2 (The DeLuca Brothers) Online
Authors: Lucinda DuBois
Tags: #contemporary romance
Now or Never
DeLuca Brothers Book 2 - Anthony
by Lucinda DuBois
PUBLISHED BY:
Lucinda DuBois
Copyright © 2013
All
rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be
copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise,
without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. All
characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's
imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Everyone in the
city knew that there were two very separate DeLuca families even though they
were connected by blood. One was a family of five boys, four of whom had
followed in their parents' honest, hard-working footsteps. The eldest, Frank,
was a multi-millionaire businessman. Vincent was an FBI agent, as clean as they
came and on the path to big things. The next to youngest was Sergio,
pediatrician and known ladies' man. The youngest, known to everyone but Mrs.
DeLuca as Sal, hadn't yet decided what he wanted to do with his life, but he
was such a sweet kid that no one doubted he would do something as equally
productive as his older brothers. At least, three of his four brothers.
Thirty-three
year-old Anthony DeLuca was the odd one out, the black sheep of the family. He
was the second oldest of Maria and Angelo's children, and the only one of them
who was involved with the
other
DeLuca family. The one that consisted of
his father's siblings.
Angelo DeLuca
had broken away from the rest of his family when he'd met and married the
deeply religious Maria Russo. He'd remained friendly with his brothers, Marco
and Ciro, as well as his sister, Silvia, but he'd always made it very clear
that his children were off-limits for the family business. When Angelo died,
however, everything changed.
By thirteen,
Anthony had chafed under his big brother's fathering attempts for five years
and had grown tired of it. Against the wishes of everyone in his life, one
afternoon, he'd snuck out of the house and headed down to Rizzo's. There were
two bars in the city that the DeLucas frequented. Delancy's was where Angelo
had worked on occasion and where his boys had gone for solace after his death.
Rizzo's, however, was the hub of business for the other part of the family.
It was to this
other side of the family that Anthony had gone when he finally decided that
he'd had enough. At such a young age, he'd known that he never should have been
able to get inside, but one look at him and no one had said a word. It hadn't really
been much of a surprise to him. Even though he'd seen that side of the family
very infrequently over the past thirteen years, he'd known that they would
recognize him. Even as a teenager, he'd had rugged good looks – thick jet-black
hair and rich brown eyes – the kind of looks that would only improve from
adolescence to adulthood. He'd been the spitting image of his father.
Anthony's
decision had changed everything. Frank had tried to keep Anthony away from
Rizzo's, but it had quickly become clear that the only people Anthony would
listen to were his uncles. By the time Anthony had graduated from high school,
it had been evident to all that he would become a member of the 'other' DeLuca
family, the one that ran most of the lower east side. There was little in the
city that didn't have a DeLuca or two involved, and that included some of the
neighboring families into which various DeLuca cousins had married. Angelo had
once joked to Maria that the DeLucas were as good as an old-school monarchy
when it came to making peace through marriages.
As the oldest,
Marco was the head of the family, and he had a gift for putting each member
into the job that was the perfect fit for them. He was the tough one who made
the hard decisions, the general public face. Ciro was the businessman. With an
MBA, he handled the intricacies of each little enterprise. Silvia, the baby of
the family, was the family's lawyer. With expertise in both business and
criminal law, she was the one to call if there was ever any trouble. Though
different in so many ways, Anthony could see a strength in his aunt that was
similar to his own mother's.
After Anthony
had expressed an interest in joining up, Marco paired his nephew with his own
son, Little Marco, and the two ran errands after school. After graduation, both
boys moved up to be the family enforcers. Bigger than his cousin by a couple of
inches and at least forty pounds of muscle, Anthony rarely had to do much
besides stand behind Little Marco and look tough. Unlike his cousin, Anthony didn't
carry a weapon and only used his fists when necessary. He may have looked like
a brute, but he had a respect for diplomacy. As he grew older, he realized that
it was this quality that had caused his uncle to pair him with Little Marco.
They balanced each other well.
