Katie broke eye contact first to roll her head to the side and glance around the room. She raised an eyebrow in surprise. This place was not Roman’s usual style. He lived in the dark and the shadows. She'd never been invited to his place before, but she followed him once. About five years ago. A sort of curious kitty, revenge thing, for the amount of times she knew he’d stalked her in the shadows, frightening her without saying a word. Just that one time she’d invaded his privacy without his knowing. Because she was good at breaking into places uninvited.
He lived in an abandoned warehouse. Not a scummy place, filled with rats or anything like that. No, he just really liked his privacy. She’d waited until he left and climbed up the fire escape, then slipped down the elevator shaft and into his giant warehouse. It was heartbreakingly empty. He only occupied a small section of it. Very much a bachelor. She was pretty sure he owned the whole building and just chose to live alone there in that small, lonely section. In one of the worst areas of the city with a huge gang problem. His old stomping grounds. Not that it would have mattered. No one would fuck with Roman Valdez or his property. That would be asking for instant death.
She had stared in wide-eyed surprise at his empty existence and wondered what drove the big, dark man. Then she wondered what drove her to finally seek answers from him. Why had she come? She couldn’t have him. He was too frightening. Too much for her. She was too fragile on a good day. On a bad day? She was a kaleidoscope of crazy, out of control, ready to fly off the planet on the wings of depression. Roman was not for her.
She might have stayed in his space all day, or until she heard the clatter of the old elevator labouring its way up. She might have laid on his bed and taken his scent deep into her lungs and stored the fantasies away for later. But she found the books beside his bed. Worn from his big hands flipping repeatedly through the pages. Some of the pages were dog-eared. With shaking hands, she picked one up. It opened automatically, as though it had been opened so many times the page was cracked from use. Her eyes widened as she realized the significance of the books littering his bedside.
Each book was an exact copy of her university text books. The ones that were worn and marked from his hands were art history books with the paintings she liked best. Katie’s eyes lovingly traced the lines of her absolute favourite painting, Picasso’s Woman with Folded Arms. How could Roman possibly know? Katie never told anyone about her affinity with Picasso’s Blue Period. God, why would she? They would think she was crazy. Instead, she buried it like she buried everything else. But somehow her shadowy stalker knew about the depression that hugged her close and never let her truly surface.
She had dropped the book and backed away, unable to handle the meaning of her discovery. It was one thing to believe Roman wanted her for her body. She was tall, thin, blond. Sure, she could see the appeal. She even used her sex appeal to her advantage when she had to. She sold her soul years ago, it didn’t really matter anymore. But this. This was something different. It was like the man saw into the heart of her and loved her for herself.
But that was impossible. Because there was nothing to love. She was a shell. A thing to be used for her body and her skills. Not a person to be loved. Roman deserved so much more than Katie. Roman had avenged Dexter. He was the angel of death. He was perfect. He didn’t want the head case mess that was Katie Pullman.
Yet, now, he was looking at her like he wanted to devour every inch of her. And she was starting to suspect that he had kidnapped her and brought her to some kind of fancy hotel or something. Which he would have done just for her, because she knew he wasn’t into this sort of thing. There was a chandelier over the bed and a gorgeous ensuite peeking around the corner for goodness sake. No, just nope. She was putting a stop to whatever this was. Roman had finally gone too far. She moistened her lips, forced herself to roll away from his thigh and push herself up onto her hands and knees.
She swayed precariously and nearly collapsed back onto the very soft, very inviting bed. She frowned in confusion as the entire room swayed around her. Was that the effects of the drug or… wait… was that a porthole?
“Easy, baby,” Roman said again, his amused eyes devouring her as she swayed on her hands and knees attempting to process what was happening to her.
She swung her face toward him and glared. “Stop saying that,” she snapped, her voice cracking. She moistened her lips again and backed slowly toward the edge of the bed, watching him warily. When he made no move to stop her, she tentatively moved one long leg over the side, careful to keep her coat draped over her thigh so she wouldn’t accidentally flash him. “I’m not your baby. Roman… are… are we on a boat?”
He straightened and pushed himself off the bed, his sharp eyes never leaving her. “It’s a yacht. Friend gave it to me.”
Her mouth fell open as she glanced around, taking in the luxury. She had some good friends. None had given her a yacht. Maybe she needed new friends. “Must be a good friend.”
He shrugged. “Thought you’d like it.”
Her sharp mind read between the lines. Yeah, he thought she might like it, but he also knew she wasn’t going anywhere fast while out on the ocean. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to escape this thing easily,” she said accusingly.
He ignored her and reached for her arm when she slid off the bed and stood up on wobbling legs. She swayed with the gentle rocking of the boat, but tried to jerk away from him when Roman wrapped long, hard fingers around her upper arm. He held her steady, refusing to let her step away from him. She knew she should be grateful. Knew she would fall without his assistance. But right now she didn’t want his touch. It was too confusing. The chemistry that sizzled between their every exchange hung thick in the air. She couldn’t forget that the strong hand holding her up was the hand that had most likely murdered her ex-husband.
