Kidnapping His Bride

by Karen Erickson

  “Absolutely.”

  “Have you seen my cell phone? I can’t find it.” She’d searched for it the moment she woke up, but it was nowhere to be found. Could she have left it at the store somehow?

  His lips tightened. “I know where it is. I have it.”

  Cat frowned. “You do? Why?”

  “You left it in the living room, and while you were sleeping it kept ringing.” He blew out a harsh breath and glared at her, clearly angry. But for whatever reason, she knew his anger wasn’t directed at her. “It was your sister. After about the tenth call in less than ten minutes, I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I answered your phone and told her to stop harassing you.”

  Oh no. “You spoke to her?” Her mouth fell open in disbelief and she slowly shook her head, snapping her lips shut when she figured she must look ridiculous. “Um, what did she say? Was she angry?”

  “I really don’t give a shit if she was angry. She made me angry with her constant calling and text messaging.” His expression turned sheepish, which she bet was an unusual look for him. “I might’ve read a few.”

  She closed her eyes. How mortifying, that he got put in the middle of her argument with her sister. “I’m sorry if she yelled at you.”

  “Christ, Cat, there’s nothing for you to apologize for. I’m the one who should be sorry. I interfered in your personal life, invaded your privacy by reading your texts and yelling at your sister.” He shook his head. “But I couldn’t just let her bombard you with endless calls and texts. They were downright abusive. And I told her that.”

  Oh, God. Annalisa was probably furious. “How did she take you telling her she’s abusive?” She could only imagine. An endless stream of screaming denials, she was sure.

  “Not very well.”

  That was most likely a complete understatement. Her sister had always tried to run her life and especially in the last few years, it had become worse. Once their father had become a ghost, Annalisa had taken it upon herself that she needed to take over both Cat’s and their mother’s lives. Cat hadn’t protested too hard since she knew her sister seemed to need the control to keep her head steady.

  Rafe was starting to help her realize that she needed to live her own life. On her own terms. Instead of having her sister tell her what to do or always wanting to be careful in case she upset her mother. She was sick of it.

  Sick. Of. It.

  “You’re right. I should be angry with you for invading my privacy.” He cast a sharp glance at her, and she smiled faintly. “But I’m thanking you instead. For telling Annalisa to back off. I’ve never had the guts to do that before.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sorry I read your texts and answered her call. I just…I didn’t want you to wake up to an endless amount of angry voicemails from your sister.” He grimaced. “She was furious when I demanded she back off. Told me to mind my own business.”

  Her heart softened. He was protecting her. No one protected her. Oh, Annalisa believed in her slightly twisted brain that everything she did and said to Cat was to help her, but really? She was starting to see that her sister did more harm than good.

  “I appreciate you defending me,” she murmured.

  “No one should have to take that sort of treatment, Cat, not even from a loved one. No one.” He shook his head, his voice firm.

  “I know. You’re right.” But how could she make her sister stop? She didn’t know. Didn’t think she had the strength to actually stand up to Annalisa and tell her to back off.

  What sort of wimp did that make her?

  “If you’re still too tired, we could always go out tomorrow night,” he suggested, his voice quiet. “It’s getting late and you probably want to take a shower before we go, right?”

  She shook herself from her thoughts. “No, I think this is exactly what I need tonight. It’ll be the perfect distraction, going out. Having a few drinks, dancing.” Pausing, she studied him. “Do you dance, Rafe?”

  His lips twitched. “Not very well.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment crashed through her. She’d hoped he would dance with her. Maybe even to a slow song. She wanted to know what it felt like, having those strong arms around her while the swayed together…

  “That doesn’t mean I won’t make an attempt, if that’s what you want.” Reaching out, he grabbed hold of her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I might embarrass you, though. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “I doubt you’ll embarrass me. How could you?” Warmth suffused her. He was being so kind. Watching out for her, defending her against Annalisa, willingly taking her wherever she wanted to go in the city. Indulging her by wanting to dance when he probably wasn’t comfortable doing so.

  Her opinion of Rafael Renaldi was starting to change, slowly but surely. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all.

  Chapter Seven

  Rafe took her to one of the most popular nightclubs in all of Manhattan. He rarely frequented it—hanging out in noisy, crowded clubs wasn’t his style—but he had a feeling Crimson was the type of place Cat was looking for.

  She wanted to lose herself for a little while and he could understand that. Her family obligations had to be taking a toll. What with that bitch-from-hell older sister, life couldn’t be easy.

  He’d never heard such poisonous venom from a woman before. Annalisa Campioni’s tone of voice alone had sent a slither of dread down his spine when she started in on him. Not that he was scared of her. Angry females he could deal with—he’d handled his mother and sister rather effectively since he could remember. After all, he was the easygoing one, the charming one of the three Renaldi brothers. Matteo was quiet and calm and levelheaded. Vincenzo was young and brash and impulsive.

  But there had been no reasoning on his end with Annalisa. The woman had spoken of her sister as if she was worthless. Useless. Her insults had shocked the hell out of him. Yes, his siblings drove him crazy sometimes, but he would never, ever verbally tear them apart to a person he barely knew.

