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Dominic poured more mole over his tamale, cut a bite, then stared at his fork. Dammit.
Why was he keeping Lara locked up?
For her safety? Clearly not, since she’d be safer with him. They’d already proved that point.
Because having her tucked away would keep temptation at bay? As if he wasn’t imagining what she’d taste like naked, covered in mole sauce, with every bite he took?
Because he didn’t want her to know anything about his family? How fair was that, given that he knew damn near everything about hers?
Dominic frowned.
“I’ll bring her back for dinner,” he finally conceded.
“Whoa,” Lucas said, holding up a hand. “Dinner? You sure?”
Dominic rolled his eyes.
“You were just giving me shit for not bringing her to the house, now you’re putting up caution over her coming to dinner. What’s your problem?”
“Coming to the house, lunch in the kitchen, that’s casual. Dinner is the whole family, sitting down telling stories. You know Matteo is gonna do everything he can to make you look bad.”
Lara could probably match their little brother story for story on that topic.
“So?” Dominic shrugged. “Celia will defend me with stories about how awesome I am.”
He knew which of his siblings Lara was likely to believe, though. Dominic shoved his plate away, food barely touched. It wasn’t his looks or amazing sexual prowess that made women love him. Sure, those probably factored in, but he knew it had more to do with the simple fact that he wasn’t a jerk. He respected women. Respected their choices.
Except he hadn’t respected Lara’s.
Instead, he’d let his bruised ego have a poutfest, leaving a scared, terrorized woman starving back at his cabin.
“I gotta go,” he said, heading for the door.
“You’re really bringing her back for dinner?” Lucas asked, pulling the plate toward him to finish what Dominic hadn’t.
Crap. Food. He needed to feed her something before dinner.
Dominic opened the fridge, pulling out containers of leftovers and stacking them on the wide granite countertop. He grabbed a bag from under the sink and, not bothering to plate the food, slid all the containers inside.
There. She’d have plenty to choose from before they took off in the morning.
“I need your truck tomorrow,” he told his brother as he gathered the food and headed for the door again.
“Sure. I need it in the evening, though,” Lucas said around a mouthful of tamale.
“Gonna be tough. I’m taking it down to Coronado.”
Dominic didn’t wait to hear his brother’s protests.
He jammed the food in his saddlebag and headed back to the cabin. This route was a lot more direct than the one he’d taken a couple hours ago. But he’d been trying to hide his location.
Not from Valdero’s goons.
From Lara.
Could he be a bigger jerk?
Repentant and ready to make amends, he unlocked the cabin a few minutes later, calling Lara’s name.
Nothing.
He set the bag on the kitchen counter before striding to the closed guest room door. He tapped lightly in case she was asleep, then eased the door open.
“Lara?”
She wasn’t in bed.
She wasn’t in the bathroom.
Dominic returned to the living room, noting that her stuff was missing.
Damn.
He growled, frustrating surging through him.
Had she braved the bears?
Knowing it was entirely his fault, furious that his ego had gotten in the way of his duty—and of keeping Lara safe—Dominic cussed.
Trained to check and double-check, even though he was sure there was nothing to be found, he pushed open his own bedroom door.
Nada.
Before he could cuss again, Lara walked out of his bathroom.
Nude.
Blessedly nude and wet, surrounded by a cloud of steam.
“Damn,” Dominic breathed.
Rock hard and ready to roll, his dick echoed the sentiment.
She was like something out of a dream.
Or his hottest fantasy.
Gorgeous from the white terry cloth wrapped around her hair like a crown to the tips of her polished red toenails, she screamed sex appeal.
Sex appeal waiting in his bedroom.
Covered in water.
Dominic shoved his hands in his pockets, hoping the extra pressure would keep his erection at bay.
“Oops.” Looking as surprised as he, although a lot more horrified, Lara dragged the towel from her hair to wrap around her body. “I, um, I didn’t hear you come in.”
Voiceless, the image of her naked perfection still imprinted on his brain, Dominic could only nod.
He was a man who relished serving, who took pride in his career and worked damned hard to be the best he could. But sometimes it got ugly. It got dirty, depressing and disheartening.
When it got rough, lying on a cot in a tent in the desert or in an aircraft carrier berth on his way to a dangerous mission, Dominic slid into fantasyland. The fantasies were as varied as there were women. But one in particular always made its way through his mind: he fantasized about coming home to clear his head of the ugliness, to find peace. In his fantasy, he walked into his bedroom to find his fantasy woman. Naked, nubile and willing. Ready to make him forget, to heal his soul.
