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“How do you know Banks, pet?” Her eyes are spitting fire at me. Her tongue is moving over her swollen lip, trying to brush away the sting. “Ana,” I warn, almost at the end of my rope.
“He was a beat cop that was called out to my mom’s when I was sixteen. One of her customers woke up and, since mom was passed out, he thought he’d give me a go.”
Her words are hurled at me and they wound, as they were meant to. I pull tighter on her hair, not because she’s displeased me, but because her words light something inside that makes me want to kill. And I will. I will hunt the motherfucker down and kill him. I don’t care that’s it’s been over ten years. His blood will be on my hands and I will be the reason he draws his last breath. “Did he…?” Fuck, I can’t even say the words.
“No. Paul stopped him in time.” I refuse to feel an ounce of gratitude to that fucker. It’s not in me. “Until recently, I thought Paul was a friend. I looked at him like a father.”
I ignore the fact that she viewed a man my age, maybe a couple years younger as a father. I might be too old for Ana, but I’m not giving her up. Something else bothers me about what she said, however.
“Until recently? Have you seen Paul before today?”
“Until today, I meant. I’m sorry I’m just so rattled. He hates you Roman. Why does he hate you so much?”
She sounds frightened, and if she really cared about Banks that much, this had to be a hard blow for her, yet here I am, holding her. As guilt hits me, I let go of the stronghold I have on her hair and pull her into me, holding her close in my lap. I absently brush her hair with my fingers as I try to figure out how to put the things I need to say without hurting her further.
“You get that what I do might not be something everyone could handle. I deal with rules and laws outside of normal society.”
“Roman,” she starts, but I shut her down.
“It’s just facts, pet. I’m not asking you to condone what I do. I’m not asking for absolution. In fact, I love the fuck out of my life and things I do. It’s who I am. But some people might view me as slime, as the dregs of society. If I’m that, then Paul is worse. He has no honor even towards the laws in my world. He’s a bottom dweller, pure and simple, and the world would be a much better place if he had a bullet put in him.”
Her body tenses up and she tries to pull away. I know that I let my hate for Banks overrule my tongue. I didn’t go softly, not even a little bit.
“But Roman, he’s a cop. He’s devoted his life to—”
“This ain’t the movies, pet. Good guys don’t always wear white. Some of the lowest fucking men I’ve dealt with hide behind a badge.”
“You sound like you hate cops, but they keep the world from chaos. Without laws…”
I put my hand on her neck and pull her eyes to me. She needs to get this. I need her to understand. My world is the world she resides in now. She’s not leaving, so she needs to accept who I am—what I am.
“Men, pet. Men are human. There are good and bad in all of us, and I abide by my laws. It keeps chaos in my world from getting out of control and that world is yours now.”
“Roman, I’m not sure I want to be in your…”
I stop the words with a kiss, drinking from her lips in a kiss that’s sweeter and gentler than any we’ve shared before. Our lips move against each other, caressing. I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, pulling it with my teeth and running my tongue along the inside curve. Slowly, her mouth opens, the warmth and taste of her invading me and drugging my senses. My tongue moves in, seeking hers and dancing with it, trying to convey how I feel about her without the words. Words just get in the way. Ana and I have always communicated best through our bodies.
When the kiss is finished, she pulls back slowly, curls into me, and rests her head against my shoulder. Her arm goes around me and she holds onto me. It’s a simple gesture, but one I will never take for granted. Nothing about Ana being mine, can be taken for granted.
“Take me home, Roman,” she whispers.
Home. I haven’t had one of those before Ana. She’s home for me. I wrap my arms around her and settle back into the seat, counting the minutes until I can make love to her.
Make love.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ana
It might sound stupid. Maybe I’m the stupidest woman in the world. But when Roman pulls me in his arms and he kisses me… when all of this powerful, strong, and virile man’s attention is centered on me, I cave. I know what kind of man he is. I know what he’s done in his life. I’ve read page after page of all of the things that the DEA and FBI know Roman Anthes has done, but can’t get proof. So, maybe I am crazy. All I know is that I feel loved, cared for, and safer in Roman’s arms than I did standing near Paul today. Paul was the one who scared me and seemed out of control. Going with Roman and being with him felt… right. There’s no other way to put it.
Nothing about this case has turned out the way I thought it would in my head. Nothing I thought about Roman Anthes jives with the man I’m slowly falling in love with. I’m losing sight of my purpose. I’m supposed to be trying to save my brother. I’m supposed to be getting proof against Roman. I’m not sure I can do that now. I don’t think I want to do that now. And my brother, he hates me. He hates that I’ve kept stepping in and trying to save him. He hates that I became a cop. There’s so much bad blood between us, but I can’t sit by and let him die. If there’s a chance he’s out there and I can save him, I have to do it.
When the limo comes to a stop, I can’t make myself leave Roman’s lap. It doesn’t matter anyway because he holds me tighter and carries me from the limo. We don’t talk in the elevator either. I reach up and link my hands behind his neck and rest in his hold. It’s been a day and I’m emotionally spent. I don’t think I can take any more tonight. I will think about everything tomorrow. I will try my best to clear my head and plan then. For tonight, I’m going to get lost in Roman.
He carries me straight into our bedroom, placing me gently on the bed. He crouches down in front of me, pulling me around so my feet are on the ground and slides my shoes off. Once he’s done with that, he cups my neck and strokes his thumb across my cheek, a move so familiar that I’ve come to crave it, producing a feeling that I feel down in my soul. “I’ll be back, pet,” he tells me, and I have to smile. I still hate that damn nickname, but when he says it with that smile, I want him to say it again and again. This magic he works on me defies explanation.
He disappears into the bathroom and I flop back on the bed and breathe for the first time since Roman saw me talking to Paul. I have this urge to tell Roman everything. How would he react? It would feel good to come clean. I think what Roman and I have is real. He’d understand.
Roman comes back in before I completely convince myself. I need to think about it. What I’m contemplating has a lot of repercussions, least of all compromising my future as a cop and, ultimately, detective. I thought that was what I wanted, but now I’m not so sure.
“Stand up, pet.”
I look up to see Roman reaching for me. My hand goes in his and he pulls me from the bed. He turns me so my back is to him. The sound of the zipper on my dress sliding down is the only noise in the room. It seems unnaturally loud. His hands encircle my neck from behind. My pulse automatically jumps and a tight ball of desire curls in my stomach. He brushes his hands down my shoulders on each side, snagging my dress as he goes. The dress slides down my arms and cool air hits my chest as it falls to a puddle at my feet. I swallow because, as many times as I’ve been with Roman, this feels momentous. I don’t know what the shift is between us, but it’s there. He kisses the back of my neck at the base of my spine as his hands come around my sides to meet at my stomach. They fan out, following the line of my hips. His lips continue to leave a trail of kisses down the vertebrae on my back to the point that I know he’s on his knees behind me. The idea of Roman Anthes on his knees while worshipping my body runs a giddy thrill of pure joy through me. It s
ettles in my heart. It cements there, taking up residence.
