The Salvation of Vengeance (Wanted Men #2) (32 page)

“Red?”

“Hmm?” She looked down at her screen saver. A picture of her and Caleb that she’d taken the other day in Union Square.

“Why are you not bothered by the things he says to you? How can you just accept them like this?”

She looked up at him. “I don’t accept them, Vincente,” she told him truthfully. “I don’t hear them anymore. Kevin can say whatever he wants to me—it really doesn’t register.”

With a sad shake of his head, he gathered her into his arms, one hand across her back, the other on the back of her head. “I wish I could make you unhear that shit anyway,” he said quietly. “You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that. Nobody does.”

Nika wrapped her arms around his back and accepted the comfort she craved. She was so damn grateful it was Vincente who was giving it, despite still wondering at his now-I-like-you-now-I-don’t attitude, but she wouldn’t push it. She knew just as well as anyone how easy it was to second-guess herself when making a decision. She was doing the same thing with him, for God’s sake. One minute she wanted to be with him; the next she knew it was the absolute wrong thing to do. Yet she still so badly wanted what she shouldn’t have. But wasn’t that the way with things? Just ask any addict.

She laid her head on his shoulder and inhaled his scent, her eyes drawn to the window. A large bird soared in a sweeping circle in the cloudless sky. It dove down, disappearing for a moment behind a copse of trees. Probably getting sustenance in the form of a field mouse. She blinked in the warmth surrounding her when it came into view again, circling as it went higher. Round and round it went, almost as if it had caught wind and was now only coasting, enjoying itself too much to stop and do what it knew it must. Survive.

With a small sigh, she tightened her hold for a second to savor the feel of Vincente’s body against hers and then drew back. “Thank you. I really needed that,” she said sincerely. She knew she shouldn’t get used to receiving it from him. She pulled her arms away, her fingers lingering on the supple skin of his ribs before she turned away and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find Eva.”

Her words barely carried as she walked out.

“You need to get dressed, Red.”

She kept going, padding down the hall in nothing but his oversize T-shirt.

He let her go and she found Eva and Charlie in Eva’s bedroom. They didn’t talk much, just sat with each other. Nika did tell her about Kevin’s phone call but moved on quickly to gush over her new puppy again. Their visit ended when Gabriel came in. Nika had already heard Vincente pass by in the hallway so she knew it was safe to return to his room. Before she left her friend, Eva told her the best thing she could do was stay in the moment and try to let things work themselves out as they always seemed to do.

That was good advice, especially coming from someone who was living it. Eva’s life had fallen into place beautifully, Nika thought as she entered the living room a little while later. She’d gone back to Vincente’s room to shower and dress in a pair of black shorts, a gray V-neck tee, and sandals. She played with the metal feather hanging from the long chain around her neck, feeling nervous when four heads turned to where she’d stalled in the entrance. Charlie, as was becoming the norm, hopped around her ankles as she avoided looking anywhere near the darkest form in the group.

A round of hellos preceded Maksim coming forward with a grin aimed at her pet. “Hey, kid.” He squatted and put his hand out before looking up at her. “What are we calling him?”

“Charlie.”

The pup went down on his belly and shimmied forward until Maksim’s fingers were running down his back. His touch was gentle, his tone soft, as he spoke to the dog in what Nika presumed was Russian.

God, she so wanted to look up and to the left. Wanted to—

“I was just going to take him outside,” she blurted to Maksim. She had to get out of there before she, again, allowed her feelings for Vincente to be witnessed by everyone. “Are you busy? Maybe you can come with? I’d like a photo of him playing in the grass. Screen saver.” She waved the phone that she had clutched in her hand and hoped she didn’t sound as high-strung as she suddenly felt.