  So he believed Cat deserved a momentary escape. And he wanted to be the one to provide it for her. It was the least he could do.

  She sat beside him in the car he arranged for this evening, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement. The sequined dress fit her curves beautifully, showing off those long legs he was sorely tempted to touch. The shoes filled his dirty brain with images of her sprawled across his bed, wearing nothing else but those damn fuck-me shoes.

  Swiping his hand along his jaw, he studied her out of the corner of his eye, reminding himself he needed to rein his thoughts in tonight. She would most likely drive him out of his mind with lust moving that pretty little body of hers to the music but she was jumpy. Hell, she’d dumped him not even forty-eight hours ago.

  And now he wanted to never let her out of his sight again.

  “We’re here,” Cat announced when the car came to a stop in front of the club. She reminded him of an eager child, her face practically pressed to the window as she stared out at the line formed along the side of the building. Though there was nothing remotely child-like about Cat. “It looks busy.”

  “Don’t worry,” he reassured when she turned to look at him. “We’ll get right in.”

  “It’s almost eleven-thirty and look at the line.” She pointed. “I can’t even tell where it ends.”

  “The club’s open ’til four a.m.” The nightlife never ended in Manhattan. “And trust me. I know a way in.”

  The driver opened the door for them and Rafe followed Cat out of the car, standing tall so he could survey the scene before him. Immediately he noted the various men standing in line. How most of them blatantly stared at Cat, not that he could blame them.

  The sequined scrap of a dress accentuated her sensuous figure, her long, dark brown hair hung in sexy waves beyond her shoulders and when she turned to look at him, offering a shy smile in his direction, his heart nearly tripped over itself.

  Standing beside her, he slipped his arm around he
r slender shoulders and drew her in close, staking his claim. She’s mine. Don’t waste your time because she belongs to me.

  The majority of them looked away, losing interest.

  Good.

  “Maybe we should go somewhere else,” she suggested, her worried gaze scanning the line of disgruntled wannabe club goers. “Is there another club nearby?”

  “I can get us in. Just follow my lead,” he murmured close to her ear, the scent of her hair driving him wild. “And don’t say a word. Let me do all the talking. I have everything under control.”

  She gave a subtle nod as he led her toward the two gentlemen who stood in front of the closed door, casting their disapproving gazes upon everyone nearby. A red velvet rope swung across the imposing, black-lacquered double doors, blocking everyone from coming inside unless they were specifically admitted. Rafe could hear the muttered protests when he approached the door hosts, knew that everyone most likely thought he was cutting in line.

  Which he was. But he had connections. He knew the owner through his sister. Renaldi Accessories had held a jewelry line launch at the location a little over three months ago. Not that he would reveal that little tidbit of information to Cat yet.

  For whatever stupid reason, he wanted to impress her tonight. Wanted her to think he could pull strings, make things happen, make things fun for her. That he would do anything to ensure she had a good time.

  Absolutely juvenile of him, but when it came to Cat, she made him act a little crazy.

  “Evening,” he said to the two very muscular, very stylishly dressed men standing in front of the door. Their expressions were made of pure disinterest, their thick arms crossed in front of their chests, their matching smirks almost disconcerting in how similar they appeared.

  Rafe couldn’t help but wonder if they were brothers—or linebackers.

  “Line’s back there,” one of them said, flicking his chin. “I suggest you get in it and wait your turn like everyone else.”

  Cat glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening. The line wound around the building. He heard it was like this every night. Stasia had told him more than once that Crimson was the hot spot to see and be seen.

  Considering he’d come to New York to do nothing but work, he’d had to trust her on that knowledge, despite his playboy, man-about-town image. It was all just that for the most part—an image. One he’d cultivated gladly since it got him and the business plenty of press. He helped divert the media from questioning Stasia and her rather scandalous past too.

  So he’d never discouraged the dating-a-bazillion-women-at-once image he had. Never thinking it could hurt his future marriage, which proved he was an idiot for never considering Cat’s feelings.

  He was so stupid. It hurt him to know he hurt her. How he hated that.

  But truly, there had only been one woman for him. Despite earlier dalliances, the occasional date with a beautiful woman, he knew Catalina was for him and no other.

  Then she went and dumped him. Luckily enough, she dumped him and then promptly gave him a second chance at convincing her they could make this work.

  Over the next few days, that was his plan. Convincing her they could work.

  This night, this very moment, was the first of many steps.

  Pushing his thoughts out of Cat out of his head, Rafe focused on the skeptical men in front of him. “I’m a friend of Terry’s,” he said, hoping like hell his name appeared on that magical list he’d heard Stasia refer to. She’d told him the night of the jewelry line reveal that all Renaldis had been put on the permanent entrance list. He hadn’t cared then.

  He sure as hell cared now.

  “Yeah, right,” the other doorman said with a snort. “You and everyone else is his friend. Stop wasting your breath, bro. Get in the back of the line.” He jerked his thumb toward the restless crowd.

  “My name is Rafe Renaldi.” He tilted his head toward the clipboard the guy held. “Check your list.”

  Growling irritably, the man flipped through the papers on his clipboard, running his finger down the list of names until it stopped…and he looked up at Rafe once more, his expression contrite. “You’re on the list.”