She looked down the length of her body and cringed a little. She still wore the knee length double-breasted trench coat. To her relief, it was still tied tightly at the waist. She was barefoot though. A quick glance around didn’t reveal the heels anywhere. Not that she ever wanted to see those symbols of her subjugation again. But a little added height wouldn’t hurt. At 5’8”, Katie wasn’t a short woman. Roman was still eight inches taller than her and outweighed her by a good hundred and thirty or so pounds of solid muscle. Unless she got her hands on a gun, she wasn’t going to be fighting her way off the boat.
“Is there anything else for me to wear?” she asked quietly.
Roman made sure she was steady before removing his hand and walking toward a closet. Opening it, he showed her a walk-in wardrobe with blue LED lighting. It was filled with women’s clothes. Katie walked slowly toward him, careful not to actually touch the big man as she approached. She gasped in appreciation as she neared the closet. All of the clothes were gorgeous and brand label. Roman pulled out drawers filled with make-up and jewelry before stepping away to give her room to inspect her new possessions. She turned awe-filled eyes toward him. Who was this street thug turned big time criminal?
“Meet me topside when you’re dressed,” he said gruffly. “We’ll talk.”
She nodded mutely and watched her captor stride away, terribly afraid she’d been underestimating Roman all along.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Katie chose her outfit carefully. She needed something sexy in case she wanted to distract Roman, but she also didn’t want to find herself on her back any time soon, so she needed to balance the skin to cloth ratio. She settled on a bikini (it was unlikely she was close enough to land to swim, but hey, a girl could hope), layered with a sky blue wraparound skirt and a white sleeveless top.
Katie always chose her clothes carefully. She had ‘heist’ clothes and ‘playing with the ex-douche-bag’ clothes. She had ‘visiting the fam’ clothes and ‘entertaining clients’ clothes. Katie had become such a clothing chameleon that she wasn’t actually certain what her natural style was. When she hung out by herself in her apartment she tended to wear leggings
and T-shirts with funny cat memes. She’d always wanted to get a cat, but her jet-setting lifestyle wouldn’t allow for it.
Katie decided to use the gorgeously furnished ensuite while she had free run of the master suite. She washed her face and brushed her teeth with a brand-new toothbrush that she suspected was there for her. She ran her fingers over the glass surrounding a huge shower and looked around in appreciation. There were even fresh lilies in a small crystal vase on top of the vanity.
She emerged out onto the main deck, bare feet brushing against the warmth cast by the morning sun. From the look in his eyes as she approached, it probably wouldn’t have mattered what she wore. She was always going to capture and hold Roman’s attention. She had from the first moment she’d spoken to the dead-eyed gangbanger seventeen years earlier. She blushed and looked away from the heated stare he was giving her and awkwardly tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear.
He stood and took her arm, maneuvering her into the cushioned seat next to him. It was a long, padded bench overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Katie was dismayed to realize that she saw no land in any direction. She was well and truly trapped.
“Where are we?” she asked, shading her eyes and looking all around.
Roman watched the flickering emotions for a moment before saying, “You’re here with me.”
She shook her head and frowned at him pleadingly. “I can’t stay with you, Roman. I have a job. Please, you can’t keep me here, I have to be at work in a few days!”
He didn’t respond for a moment, just continued to watch her face as though she weren't begging him to let her go. When he did speak, it was on another topic entirely. “Why were you naked, Katie?”
“Wh-what?” she asked, confused at the switch in topics. Then her brain caught up and she realized what he meant. She dropped her eyes, shame suffusing her features in colour.
“You there to fuck him?” Roman snapped, his fingers biting into the edge of the cushion next to his thigh so he wouldn’t reach out and grab her. She shivered, eyes locked on his long, blunt fingers, tracing over the old gang tattoos, knowing what those hands could do to her.
She’d never been on the receiving end of Roman’s violence before, but she’d witnessed enough and heard things. She’d been fourteen when Dexter died at the hands of the Red Brotherhood. The entire family had been a wreck. Much later, she had finally been cognizant enough to catch the rumours of a brutal gang war that lasted less than a week. Of an entire gang faction taken out by a single man in bloody retribution for death of his best friend. She knew it was Roman, because he had come to her in the night, months after the killings, and promised her that she and her family were safe. He had held her tight against his body while she cried for her brother, then he’d walked away and let her grow up.
“Asked you a fucking question, Katie,” he snarled, turning dark, aggressive eyes toward her. “Answer.”
She shivered and cringed back against her seat. What could she tell him? He would know a lie if it fell from her lips. So, she nodded and flinched back when he swung his fist as though he would hit her. Instead, he brought it crashing into the seat behind her while she cowered away from him. She tried to remind herself that Roman had never hurt her before. That he had done everything to protect her.
He leaned forward, his entire body seething with rage, and said one word. “Explain.”
Katie understood that he was giving her an opportunity. She also knew that Roman was unpredictable at the best of times. A dark beast lurked within her lone wolf. The man that dedicated his life to working with a lethal mobster, hunting and killing. Stalking the shadows. Stalking Katie. He was good at the things he did. She needed to be very careful what she said to him. He brought her here, out into the ocean, for a reason. He wanted her isolated and alone so he could keep her to himself. So, she would have nowhere to run.