Maksim reached out and plucked her iPhone from her fingers with a distasteful look. “These things are dangerous. Carry way too much information. I’ll tighten it up for you. Make it more secure. Don’t argue with me, sweetness,” he added firmly when she opened her mouth to tell him he didn’t have to do that. The steady look he aimed up at her swiftly sealed her lips once more, and she wasn’t even sure why. He lifted Charlie with a hand under his belly and rose to his full towering height, his eyes holding hers. He nodded as if satisfied. “Very nice,” he murmured with a sidelong look at the others. “You should be taking notes. It’s all in the tone, and eye contact is very important.”

Her brows snapped down. What the hell did
that
mean? And who had he said it to?

“Would it have much of a ripple effect if I killed him?”

Her jaw dropped, and her gaze flew to the asker of the casual question.

Vincente’s casually asked question.

Nika realized immediately that she should. Not. Have. Looked.

He was wearing his usual biker boots, worn jeans, and weathered brown belt. But over his black T-shirt was a casual polar-white shirt. The top two buttons were undone, and that wolf’s tooth he always wore hung from his neck. The sleeves were rolled to the elbow to show off his inked forearms, his chunky watch encircled his left wrist, and his hair—for the first time ever—was pulled back into a ponytail, showcasing his face in such a way she wasn’t sure she could stand it. He looked as if he’d attempted to clean up, and the effect was devastating, the complete and total destruction of any resolve Nika might have had to stay away from him.

Gabriel’s deep voice had her blinking and sucking in some air when she realized she wasn’t breathing anymore.

“His Russian fan club would come down hard on our asses. Vasily would be pissed. Hurt, even. But that might only be because we didn’t include him in the festivities.”

“He’d get over it, though, right?” Vincente asked, his focus on the tab of the Red Bull can he was twisting off.

“I suppose.” Gabriel appeared thoughtful for a moment. “But then we’d have to break in a new IT guy. Can you even imagine that bullshit?”

“The twins are pretty talented.”

Gabriel snorted. “Yeah. But not
that
talented.”

Vincente’s mouth twisted, and then he gave an oh-all-right nod, seemingly convinced that taking his friend’s life would be more trouble than it was worth.

Nika tore her eyes away and looked at Maksim to see how he was handling the very odd discussion of his possible demise and wasn’t really surprised to be met with a grin. “See?” He winked. “This is what indispensable looks like.”

She laughed and wondered if Vincente would be uncomfortable with her approaching him in front of his friends. She could see him in her periphery. He was looking anywhere but at her. Maybe she shouldn’t approach him. At all. Especially since she still didn’t know why his attitude toward her had cooled.

Gabriel snagged Eva’s hand and brought her to the couch, but before he could pull her down, she was shaking her dark head. “Uh-uh. We have work to do,” she said firmly. “If Vincente is traveling into Manhattan to go to his office, the least we can do is walk down the hallway to ours.”

That explained the change to his appearance, which Nika was pretty sure had been Eva’s intent. The darling.

“I’ve created a monster,” Gabriel grumbled. “Is it too much to ask to enjoy an hour of downtime with my wife?”

“We can enjoy some hours after. It’s almost time for my forced nap anyway,” Eva said wryly.

She’d told Nika earlier that Gabriel had been insisting on a rest in the early afternoons. She’d been going along with it to make him happy, and because she said she
was
a little more tired than usual and felt in actual need of the short sleep. Then she’d blushed like a girl, and Nika was convinced not much sleep was had during those naps.

Gabriel motioned his wife out of the room, but Eva turned to Nika. “Why don’t you come with and we can prep for your interview?”

It was all Nika could do not to visibly wilt, but knowing it was for the best, she nodded. “Okay. Charlie just needs to pee, and I’ll be there.”

“I’ll keep you company,” Maksim said, holding out his free hand. “Let’s go take care of the kid.”

Wishing it was Vincente’s, but forcing herself not to even look at him, she took the tattooed appendage and was led out the French doors and around the pool to the large emerald stretch of grass. Far, far away from temptation.

But not far enough.

CHAPTER 20

Vincente was fucking
wired
. Strung the fuck out.

