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“Why doesn’t he have a manager?” There had to be a story if he was as good as Pop said, and there was no reason to believe he wasn’t.
“Said he doesn’t want one.”
I shrugged. If Pop could get him and wanted him to fight, he could start with me.
“Hey, Rome, isn’t that the professor who was screwing the senator’s daughter?” Ash pointed at the TV screen where that bastard professor who’d had his hands on Riley was being escorted from one of the college buildings with some silver bracelets and a cop at his side. In today’s world, felony trumped tenure. In the crowd, Riley stood beside my mother.
The screen changed, and now Detective Hall was holding a press conference outside the office where Harrison had taken advantage of his students, and where I managed to plant the drugs I’d lifted from Riley’s bag after I secured her to the wall.
Asher listened for a few minutes. “Holy shit. He was videoing? What an idiot.” He shook his head. “I don’t care what you say, Roman. That detective is hot. A cross between Megan Fox and Jennifer Garner.”
“Have at her.” Maybe if she was fucking Ash, she would leave the rest of the family alone.
Asher turned up the TV volume. “Detective, is the investigation into Professor Harrison connected to the investigation of the dead girl?”
Katherine Hall smiled at the TV and Asher almost swooned. “Fuck, I want her.”
“Shut up. I want to hear what she says.” I waved my hand toward him.
“I can’t comment on either open investigation, except to say Mr. Harrison is under arrest and that we now have information regarding where the dead girl spent her last hours, and we’re taking every lead very seriously.” She looked directly into the camera, and it was like she was talking to me. “We’re speaking to a local club owner who has been guarded but helpful. We’re hoping he can provide more information.”
“Fuck, Rome.” He continued speaking as Riley walked in. “One of us is going to have to fuck the detective off this investigation.”
Riley walked past him and straight to the bar to pour herself a tumbler of Scotch from the decanter.
Pop nodded at me while I watched Riley. “Asher’s right, Roman. This detective has a hard-on for you. Could work in your favor.”
If I wasn’t already ass over eyelashes for Riley, maybe. And the thought came unbidden. Worrisome, but unsolicited.
Riley smiled and moved to sit beside Asher as my mother breezed into the room. “A special dinner tonight to celebrate Riley’s first successful mission.”
My mother knew damned well that Riley hadn’t succeeded. She’d been watching the same video feed from his office as I had. As soon as Riley walked down the hallway without me, we’d gone into the lounge and mother pulled out her tablet.
It had made my blood boil, but not near as much as when she couldn’t open the drawer and drop the goods. Then she’d let that bastard tongue her nipple. Thinking about it made me sick.
Riley downed her Scotch and directed her attention to Asher. “Would you get me another?” And she rested her hand on his arm. She was playing games again. Immature, high school games.
Asher glanced at me and cocked a brow. He knew how things in this house worked.
I shook my head. “No. We need to talk.” I shot her a no-nonsense glare, and she smiled. “Alone.”
When she didn’t move, my father nodded at my mother. “Come, dear. Let’s give them a moment.” When Ash didn’t move, Pop snapped his fingers at him. “You, too.”
I waited until my mother pulled the door shut behind them, then sighed. “Jealousy isn’t attractive or acceptable, Riley. I won’t have it.”
“I won’t have it.” She mimicked me in a high-pitched baby voice. “You’re not my boss, Roman.”
I advanced and hauled her to her feet. “You’re already on your second strike, Riley.”
“Second?” She tilted her head, and I kissed a trail from her earlobe to her shoulder.
“Mission failure. Strike one.” I loved the taste of her skin, but there was a behavior to adjust. Sex could come later. I led her through the study into a back hall and up the stairs to our room.
She didn’t struggle because she thought we were going to have sex. And it was possible. But first, we had to work out this issue of hers.
When we were inside, she sat on the bed, and kicked one leg over the other. “And the second?”
“You let that fucking professor touch you.” I hated even saying the words.
