Italian Stallions Read Online Free PDF Page A

Fabio, tell me about your business with my father.”
    The don took a long drink from his glass and refilled it. “I can think of far more fascinating things to discuss, Gianna, like how luscious your lips look. Are they all yours?”
    Gianna frowned. “Mine?”
    “Do you have them injected?”
    Gianna winced. “Lord no! I detest needles!”
    Tucci’s eyes drifted down to her ample cleavage. “Is everything natural?”
    Gianna adjusted herself in her seat, subtly jutting her breasts out. This was easier than she thought. Tucci was like a sixteen-year-old aching for his first blow job. Gianna’s eyes widened. Had she actually thought that? Holy mother, what was happening to her? Whatever it was, she kind of liked it. All of the sudden she didn’t feel so self-conscious in this new skin of hers. Quite the contrary. She lowered her long lashes and tested the water a little bit more.
    “I am as natural as wood-pressed extra virgin olive oil.”
    Tucci caught his breath and moved closer to her. “Speaking of virgins…”
    Gianna leaned forward, touching her right knee to his left. This was too easy. “Fabio, I didn’t come here to discuss virgins. I came here to discuss business.”
    Fabio smiled. The gesture lit up his sharp features and Gianna felt as if for the first time he was genuinely enjoying himself. “Of course, bella, business first.”
    Gianna took another sip of her wine, enjoying the warm mellowness of it and her power.
    “I met your father a few years ago at Golden Gate Fields.”
    Gianna scrunched her brows, her newfound sexual sway over this man forgotten. Golden Gate Fields? “The racetrack?”
    “Yes, I run several horses there, and, well, Alberto was quite the fan.”
    “But—”
    Tucci waved her off. “One thing led to another, and before Cappy realized it, he was deeply in debt.”
    “I’m afraid you must be mistaken. My father was not a gambler.”
    Tucci stood up and went to his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out several sheets of paper. He handed them to Gianna. She set her glass down on the table, and as she read each page, with her father’s signature at the bottom, her stomach became tighter and tighter. The wine soured in her belly. She was going to be sick. She looked up at Tucci. “I don’t believe this.”
    “It’s his signature, bella. Your father owes me one hundred forty thousand dollars.”
    Her hand shaking, Gianna handed Tucci the papers. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe my father would do such a thing! He would never jeopardize our future.”
    “It is unfortunate that he had this addiction.”
    Gianna’s eyes narrowed. “An addiction you encouraged!”
    Tucci smiled. This time it was not so genuine. “I race my horses for the love of the sport. Those who wager? Not my concern.”
    “But you do nothing to stop it!”
    “That is not my responsibility.”
    Gianna stood. “Neither is my father’s debt.”
    Tucci remained sitting. “I’m afraid that isn’t acceptable to me, bella. I expect you as his daughter and heir to see to his debts. I will take a percentage of Ciao Bella as a down payment.” Tucci grinned and sipped his wine, then stood and walked closer to her. He reached out a hand and swept her hair from her shoulder. He closed his eyes and inhaled. “You smell fresh. Wholesome. I want you, Gianna, and I am willing to pay any price you name to be your first man.”
    Gianna slapped his hand away. “I’m not for sale!”
    Tucci laughed. “Everyone has their price. Name yours.”
    “I want nothing from you, except for you to leave me alone.” How dare him?
    “There, you see? You do have a price. For what you ask, I want something in return. Your cherry. Willingly given.”
    Gianna moved to the door and turned the knob. When she jerked it back and it didn’t open, a hard shard of fear tore through her. She turned to face the grinning don. “Would you rape me?”
    “No,” he said, smiling. “I want you willing.”
    “That will never