Never Dare a Tycoon by Elizabeth Lennox

He hadn’t been able to find out anything about her. Not even her phone number. There wasn’t a listed or unlisted Antonia Attracelli anywhere in the Washington Metropolitan area.
Tonight, perhaps he’d get some information.
    Two hours later, Brett felt her lean more heavily against him. They were standing in a small group of people talking about the weather and politics in general when Brett looked down to find that the champagne had finally hit. Instead of becoming drunk, she slowly started fading. He noticed the fatigue in her eyes and the relaxed stance.
    Excusing them both from the group, he put an arm around Antonia’s waist and guided her back to her family. “I’m going to get her home. Could you hand me her shawl and purse?”
    Sal obliged. Nodding at Brett, he watched the man guide his sister out of the ballroom and into the night. Oddly, he didn’t feel the slightest bit of anxiousness at the idea of his baby sister leaving with Hancock.
Thomas, Carlo, Michael and Giuseppe all moved closer to Sal, five sets of eyes watching as the tall man guided their sister out of the ballroom.
     
Thomas finally voiced what all of them were thinking. “Are you sure she’s safe with him?”
     
“She’s safe,” Sal said. “Hancock and I have an understanding.”
     
“What’s that?” Carlo asked. Sal looked at his four younger brothers. “If he hurts her, he deals with us.”
     
The other four men nodded in agreement, then turned back to the party, confident that Sal’s unspoken warning was enough to protect their little sister.
    Brett handed a few bills to the valet, then picked Antonia up and carefully placed her in his car, knowing she was about to fall asleep. Coming around to the driver’s side, he worried that she was too far gone to give him directions to her house.
    He pulled away down the street slightly, out of sight of the building and its current occupants. He then tried to wake Antonia up to ask her where she lived. When she just pushed his hands away, he gave up and took her purse off her shoulder. Looking at her driver’s license, he shook his head, not believing that she actually lived at the address on it.
He drove to it anyway, thinking it might not be as bad as he suspected.
     
He arrived at her apartment and was able to wake her up enough to get her to focus. “Antonia, is this your building?” he asked, holding her head gently.
     
“Yes,” she said sleepily. “Fifth floor. Thanks for the ride.” After that, Antonia turned and curled up more comfortably in the soft leather seat.
     
Brett shook his head. She was out.
     
Sighing, he went around to the passenger side and lifted her up. She barely weighed anything, he thought as he carried her into the building.
    Then he reached the lobby and read the note on the front of the elevators which claimed all of them were out of service. With no other alternative, Brett carried Antonia up the stairs. She got heavier and heavier with each flight.
    Once he was standing in front of her doorway, Brett set her down and leaned her against the doorjamb while he searched through her purse for her keys. Finding them, he unlocked the door, then carried her through the darkened apartment.
He found the sofa the old-fashioned way, by running into it. Swallowing a curse, he put Antonia down on the sofa and found the lights.
    When he turned around, he was astonished by the relatively large apartment. The furnishings were nice but not top rate. It was the smaller items scattered about that were real gems. She apparently collected tapestry pillows, wicker baskets, which added a homey effect, and old, black-and-white photographs, all displayed in intricately carved frames.
    He shook her gently to wake her up since she’d fallen asleep again on the sofa. When she didn’t respond except to push his hands away and yawn deeply, Brett resigned himself to his task. He lifted her up and carried her into what he assumed was the bedroom.
    Again, he was struck by