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“He has his own heavily armed men. And he seems to regard any kind of resistance as provocation.”
I remember what Romero said to Carlo earlier. “So he’snuts.”
“Crazy, or pretending to be. Though that may be a distinction without a difference.”
“How do you even deal with someone likethat?”
“What I’m hoping is that if we pretend to go along with the idea of selling, and open negotiations, we can use it as a stalling tactic while we try to figure out if he has any weaknesses. Anything we can exploit to distract him, discourage him, turn his attention in a different direction.”
“So he can screw up somebody else’s life,” Isay.
“He’ll do that anyway. This is not a man who cares about collateral damage.”
The rest of the drive passes in silence. When we reach the house, Carlo’s men make us wait while they check the house and the yard. The tradeoff for me staying with Romero is that his house is going to get a state-of-the-art security system installed, and security teams from a few of his cousins will take turns patrolling the neighborhood.
Just incase.
When they let us in at last, we go straight upstairs to Romero’s bedroom, set my bags in the corner, undress, and crawl into bed. We’re so tired that sleep pulls us under within seconds.
* * *
I waketo find myself spooning with Romero, my back to his front. He’s got an arm around my waist, his hand curled around one breast, and his erection is nestled in the cleft of myass.
A sleepy smile drifts across my face. Despite everything, it’s a little bit of heaven to be skin to skin with my man. I let out a contented sigh, and his lips graze my shoulder.
“Did you sleepokay?”
I turn to him. “Yeah, I feel better. How about you?” His eyes go amber. “Oh, I see. You’re feeling a lot better.”
“Uh-huh.” He nudges me onto my back; his hand slips between my legs to find me wet. “You must have been having some interesting dreams.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s just being near you that doesit.”
“I know what effect being near you has on me, so that’s entirely possible.” He pushes inside me, and when I’m full he kisses me until I arch against him. Then he moves, but he keeps the pace slow, almost gentle.
When my eyes close, he says, “Look at me, Jade.” So I watch him as we circle up, higher and higher, until ecstasy seizes us both in velvet claws and we shudder together through our climax.
I stroke his hair, my throat swollen with unshed tears. He nuzzles my ear, then nips my earlobe. “That was the appetizer.”
“Is that right?”
The skin around his eyes crinkles when he smiles. “You hungry?”
“Mmm. I could … eat.”
“Can’t say no to that,” he says, his smile turning wicked, and he scoops me up and carries me to the shower.
* * *
Downstairs,I take over the kitchen. We’re cleaning up after eating a frittata when the doorbell rings. “Are you expecting someone?” I ask Romero. I hate that something as innocuous as visitors makes me tense upnow.
“I’ll go see.” He gives my hand a squeeze and goes down the hall toward the front of the house. I hesitate, then curse myself for my cowardice and followhim.
There’s a new panel by the front door with a screen. Carlo’s guys must have come in while we were asleep and done part of the installation. Romero checks to see who it is, then opens the door and standsback.
“Where do you want it?” says one of the six burly men rolling my piano inside. I stare, wordless, unable to believe it’shere.
“Follow me,” Romero says, and leads them to the back. The family room wraps around the corner along the side of the house, and he’s rearranged some of the furniture to make space along an interior wall. The piano fits perfectly, and in no time the men are gone again.
