With a sigh of disgust, Katie stood with her hands on her hips. “Hey, Domingo, you got a minute?”
Domingo jerked so hard his head hit the cupboard above the sink. Katie snorted, but calmed quickly. She didn't think he would appreciate humour at his expense. Her eyes fell to his belt as he spun around, surprisingly agile for a majorly drunk guy. The dagger she’d come for was sheathed at his waist. Well damn. If she’d known that, she never in a million years would have pawed through his dirty underwear, sheets, socks, porn collection… seriously no amount of bleach was going to erase her time in this place.
“The fuck you doin’ here, puta?” he demanded.
Well that was a rude assumption to make, Katie thought grumpily. How did he know she was a whore?
He eyed her up and down, making her skin crawl in a way that made cuddling with the rat look like a great idea. She really wished she didn’t need to approach him for the dagger. She wondered if she could get him to just slide it across the kitchen floor toward her, like people did in movies. Oh wait, did she need some kind of leverage to get him to do that?
“Did the boys send you over?” he asked drunkenly, lurching away from the counter and stumbling toward her. “Dey know I like me some blondies.”
“Oh… no,” Katie gagged. “Oh my god… ew. So gross!”
He reached for her just as she planted her heavy, reinforced leather boot in his crotch. He went straight over backwards into a pile of empties. Cockroaches scattered across the kitchen. Katie screamed and jumped around in terror as the cockroaches ran while Domingo clutched his aching balls and howled in pain. She forced herself to reach down and snatch the dagger from its sheath.
Holding it up to the light, she ensured that it was the one she’d come for. A perfect match to the one Roman carried with him, only instead of a wolf etched into the handle, this one had a scorpion. According to Lana, this knife had belonged to Felipe, Roman's uncle. A man that was more of a father to Roman than the man that had sired him.
When the Valdez cartel had fallen, Felipe had helped Roman escape at the expense of his own life. When Domingo had caught up to Felipe, he had tortured Roman’s uncle brutally for the boy’s location. Felipe had died never giving his nephew up to the Ramirez cartel. According to Lana, he’d been gutted, then had his throat slit by this very knife, a knife given to him by his own father, Roman’s grandfather. The story and the knife had become legend, which is why Katie refused to allow the treasure to remain with this scum.
Katie turned to leave, the dagger tucked safely away into a sheath she’d brought with her. She turned back, glaring down at the disgusting pig of a man. “This is for Donna Marie,” she snapped, drew back her foot and kicked him in the ribs. He howled in pain, but with a swiftness that took Katie by surprise, Domingo grabbed her booted ankle and yanked her right off her feet.
Katie’s legs went flying out from under her and she landed sprawled out on top of Domingo. Before she had time to process whatever nasty thing was crusted onto his shirt, he had his hands wrapped around her throat and was rolling her underneath him. He squeezed her neck with enough strength to choke the breath out of her. Katie gagged and choked as black dots danced in her eyes. She clawed at his hands trying to pry them off of her throat.
He rocked his hips against her, shoving what was unmistakably an erection into her. Katie felt vomit rushing up her throat and had to swallow it. She tried punching every part of him she could reach, but he didn't feel a thing, probably numb from the amount of booze in his system. Finally, she managed to punch him in the nose and he loosened his hold on her neck. He swung his head, shaking it while she scrambled, trying to get out from underneath him.
“Going to kill you, bitch, then fuck your scrawny ass until you beg to die,” he snarled grabbing her neck again and reaching for her shirt, clearly intent on tearing it. His aim was clumsy and he only managed to tug the sleeve down a little.
“Oh god, your breath is so… bad!” Katie gagged hoarsely, looking around frantically. The rat, or possibly a new one, scurried past, running over the ends of Katie’s hair and then over an empty tequila bottle. Katie’s eyes widened and she grasped the neck of the bottle. She swung it into his head with all her strength, catching him in the temple.
Domingo’s eyes rolled back and he slumped sideways. Katie wasted no time scrambling out from underneath him and back onto her feet. As grateful as she was to her rat buddy for showing her the way to get Domingo off, she wasn't interested in getting her hair stepped on again. She quickly checked to make sure Domingo was alive. Killing him wasn't part of her plan. Not yet, anyway. Then she backed up a little and kicked him in the foot. She’d learned her lesson about kicking boys in the ribs, they could grab her foot when she was least expecting it.
