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interest in his sister’s business.”
    “Boiled down, he has more to gain by offing the old man,” Ricco mused out loud.
    “I don’t buy that,” Jase said. “If the rest of the family agrees, Anthony is heir apparent. His sister, on the other hand, would be toast if the family thought she was ripping off the old man, or worse, that she offed him. She has the most to lose. I’ll bet next month’s paycheck little brother gets iced.”
    Ty nodded in agreement. “Francesca had means, and, if the whispers on the street are true and Daddy was about to cut her out of the business, motive. And she sure as hell had opportunity. She knew Santini hit that restaurant on his way back to the city. No witnesses? How fucking convenient for her.”
    Reese shook his head. “I’m not completely sold. After what I saw in her office today, I wouldn’t put anything past Anthony Donatello. The guy walks around half-cocked.”
    Ty stood. He set a hand on Reese’s shoulder. “Well, then, my man, you have your work cut out for you. You were handpicked — hell, you were cockpicked for this assignment. I don’t care what you have to do to get that job, but get it. We need answers. There’s too much trouble brewing on the streets. Wiseguys’ll be coming out of the woodwork from every family in Nor Cal vying for power if this isn’t settled. A war is the last thing we want.”
    Reese nodded, the seriousness of his task settling in. He would take this case on as he did every other UC case. With emotional detachment and a bite like a pit bull. Once he latched on, he wouldn’t be shaken loose.
    Too much was riding on his successful infiltration. If he didn’t get in, not only would a Donatello get away with murder, but all hell would break loose over a power struggle.
    Frankie stood in line, her arms crossed over her chest and her right foot tapping an irritated staccato on the black-and-white tile floor. She’d spent too much time out of the office. She was sure Tawny had come up with more models. She was anxious to resume her search. The long line moved at a snail’s pace. At this rate it would be dinnertime before she got her latte.
    “Are you following me, Miss Donatello?”
    The fine hair on the back of her neck rose as warm breath caressed her skin. Although she’d only heard his voice briefly, it was imprinted in her brain along with the image of his cock. Reese Barrett’s voice had an unforgettable husky timbre. “Considering you’re behind me in line, I’d say you’re following me.”
    She turned around. Her hardening nipples scraped against the broad hardness of his chest. She gasped, the sensation electrifying her skin. His deep-set blue eyes darkened and his lips turned up in one corner, crinkling his eyes in a way that reminded her of a very naughty little boy.
    He didn’t move away and she’d be damned if she would blink first.
    “So, did you find your centerfold yet?” His warm, minty breath fanned her lips. She licked them.
    “I’m still interviewing.”
    “Stag
isn’t.”
    Frankie stiffened. An unexplainable sense of loss hit her. Had she made a mistake not hiring Reese on the spot? Had Sean beat her to the punch yet again?
    He brushed his chest against her straining nipples. Warmth pooled between her thighs. She looked up into his smiling face. Her stomach shifted. He had really long lashes. Thick and black like hers. His lips were full too. She liked the way they pulled to the left when he smiled. She imagined them slowly sucking and kissing the column of her neck, her most sensitive erogenous zone.
    Holy hell, what was she thinking? He was pushy and insolent. Dangerous. She’d made the right choice. Sean could deal with him.
    “Next!” the barista shouted from behind the coffee bar.
    Reese nudged her with his chest, propelling her backward an inch. “You’re next, Miss Donatello.”
    She could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t talking about her coffee order.

Chapter Four
    F rankie moved as far