He plowed through the kitchen, changing his mind on food the minute he spotted the tray of sandwiches Samnang always left for them. He rattled the whole house banging his way out the French doors leading to the calm waters of the lit-up pool. Cracked his neck a couple of times. Sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. Nothing helped.

He’d spent a few hours at ROM Construct after leaving earlier and had found everything running as smoothly as he could hope for, thanks to his cousin Mario and Mario’s very pregnant wife, Cindy. Vincente had stayed as long as he could, until Fan Boy’s happily created collage of his redhead with a beautifully swollen belly made him snappy. He’d mumbled an apology to his staff and fucked off. Had to remember to send them a muffin basket or some shit.

He’d then hit up Caleb and the two of them had combed through Crown Heights, checking out the warehouse and Darren’s apartment, before adding Vex and a half-dozen others—ODMC and Moretti crew combined—to the search party. Even with the increase in numbers, they’d come up empty. Again.

Now Vincente was freaking out, morals nowhere to be found. His skin felt as if it were two sizes too small for his body. His head as if it were about to pop off his shoulders. And there was something happening in his chest that was becoming harder and harder to breathe around.

“Wound a little tight there, my brother?”

Even though it was goddamned Maksim’s voice, he still spun around ready to kick in some teeth. He didn’t. Even though he was so fucking tempted.

He was pissed about the “taking care of the kid” bullshit, despite knowing Maks would never stab him in the back by coming on to a woman Vincente was interested in. Especially Nika.

Feeling as if he were burning in his skin, Vincente took another meaningless suck of air. He relaxed his stance as he blew the useless shit out between him and his friend. “What the fuck are you doing out here?”

“Enjoying the quiet. Was a busy night. Vasily finally moved on the Columbians shoveling their shit into Brighton.”

He nodded, curious to hear about it. But not now.

“What are you doing, V? Still putting off the inevitable.”

Asshole.
“Blow me, Maks. I’m not in the mood.” He looked out over the pool and heard the guy haul himself up from the lounger. “We went through Crown Heights tonight. Astoria, too. Didn’t find shit.”

“Maybe it’s a sign. She’s been pacing all fucking night. Every camera I looked through, there she was, wound as tight as you are. You should go up to her.”

On that happy note, Maks left him alone with his tangled thoughts.

He looked up at the stars, stomach rolling as if he were on a sinking boat, and knew what he was about to do. How could he be so selfish?

He still had no answer to that question when he stood outside his bedroom door, knees weak, pulse pounding, gut spinning, breath coming in short bursts. He reached out and turned the knob, then slipped in and closed the door quietly behind him.

Which wasn’t necessary because Nika wasn’t asleep.

She unfolded her long body from her perch on the seat in front of the big bay window and was all feline grace even though hesitancy was clear in her walk to the bed. She turned her back on him to pull the chain on the lamp—

Fuuuck.

The room tilted at an odd angle when the swath of light showed her wearing nothing but a white tank with the words
Hug Me
—he would, in a minute—emblazoned across the chest and tiny black underwear. Her hair was tousled and wild, her eyes droopy and tired.

Vincente stepped farther into the room, his temperature rocketing up a few thousand degrees when her scent slammed into him.

“What do you want from me?” His voice was like gravel, and he hoped it didn’t frighten her.

Her eyes flared ever so slightly but with a banked heat that was so sexy he was sure he imagined it. “What do you mean?”

“What. Do. You. Want.”

Her thumbs and forefingers were suddenly fluttering against each other like a hummingbird’s wings. Her eyes darted past him to the door. “Um, I’m not sure I should tell you.” She cringed, and he knew he was going to have to put himself out there first. If she shot him down, so be it.

“I lied.” There was a beat of surprised silence. “About wanting you,” he specified so there would be no misunderstandings.

Everything about her froze for a split second, she even stopped breathing, and then she was bustling about, grabbing that silky blue robe of hers and yanking it on—he’d had Vito bring her things over that morning. She jerkily walked back and straightened the side of the bed she’d disturbed, running her hand over the sheet and then the comforter until not a wrinkle remained. All the while, she jabbered.

