Dangerous Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page B

feisty, but she was still a woman, and no woman could ever be as strong as a man.
    Not that he'd dare tell her that. Lucky would bust his chops if he ever voiced such a thought.
    He grinned, downing the Jack Daniel's in one fell swoop. His daughter, Miss Balls of Fire, the original feminist. And tonight she was being honoured. Tonight she was the most important person in Hollywood. His daughter. It was some thrill.
    The intercom buzzed and the doorman informed him there was a limo waiting downstairs. 'I'll be right there,' Gino said.
    And he wished his precious Maria were alive to see this memorable day.
    Meanwhile, in his house on Sunset Plaza Drive, Steven found his tie, put it on, stared at himself in the mirror, decided he didn't look too bad for a guy in his fifties, and, with a smile on his face, thought about Mary Lou and their conversation.
    Steven was extremely modest, having no idea that he gave handsome a whole new meaning. He was six feet three inches tall with a killer body. His skin was the colour of rich milk chocolate, his black curly hair only slightly touched with grey, and his eyes were an unfathomable deep green. Mary Lou spent hours telling him he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. This from an actress who mixed with perfect specimens every day. 'You're just prejudiced,' he told her.
    'You bet your ass I am,' she answered, with the sweetest smile in the world.
    Steven figured he was a pretty lucky guy. He had a wife he adored, who adored him back; the cutest little daughter in the world, and a whole new family. Lucky was the greatest: she treated him as if they'd grown up together. 'When my brother, Dario, was murdered,' she'd told him, 'I never imagined anyone could replace him. Then you came along, and I'm so grateful to have you in my life, Steven.'
    Gino had finally accepted him too. 'Gotta tell you,' he'd growled one day, 'never thought I'd have myself a black kid.'
    'Yeah, well,' Steven had responded, 'never thought I'd have myself a white Italian father.'
    'Guess we both got unlucky,' Gino had joked, and then he'd hugged Steven.
    Sometimes the three of them went out for dinner. To Steven, those nights were the best of times, special evenings that he treasured.
    He never thought about his past - the dark days when he was married to ZeeZee, a crazy, exotic dancer; or being raised by Carrie, his mother, who once worked in a whorehouse; and then there were the interminable years of never knowing who his real father was.
    He had good friends too. Jerry Myerson had always come through for him, even when he was at his most miserable and a real pain in the ass.
    Now he was content, he had everything he'd ever wanted and it was a satisfying feeling.
    His eight-year-old daughter came into the room. She was the image of Mary Lou, with her sweet smile, light brown skin, and cascades of curly hair.
    'Anyone ever told you you look exactly like your mom?' Steven said.
    'Daddy, you look sooo handsome,' Carioca Jade said, peering up at him.
    'Why, thank you.'
    'You're welcome, Daddy.'
    His daughter was growing up so fast. Surely it was about time they considered having another child? He'd been meaning to talk to Mary Lou about it. He wanted a son. A boy he could go to ball games with and teach many things - not that he didn't adore his daughter, she made every day worthwhile, but a son… Well, it was his dream.
    'Where's Mommy?' Carioca Jade demanded, tilting her head on one side.
    'On location, sweetheart,' he answered. 'She asked me to tell you to be a good girl and be sure and do your homework.'
    Jennifer, their English au pair, appeared. 'Everything all right, Mr Berkeley?' she asked crisply, shades of Mary Poppins.
    'Everything's fine, Jen,' he said. 'You've got the number of my cellphone if you need me. I guess we'll be home around midnight.'
    'Don't worry about a thing, Mr Berkeley. Come along, Carrie, let's get into that homework.'
    'Daddy, can't I watch TV and do my homework later?' Carioca