With his
cousins, Anthony found an acceptance that he felt he never got from his own
siblings. He was particularly close to his three oldest cousins, Little Marco,
Gio and Lucia. The four were inseparable and Anthony had often wished that they
had been his siblings rather than his brothers. He loved his brothers, but had
always felt like the odd one out, as if they were always judging him. Frank had
assumed the role of the man of the house after their father had died and the
younger three had never balked at his authority. Only Anthony had questioned
and rebelled. When Vincent had announced his intentions to join the FBI,
Anthony had known that things would only get worse. Frank had kept out of his
business for years. Sergio and Sal may not have approved of Anthony's choices,
but they kept their opinions to themselves. Vincent had no such restraint. He
made no bones about the fact that Anthony was a criminal. By the time Frank had
moved to the West Coast, Vincent had announced that he could no longer spend
time with the family if Anthony was around. In the years that followed, they'd
established their own boundaries, ensuring that they'd never be put in a
position to have to choose their work or their brother. Unfortunately, that
meant that neither man spent as much time with their mother or younger brothers
as they would have liked. They didn't ask the family to take sides, though
Anthony sometimes wondered what would happen if they did.
Recent events
had just proven to Anthony that Vincent wasn't about to change. For the first
time in a decade, Frank had come home. Instead of setting aside their
differences and joining the rest of the family at the house a few days ago,
Vincent had met with Frank at Delancy's while Anthony had gone home. That had
been one of those times when Anthony wanted to ask Vincent who the real bad guy
was, the one who might have bent some rules or the one who kept his mother from
having all of her kids together at the same time. Unfortunately, Anthony knew
that all the question would accomplish would be pissing his brother off even
more, so he kept his mouth shut.
One of the
things that Anthony and Vincent had worked out over the years was visiting
Delancy's. The old timer's at the bar had been such a huge part of their life
growing up that it had become the natural meeting place, usually for the
younger two boys and one of their bickering brothers. Anthony and Vincent had
an unspoken understanding about when the other one would be around and rarely
ran into each other. For Vincent, Anthony supposed it was a way to keep in
touch with the neighborhood without risking his precious reputation. For
himself, it was a place to relax without having to worry about any of the
business of the day.
“Mr. Davis, can
I get another beer down here?” Anthony asked from where he sat at the end of
the bar.
“Of course,
Anthony.” The old man shuffled off to get the brand Anthony preferred.
That was another
reason Anthony liked to come here to unwind. In Rizzo's, he was an enforcer, a
member of the family no one wanted to cross. Here, Clyde Davis was genuinely
glad to see him and never behaved as if he were only being polite because he
was scared. One of the things that Anthony regretted about his joining the
family was that it was sometimes difficult to know if people liked him for who
he was or just pretended to like him because they were afraid.
He unfolded his
paper and laid it flat on the table counter. He'd missed the game last night
and had been looking forward to reading about it all day. He'd never been a big
reader, but he did like his sports section. He was so caught up in the column
that he didn't realize that there was someone sitting next to him until he
heard her speak.
“What was the
score last night?”
Anthony glanced
up, intending to just answer the question with a polite smile. Instead, he
froze. The young woman sitting next to him was in her late twenties and
absolutely gorgeous.
Her hair was
long, cascading over her shoulders in waves the color of butterscotch. Her eyes
were a smoldering smoky gray, lined with just enough eyeliner to enhance them.
Her skin was flawless, creamy and smooth. He couldn't look away. When her lips,
full and luscious, started to move, he couldn't help but wonder what they would
feel like against his mouth, his chest... his cock. He felt a rush of blood go
straight south.
Then her eyes
started to sparkle, the corners of her mouth twitched upwards, and he realized
that she was trying to talk to him.
“I'm sorry.”
Anthony's voice was gruff and that caused him to blush as much as his
embarrassment over staring. That alone was almost enough to shock him. He
didn't get embarrassed, and he sure as hell didn't blush.
“I was just
asking about last night's game.” The woman seemed mildly amused by his
reaction.
“Oh, right.”
Anthony felt stupid. He'd heard the question before. “Yankees won, four to
two.”
She scowled.
“Dammit.”