“I don’t think now is the time to discuss something like this. You’re tired from doing whatever it was you did all night. I’m tired from worrying the night away with Eva and Quan. He was great company. So calm and steady. We played cards. I think he let us win.”

“I lied,” he said again, gently. “Will you let me tell you how I see you, Red? How I really see you?”

She looked so much like she wanted to say no, her eyes zipping to the door again, but she nodded her head once, almost imperceptibly.

“You’re like the most brilliant sunshine on an autumn day. Like a warm breeze on a deserted beach in the fall. You’re a small slice of heaven . . . I shouldn’t soil you with the blood on my hands. But I can’t fight this anymore,” he finished hoarsely, letting her read the truth in his eyes.

She took her time, and when she spoke, her voice was low and careful. “So, you hurt me by telling me I wasn’t enough for you . . . for nothing? Why?”

How much was he going to tell her? All of it? A portion? Maybe he should tell her the whole shit story and have her kick him out on his ass.

He ran a hand over the back of his neck in an effort to loosen the muscles there. “I’m so fucking sorry, Red. Last night, you asked me what I do exactly and I shut you down. Well, when Gabriel left the family five years ago, I struggled with my role in it. I didn’t know where I fit and needed something more, so I purchased a falling-down-drunk construction company. I built it back up while I hung out with Stefano. It’s now turning a good profit thanks in part to my cousin and his wife. That’s where I went this afternoon. It keeps Mario out of trouble, and out of this
other
world, which I know he wouldn’t have handled well. Too much easy access to every excess there is; money, drugs, women.” He took an inconspicuous breath. “ROM Construct also affords me a legitimate excuse for my . . . wealth.” He felt like a fucking poseur talking about shit like this. “The majority of which I don’t add to any numbered line on my IRS forms. You get what I’m saying? Me and the boys make a shit ton of money, but it’s not respectable gains. It’s from gambling, laundering, forgeries; we have a healthy arms shop.” He shrugged. “Maybe because of your brother that stuff doesn’t faze you, but it should.”

She was sitting there, nodding every so often, and her absolute acceptance of what he was telling her pissed him off.

“Does that not turn you off at all?” he asked incredulously and swung away. “In a given day, I threaten, bully, kick ass—sometimes until an ambulance is necessary. At times not even a medic can help the guys I beat down. Do you get what I’m telling you, Red?” He couldn’t look at her. Fear should be shining from those emerald eyes of her. What if it wasn’t? “That’s why I shoved at you. I figured if I hurt you, you’d move on to someone better—”

He shut up when she appeared next to him, no fucking fear in her expression whatsoever.

“Why are you telling me this, Vincente?”

Holy fuck, could the warmth pouring through him that she seemed to be accepting him for exactly who and what he was be any more incredible? He didn’t think so.

“I, uh, want you to know exactly who I am.” Suddenly needing to be busy, he rolled his shoulders and let his duster fall, then threw it over the chair next to his dresser. Next, he took his SIG out of its holster and dropped it—after making sure the safety was still on—next to a Tag Heuer he hadn’t worn in a while. “If this goes as planned, you, uh, need to know me. You need to know what you’ll be getting.” He bent to unstrap his ankle holsters, removed them, and placed his other gun and blade beside the SIG.

She tossed her hair behind her shoulder. “Would you like to let me in on this plan of yours?”

He finally looked at her and practically heard the hiss of pressure leave his muscles when he took in the shy pleasure lighting her perfect features.
Holy shit.
She was going to accept him. He could see it in her expression.

He went to her and gently slid an arm around her waist to lift her off her feet and bury his face in the crook of her neck.

Her arms coming around his shoulders, her long fingers delving into his hair, substantiated her acquiescence, and Vincente closed his eyes and felt the ice that had been around his heart for so many years start to drip.

