Lifting my wine glass to wash down the cream cannoli, my other hand tugging a strand of my hair, I shiver at a small breeze behind me as someone passes. I glance up, expecting to see the maid, but see instead the elderly gentleman seated next to me leaving the room with a puce-colored face and bored expression. Unexpectedly, an arm comes around my shoulder, and warmth envelopes me as a firm, hot mouth kisses me on the exposed skin.  

“Hey, Bambina, you okay?” Jake whispers, and ...