She leaned back against the cushions, putting precious inches between herself and the man whose entire focus was on her. She swept her long lashes down, over her eyes, concealing the expression. Licking her lips, she spoke softly, “You know about the money?”
He grunted in affirmative, but didn't speak.
She looked at him through her lashes. His broad shoulders blocked out the rising sun behind him. Was it morning already? He’d given her enough drugs to knock her out overnight. She looked him over in the light of the early morning sun, trying to calm herself enough to figure out what to tell him. He wore a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up his tanned forearms and a pair of light blue jeans that moulded to his muscular thighs. Though they were good quality, there was a hole in the knee from wear. He had old, faded tattoos from his gang days littering his arms and neck where she could see his skin. His dark brown hair was short, but not too short, as though he buzzed it with an electronic razor and it was overdue for a cut. His square jaw and sharp cheeks were covered in at least a week’s growth of beard. Somehow, she didn’t think it was on purpose. It was just Roman. He would find grooming to be an annoyance that he indulged in only when he had to.
“He started blackmailing me after the divorce,” she whispered, dropping her eyes to where his hand was clenched in the cushion next to her thigh.
“I guessed as much,” Roman gritted out. “Not what I asked.”
Katie took a breath and tried not to roll her eyes. He wasn’t going to make this easy on her. “Okay,” she said as calmly as she could, “well, he decided he also wanted sex with the monthly payments.”
“Fuck, Katie,” he snapped. “I already guessed that shit. Start telling me something I don't know. Like why you agreed to spread your legs? Thought you hated the guy. Or is that what turns you on? You into twisted shit like that?”
The breath caught in her throat and Katie clenched her fists so she wouldn’t slap him. She had to remind herself that she wasn’t violent. And that to react violently with someone like Roman would absolutely set the big guy off. That likely he was trying to bait her so he would have an excuse to put his hands on her. To treat her the way he wanted to treat her in that moment. He was at war with himself. He’d spent years putting her on a pedestal only to discover she wasn’t worthy. Well, he could join the club. She was a disappointment to everyone else, including herself.
“He found something out about me,” she said in a rush, knowing she didn't have a choice. “If I didn't give him what he wanted he would go to the FBI and get me arrested. I… I couldn't risk it. So I gave him what he wanted.”
Surprise flickered across Roman’s features before he masked them with his usual indifferent expression. “Why didn't you come to me?” he demanded.
It was a valid question. When Colin had first approached her with his ludicrous demands, Roman’s face was the first to enter her thoughts. Even then, she knew her dark protector would swoop in and save her from her own mess, she also knew she didn’t deserve saving. She deserved every second of the year’s penance she’d been made to suffer at Colin’s hands. It hadn’t been so bad. The money was nothing, a drop in the bucket. The sex had been disgusting only in that she’d had to endure his hands on her body, his breath in her face and his tiny dick working away at her for as long as he could keep it up while she fantasized about something else. Anything else. Thankfully, though a disgusting little worm of a man, her ex-husband had not been sadistic. He didn’t have the imagination.
“I couldn’t tell you, I knew you would kill him,” she whispered.
Now, looking up into the eyes of a man that truly wanted her, every part of her, a man that truly understood the meaning of the word hell, she knew she was in the power of someone that had the imagination to make her suffer if he wanted to. A shiver of both fear and anticipation slithered down her spine. She deserved whatever Roman decided to dish out to her. She wanted whatever he decided to hand out to her. She would have no choice but to take it until she found a way off this boat and back into her bleak existence.
He moved over her until she was forced to lean back against the c
ushions. His powerful arms flexed around her slender body, showing her how breakable she was. When he spoke, his voice was soft, like deep velvet, though his words were terrifying. “Should’ve told me, Katerina. Would have taken care of the problem a year ago. Could’ve been fucking me in payment, instead of him.”
She gasped and tried to roll away from him off the side of the bench. He caged her against the seat and dropped the weight of his lower body against her, pinning her in place. She shoved against his chest, but his arms tightened in response until she was only bruising herself against his muscular body. Finally, she subsided, relaxing in his hold, breathing heavily. She balled her hands into fists in her lap and refused to look at him.
“Is he dead?” she whispered, not looking at him.
Roman hauled her up against his body, refusing to allow her the room that she craved. He took her jaw in his big hand, caressing her chin with his long fingers and held her face up to his. He pierced her with his dark, almost black eyes and forced her to read the truth within. He tilted her face just a little and touched the edge of her mouth with his hard lips before tracing a line up her cheek toward her ear. She shivered as his tongue darted into the delicate shell of her ear before tracing the lobe.
He pulled back slightly and spoke in a hard voice, “Yes.”
Katie’s stomach plunged and she went limp in Roman’s arms as she remembered the pool of blood in Colin’s apartment. The blood that had belonged to her ex-husband. The blood that had been spilled by the hands that were now holding her. She blinked as tears pricked the corners of her eyes and blackness started to edge in on her vision. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession as she gasped for breath.
Thieving Hearts Page 4