“I want to do more than kiss you, babe,” he warned her as he did just that to her fragrant skin. “I want to touch you everywhere. So fucking badly. How do you feel about that? Does it scare you? Excite you?”

She drew back and met his gaze. “Will we have sex?”

He almost whimpered. “If you want to.”

“And it will just be sex? Between two consenting adults? Nothing more?”

His goal to only ever tell her the truth was shelved. “Yes. Just sex. Nothing more. Work out whatever the hell this is between us.”

Something flashed across her face too quickly for him to identify before she nodded. “That’s good, because I, uh, am not scared by what you said, and I really want to have sex with you.” His body jerked when her mouth landed, open and warm, teeth and tongue drawing a gentle wet line from his ear down the cord in his neck, gently biting right at his pulse point. Sensation exploded down the side of his body, letting him know exactly what a mild stroke would feel like as part of his brain shut down, his knees going rubbery. She drew back and traced a soft fingertip over his lips, looking as if there was something else on her mind.

He was curious. “Tell me what you’re thinking, babe.”

Her eyes flipped to his, a gorgeous flush traveling up her neck. Sex. She was thinking about the sex. “I’m tired of thinking,” she murmured, putting her nose to his cheek to nuzzle him so sweetly. “Let’s just do this. Okay? At least this once.”

Before he could respond, she tilted her head and her parted lips covered his, her taste exploding in his mouth. At the feel of her stroking tongue, so gentle and tentative, Vincente felt his arms begin to tighten, holding her in place.

“At least this once, babe, I’m all yours. And you”—he slid his hands from her outer thighs to cup her ass and bring her in even closer—“are mine.”

At least this once.

Nika would take it. She was going to take this and use the shit out of it. Take this one time with Vincente and hold it dear.

She broke the kiss. “You’re sure about this? You’re not going to change your mind halfway through?” She didn’t wait for his answer before she slipped her robe down her arms and tossed it behind her to flutter to the floor at the foot of the bed.

His lips curved, lifting one side of his damned sexy goatee. “Not even if the house goes up in flames,” he promised. “I’m done waiting. Have wanted this for too long. That day on the couch at the apartment. And the night before, when you were stitching me up. Last night, when I gave you Charlie. That first day in Seattle even. Fuuuck. I tried to be good about it, but it didn’t matter. Every damn time, all the fucking time, I’ve wanted to strip you so I could touch you, lick you, have you all over—”

All that hard muscle surrounding her grew even harder as Vincente stiffened, seeming to come his senses. An adorable—who’d have ever thought she’d use that word with this man—flush hit his cheeks. “Oh, fuck, Red, I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so fucking ignora—”

Never more appreciative of a runaway tongue, she cut his unnecessary apology off by devouring his honest, no-holds-barred mouth. He felt what she felt. Exactly. And nothing had ever made her happier than knowing her attraction was returned.

“The bed, Vincente,” she gasped when he squeezed her ass cheeks. “Go to the bed. Please.”

Before she knew it, he was tumbling her down onto the thick comforter, covering her with his heavy body. After waiting for what seemed like forever, knowing this was finally happening had her body going molten. She didn’t care anymore that she was damaged goods, didn’t care that he’d hurt her, didn’t care that Kevin was after her. Her need was too desperate to allow her to care about anything but what was happening between them right then.

His fingers slipped under the hem of her tank to skim along the sensitive skin of her stomach, causing her breathing to speed up even more. Needing to feel more of him, she grasped the hem of his T-shirt and drew it up to pull over his head, hesitating because she needed him to lift up a little. As if reading her mind, he pulled back and did the rest. She nearly moaned at the sight of a black leather harness strapped across the bronzed skin of his chest and ribs. He’d removed the weapons earlier. Heat roared through her at the sight of the ropy muscles of his tight abdomen. She grabbed his wrists when he went for the clasp on the harness. “Leave it,” she whispered, her gaze unashamedly devouring him. “God, you’re so . . . sexy.”