“You wanted to fuck my ass and then kill it, you total and complete idiot,” Katie told his unconscious form with disgust dripping from every syllable. “Otherwise you’d be fucking a dead woman. Word order matters, moron. God, Donna Marie is so much better off.”
Shaking her head in annoyance, Katie whirled away from him and stomped toward the front door, more than ready to leave Domingo Ramirez’s less-than-friendly abode. Roman could have him, gift wrapped with a bow on top, for all she cared. She didn't like the asshole one little bit. Hmm. Could she arrange a gift-wrapping?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
He’d found her.
She felt the prickling heat of his gaze as it landed on her and scorched every bit of her bikini clad form where it was stretched out on the lounger. She knew he would find her eventually. It wasn’t like she’d done a great job of hiding this time. She loved the Mayan Riviera and had chosen a particularly gorgeous location to escape to while she waited for her irate husband to catch up with her. Using his credit card to purchase clothes in Cancun and then paying for a two-week stay at an exclusive five-star resort was like begging him to come find her sooner rather than later. And her gorgeous, dark man hadn’t disappointed.
She had slowed him down a bit though by digging the vile locator chip out of her thigh. It was the first thing she’d done after crawling out of bed the night she’d left him. She’d grabbed a knife and hurried up to the roof, certain he would activate the chip as soon as he realized she wasn’t in bed with him. Gritting her teeth, she had cut into her thigh (not very far, because the chip wasn’t deep) and pulled it out with the tip of the knife. She had dabbed antiseptic on the wound, but left it open since it was still bleeding. It had hurt to dance and jump with a wound in her thigh, blood dripping slowly down her leg as she twisted and turned. But the pain had not been nearly as bad as watching Roman suffer at her hands, terrified that she was about to kill herself. As long as she lived she would never forget the look in his eyes.
She wondered what he’d thought or said when he’d discovered the little chip in a water glass along with a bottle of antiseptic and a few bloodied cotton balls up on the rooftop. Katie winced a little. On second thought, she really didn't want to know what he thought when he saw that stuff, it probably wasn’t complimentary.
She could see Roman out of her peripheral vision as he approached on the beach. Oh, yummy! He certainly didn’t fit in with his dark blue jeans, tight black T-shirt, leather vest and boots, but he was always the star in her fantasies. A smile drifted across her lips as she felt his eyes drinking her in, from the top of her head, covered in a wide-brimmed sunhat to protect her pale skin from the sun, down her long, lithe body, clad in a hot pink bikini, to her toes, painted coral with delicate crystals set in the big toenails. She’d stopped into a salon in Cancun and paid for it courtesy of her generous esposo. She knew he enjoyed her new curves, some of them regained after he’d removed the stress of Colin from her life and some of them from the enforced satisfaction of marriage at the hacienda.
Roman sat heavily in the lounge chair beside hers. He faced her, his knees spread, his arms loose but tense between his legs. She didn't look at him, but she glanced down at his boots, dug deep in the whit
e sand. Such a strange juxtaposition.
Before he could say anything, a waiter appeared with a tray. “Your drinks, Señor and Señora Valdez.”
Roman didn’t take his eyes off of Katie as the server set their drinks on the small table between their two chairs. Two shots of tequila and a margarita. Katie smiled and thanked the man, handing him a generous tip. She waited for him to leave before reaching beneath her towel on the other side of her chair. She took the dagger she had stolen from Domingo and stabbed it into the wooden table between their two shot glasses, causing the liquid to jump. Roman’s eyes went to the knife, recognition burning immediately within their dark depths.
“How?” he demanded, his eyes on the dagger still quivering in the cheerful lime coloured wood of the table in between their two chairs. “I’ve been searching for this man for a year. We both know I’m a born hunter, baby. I could find you anywhere in the world. How did you find Domingo Ramirez in my country when I have failed?”
She smiled and took a sip of her drink. “Oh baby," she purred, “don’t take it personally! You’re a damn good hunter, everyone knows that. You can find anyone and, given enough time, I have no doubt you would have found Domingo as well.”
