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Temptation everywhere.
There was post-run Roman, making a smoothie in the kitchen in nothing but sweatpants, his inked chest on full display, muscles flexing as he reached for protein powder or bananas.
Then there was King Roman, dressed in tailored trousers that did nothing to hide the bulge between his thighs and button-down shirts that hugged every muscle in his sculpted chest, pacing in front of the men as they strategized what to do next.
But late-night Roman was by far her biggest temptation. She would come upon him in the living room, looking tired and relaxed, the invisible fortress that usually surrounded him having evaporated right up until the moment he spotted her.
It was too easy to imagine sitting next to him in the dark, feeling his massive arms around her, pulling her close. Too easy to imagine the way his hands would feel on her body, the way his tongue would plunder her mouth.
Dammit.
She tried reading the paragraph again, then tossed the book aside.
She was bored. That was the problem. Not the fact that she still wanted the man responsible for detonating a bomb in the middle of her life.
She’d been stuck in the loft for two weeks, allowed only onto the roof deck, which was luxurious and expansive but hard to enjoy with Roman’s armed men lurking everywhere.
Worst of all, she hadn’t talked to Olivia yet.
She was dying to talk to her daughter, but she had no idea what Olivia had been told and her calls to Adam had gone unanswered. The last thing she wanted was to surprise Olivia at school if Adam had told her Ruby was dead.
And then there was the legal stuff. Roman had done a search of court records and discovered that in Ruby’s absence, Adam had petitioned and won full physical and legal custody of Olivia.
The document had stared her in the face, words jumping out at her as her vision had blurred with tears.
Custody had been awarded under false pretenses — Ruby going missing, perhaps being dead — but reversing it would force Ruby to wade into the legal morass of family court, and she had no doubt Adam would use her kidnapping to make the custody order permanent.
What judge would give custody of a small child to a woman who had invited a Mob boss into their home? A woman who had then been kidnapped by those same bad people (she ignored the voice in her head that said Roman wasn’t bad)?
Once those allegations were a matter of court record, they would be part of it forever, and getting Olivia back would be even harder.
She needed to be smart.
Still, the need to talk to her daughter, to make sure Olivia knew Ruby was alive, was a constant ache in her chest, one no amount of sleep or Vera’s delicious cooking could banish.
She threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood.
This was stupid.
She left the candles flickering in her room — she was just going to get a snack or a cup of tea — and headed for the hall. The wood floors were delightfully warm under her bare feet, the radiant-floor heating one of many surprises in the loft, which was well designed despite its sterile decor.
The TV got louder as she got closer to the living room, the light flickering over the large room that acted as the kitchen, living, and dining areas.
Roman looked over when he saw her. “Can’t sleep?”
“Not yet,” she said. “I thought I’d make a cup of tea. Can I make you one?”
It seemed rude not to ask.
“No, thank you,” he said.
A beer bottle sat on the coffee table, a bowl of popcorn next to him on the couch.
She went to the kitchen and started the kettle (it looked brand-new and Ruby couldn’t help wondering if Roman had bought it for her — she’d never seen him drink tea).
She followed along with the movie while she got a mug ready, poured loose tea into a strainer ball from one of the drawers. It was some kind of action movie, soldiers sweaty and beleaguered as they moved through a dusty arid landscape.
She poured the water just before the kettle started to whistle, then picked up her cup and started past the sofa to the hall.