Anthony's
eyebrows shot up. “Don't tell me that you were rooting for the Indians?”
“Sorry.” She
grinned. “Cleveland girl, born and raised. I may have just moved to the city,
but my loyalty's gotta go with my hometown.”
“So you're new
in the city?” Anthony set aside his paper as Clyde made his way over to them.
He had to remind himself to be cautious. As much as the idea of picking this
girl up appealed to him, he knew he had to be careful about who he took home.
She nodded, then
turned her attention to the bartender. “I'll have whatever's best on tap.”
“Put it on my
tab, Mr. Davis.” Anthony still couldn't take his eyes off of her. It was going
to be hard to ignore the physical attraction if she wasn't who she seemed.
“That's not
necessary, Mr...?”
“Anthony.
Anthony DeLuca.” He studied her for any sign of recognition at his name. If she
really was from Ohio, she probably wouldn't know who he was. If she was
undercover, trying to get something on him or the family, however, she wouldn't
be able to stop that little flicker. It didn't happen often, but every once in
a while, some rookie would get the bright idea to try to seduce one of the
DeLucas into telling their secrets. It never worked but it also never ended
well either. Anthony knew of at least two kids his youngest cousin, Leo, had
fathered before he met his fiancée Lillian.
The smile the
stranger gave him was one hundred percent genuine, however, without a hint of
recognition. “I'm Cecile MacDouglas, and it's still not necessary. I can pay
for my own drinks.”
“A woman who
passes up a free drink, you are a rare breed.” Anthony relaxed. Or, at least,
relaxed on the business side. Now that he was pretty sure she wasn't trying to
play him, he was even more drawn to her.
Cecile took a
swig from her beer and turned on the barstool to face Anthony. “Maybe it wasn't
the drink, just the person offering to pay for it.” She winked at him and
crossed her legs. “You seem like the type of man who doesn't get told 'no' very
often.”
Anthony took his
time running his gaze over her, taking in what he hadn't been able to see
before. Cecile was about average height, which still put her a good seven or
eight inches shorter than him, but her body was anything but ordinary. She was
plainly dressed, but her body had curves that made him desperate to see what
lay underneath those worn jeans and the dark gray, long-sleeved shirt. He'd
never understood men who liked women who starved themselves. He very much
preferred the healthy ones who let their bodies be what they were meant to be.
Cecile looked like one of those. She also looked like she could probably kick
someone's ass if she wanted to and that just turned him on even more.
She took another
drink of her beer, seemingly unperturbed by his intense perusal. “I would tell
you to take a picture because it lasts longer, but I'm not sure I approve of
the things you'd do with it.”
Anthony raised
an eyebrow. “Aren't you Mid-Western girls supposed to be all shy and
backwards?”
Cecile grinned.
“Yeah, television and movies don't really do a good job of portraying people
from my part of the country.”
“Does that mean
I can't ask if you want me to show you around the city?”
“Oh, you can
ask. Doesn't mean I'll say yes.”
Anthony leaned
forward, all thoughts of his newspaper and beer forgotten. He could almost feel
the energy buzzing between he and Cecile. He'd had his fair share of hook-ups,
some sober and some not so much, but there was something more than physical
here. “There has to be something I can do to convince you to go out with me.”
Cecile slid off
of the barstool and walked over to the dart board. Anthony's dropped to her ass
for a moment before flicking back up. When she turned around, he could tell by
the expression on her face that she knew what he'd been doing. She held out the
darts.
“If you can beat
me at darts, I'll go out with you.”
Anthony stood, a
smile on his face. She had no idea what she'd just gotten into. He'd spent hours
playing as a kid and teenager. “I'll take that bet.”
“But what do I
get if I win?” Cecile looked up at him as he took the darts from her hand.
His fingers
brushed over her palm, sending little tingles of electricity racing across his
nerves. He took an unnecessary step towards her. “I think you can think of
something fun.”
This time, it
was Cecile's gaze that went from head to feet and back again. When her eyes
locked with his, the heat in them made him swallow hard. He'd never been looked
at like that before, not by anyone.