  “I know,” Rafe said calmly, all the while feeling Cat staring at him.

  “Guess we’ll let you in, then,” the man said almost reluctantly.

  “Guess you will.” Letting his arm drop from Cat’s shoulders, he took her hand, entwining their fingers as he glanced at her pretty face. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

  The little smile curving her lips was unmistakable. He had a feeling she’d enjoyed that display of power. And he’d done it all for her.

  The silent door host unhooked the red velvet rope and let them enter, offering a reluctant, “Have a good night,” punctuated with a low grunt.

  “We will,” Cat said brightly, shining her smile upon the man before she turned it on Rafe.

  Wrecking his heart completely in the most delicious way.

  Cat had believed for sure that Rafe wouldn’t be able to get them into the nightclub. She should’ve never doubted him because he’d gone and proven her wrong, what with his name on the entrance list. The two grumpy doormen had no choice but to let them enter, and she’d felt special as she’d eagerly walked through those black-lacquered doors, Rafe clutching her hand tightly as they strode inside.

  The place was packed, multicolored strobe lights flashing in time with the beat of the music, the dance floor crowded with an interesting mix of people. Young, old, not one of them sloppily dressed. A DJ stood behind a table on a platform on the opposite side of the room, spinning his beats and clutching his headphones to his ear.

  She’d seen things like this on television or in magazine photos, but never in her life had she experienced it firsthand.

  “Want a drink?” Rafe yelled in her ear.

  “Sure,” she yelled back. She could hardly hear herself, what with how loud the music was.

  He led her to a bar that took up the entire left side of the room. Mirrors lined the wall, a variety of liquor bottles sat on shelves in front of the mirrors and three gorgeous men worked behind the counter. The one closest to where they stood flashed her a breathtaking smile, and she couldn’t help but return it.

  Earning a glare from Rafe in her direction for her efforts.

  “What can I get ya, pretty lady?” the bartender asked with a wink.

  Rafe practically growled his answer, ordering for her some sort of complicated drink she’d never heard of before and a beer for him.

  “You drink beer?” she asked the moment the bartender turned away from them.

  “I do.” Rafe frowned at her. “You act surprised.”

  “I figured you were more the type who drank scotch, neat.” She shrugged and he smiled, grasping her hand once more and pulling her in so close, her body molded to his.

  “You think you had me all figured out, didn’t you?” His mouth was at her ear yet again and she shivered when his lips brushed her sensitive flesh. He took advantage of the loud music by doing this sort of thing every chance he got. She didn’t know if she’d be able to stand it the rest of the night, it felt so good. So deliciously intimate. “When really you know nothing about me.”

  “You know nothing about me either,” she returned, her gaze meeting his when he tilted his head down to study her. They stared at each other for a moment, quiet and still, as if frozen in time while life carried on around them. The song changed, this one even louder, generating an excited roar from the crowd moving on the dance floor. The lights stilled, casting a red glow across Rafe’s handsome features, and she realized in that very second that she wanted to know more about him.

  Wanted to learn everything about him. Forget the past, the confusion and her mistaken assumptions. She’d pegged him as one type of man—the sort of man her father was, when really, she hadn’t a clue who Rafael Renaldi was.

  She judged him based on her own—and her sister’s—assumptions and that was completely unfair.<
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  “I want to learn,” he murmured and somehow, she heard him. Understood him. Her heart fluttered at the look in his eyes, the way he studied her face. “I want to know everything about you, Cat. Will you let me in?”

  His gaze, his words seemed so sincere. She wanted to let him in, but fear held her voice captive. Licking her lips, she parted them, ready to speak, ready to offer him a tentative answer.

  “Here’re your drinks.” The bartender’s sharp voice broke the spell and she jolted away from Rafe, felt the loss keenly when he let go of her hand to reach for his wallet.

  He paid for their drinks and she took the glass he offered, sipping from it carefully, pleasantly surprised at the delicious taste. “It’s good,” she said when he sent her a questioning look.

  “I wouldn’t steer you wrong,” he said, drinking from his beer bottle, and she wondered if there was double meaning in his words.

  Their intimate conversation forgotten, they drank silently, Cat taking everything in. The majority of the people crowded around them were young, in their twenties. All of them gleaming and polished, laughing and smiling at each other as if they were having the time of their lives.

  It looked almost…exhausting. She wondered if many of them came here often. Perhaps every weekend, looking for whatever they were missing in their lives.

  Cat could relate. She’d felt like a piece of her was missing for years.

  Maybe that piece was standing next to her, quietly drinking his beer while he kept his gaze on her.

  “You’re staring at me,” she finally said when she turned to look at him.

  He shrugged those impossibly broad shoulders, which were encased in a midnight blue button-down shirt. “I like watching you watch everyone else. I’ve heard the term ‘wide-eyed wonder’ before, but never believed it existed. Until now.”

  Her cheeks heated. He must think her a naïve fool. “I’m sure my wide-eyed wonder is amusing to your jaded, worldly ways.”

  Rafe laughed, reaching out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re assuming I’m something that I’m not again.”