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Is this why he brought her here? A private show? Harmony felt a tinge of disappointment. Here she was thinking the man had deeper desires. Or was she looking for an excuse to act on her own?
     
    “ I’m waiting,” he said, extending his hand.
     
    The symphony that played about them was sweetly enticing. Harmony itched down in her throat to join in the melody. She knew this song, had sang it before. She reached for his hand then stepped into his arms, now humming through the intro. Other than Lewis, she’d never been in a man’s arms. She found Vincenzio Romano’s embrace oddly enticing. So much so, she began to relax. Soon she swayed to the music, singing softly into his ear. Her pelvis brushed hard steel between his legs and she nearly fumbled over a note in the song. Romano kept her close. When he gave her a slight turn through their slow rhythmic dance she caught a glimpse of the maid Mabel peeking in at them. The look on Mabel's face said it all.
     
    For Willie, everything I do tonight is for Willie, and a maybe a little bit for me.
     
    Her hand barely draped over his right shoulder, because of his height her arm had extended straight. The other hand was clasped in his. Their dance was gentle almost innocent. Almost. One look into Romano’s eyes and she knew his intent. Milo had been right, bargain with the devil he’ll take you for a ride.
     
    Romano’s large hands clasped her hips. Harmony forced a demure smile and ignored the pretzel tight knot in her stomach from having his hot palms pressed so firmly to her. When the tightness of his touch eased and his thick fingers smoothly slipped down and around to her rear, terrible regrets assailed her. She closed her eyes and tried her best not to react, having decided when she accepted his hand that she’d let him hold her. Instead she let her singing keep her calm. Romano responded in the like, he rubbed the side of his face against her cheek, with his body somewhat leaned into hers to keep her close. The gruff on his cheek wasn’t rough, the way she imagined it would be. The way Lewis’s cheek was.
     
    Harmony softened. So did the knot of anxiety twisting through her stomach since the moment she approached the mob boss’s table. Even the maid spying didn’t unsettle her. Nothing could touch her when she sang. When the record stopped, she continued to hum in time with the scratch-and-bump of the needle, having no need or use for a melody other than her own. It took her several moments to realize the dance should have ended. Lifting her head from his shoulder, she tried to pull back. But he held her firm. Their faces were inches apart, and she knew he’d see the blush cover her cheeks.
     
     
     
    Words he hadn’t spoken since he parted the shores of Sicily escaped him. He whispered them forgetting she didn’t understand his language. He wanted to stop time. Never in his life had a woman’s voice had such an affect on him. Silently he had craved her for months after the first time he heard her sing. He bought all the jazz records he could, trying to capture the calm soothing feeling of her voice that chipped at the iceberg in his chest most would call a heart. The first time he’d seen her she’d caught him by surprise. He had Madden brought to his table immediately to tell him who she was. And weekly no matter the commitment, he’d carve out time for at least one visit to The Cotton to see her perform.
     
    Once he had arrived and found it was her day off. Enraged, he nearly clued his men into his obsession. Now she was here, in his arms, and singing more beautifully than he ever recalled.
     
    “ That’s the tops, sweet,” he smirked.
     
    “ Thank you,” she whispered, swaying in his arms.
     
    “ I’ve watched you for weeks. Listened to you.”
     
    “ I know. I’ve noticed,” she said softly. “Thanks for the tips.”
     
    “ You knew they were from me?”
     
    “ I do now,” she winked.
     
     
     
    His chuckle came from a deep