A delicate shudder rippled through Katie’s frame as she remembered Domingo and the state of his home. She hastily took another long sip of her drink, enjoying the warmth that spread through her belly and chased away the awful scene in Domingo’s cottage. That was something she would never tell her husband. He didn't need to know how close to rape and death she had actually come in her insane quest to prove to her husband that she was equal to him. Not for herself, because, yes, he would undoubtedly rage at her and spank the life out of her. No, she didn't want him to feel guilt. He would twist the scenario around and eventually blame himself for driving her into a corner.
“Domingo left a girlfriend behind, did you know?” Katie asked, looking at her husband from beneath her lashes. He still looked good enough to eat, but their weeks of separation had clearly weighed on him as much as it had on her. No more of that. She was done running.
Roman’s lip curled in disgust. After meeting the man in person, Katie tended to agree. She nodded. “Donna Marie,” she told him, sipping nonchalantly at her drink. “A cute little thing that he absolutely didn’t deserve and I was quick to tell her so when she brought in the freshly washed laundry each week.”
“Son of a bitch!” Roman exploded quietly in the seat next to her. “How did I miss such a thing?”
Katie giggled wickedly. “It turns out even though dude is a disgusting cockroach of a douche, he kept in touch. Mostly to keep an eye on your situation because he knew Donna Marie was working at the big house. I can’t believe,” she stopped to make a gagging sound, “that man – and I use the word lightly – actually thought a woman of that calibre would wait around for the likes of him. She never told him shit, by the way, so don't even think about unleashing any kind of hell on her for blabbing. She mostly just lamented that she was almost thirty-five and unmarried. I told her she needs to get some self-esteem, get a better job and boyfriend worthy of her gorgeous ass. Because, girl please…”
“Katerina!” Roman cut her off sharply. “I don't want to hear about Anna-Marie’s…”
“Donna Marie,” Katie corrected him.
“Whoever!” he growled impatiently, pulling the empty glass from her fingers and slamming it on the table. “You mean you managed to get all of this information from my staff when I did not, and then you sat on it? You did not come to me?”
Katie sighed and looked away from the accusation in his eyes. “No, Roman, I didn’t.”
“Why?” he demanded, his voice taking on a savage edge. “You know it is my right to avenge my family. My uncle. The man Domingo sliced open from ear to ear because he would not give away my location.”
Katie sat up and swung her feet off the lounger. She reached for the dagger and pried it out of the wooden table so she could make her next point. It wasn't easy, dammit! This is why she didn't mess around with knives. Roman’s dark eyes tracked her every move. Finally, she worked the blade free and held it loosely between her thighs.
“Vengeance is still yours, Roman. I never intended to take that from you when I went after him.” Yeah, she was definitely never going to tell him how close she came to filleting Domingo like a fish when he was laying helpless on the floor and she was standing over him with the knife. For so many reasons.
“Then why did you do it?” he demanded, pain evident in his voice now. His voice dropped to a low growl as the words tore from his throat. “I wanted to die when you went off the roof, woman. Jorje had to hold me back or I would have leapt with you. But you fucking climbed down like you were born a monkey.”
Katie’s breath left her in a rush. She had been counting on Jorje holding him back from doing something rash. She’d known he would rush after her. Known how great his panic would be until he saw her safe on the ground. It had been the one part of her plan that had been hardest to execute. Roman didn’t deserve that kind of pain. But it was the only way she could think of to make him really listen to her for a few minutes, then make a quick escape without falling back into his hands.
It was worth it, she reminded herself. He was here with her now and if he was willing to actually listen with open ears and an open mind, perhaps they could move on to their version of happily ever after.
“Parkour,” Katie murmured.
“Yeah,” Roman said gruffly. “I figured that out once my heart started beating again and I remembered what you said about learning a new skill. But fuck, you could’ve told me before you jumped. Think I aged a good thirty years over that stunt.”
Katie laughed and shrugged. “If I’d told you, you would’ve realized what I meant to do and tried to grab me before I was ready to jump.”
“Still, fucking dangerous, Katerina. People die doing that shit,” he grumbled.
“Says the cartel boss,” she laughed, rolling her eyes.
He stared at her as though seeing her for the first time. Her heart pounded as she waited for his verdict. Was he thinking of extra evil ways to lock her up now that she’d revealed all of her cards, or was he looking at his wife and seeing the potential powerhouse he could have at his side? Was he looking at her with the respect she craved from him since their first meeting eighteen years ago? God, she hoped so!
“What do we do about Ramirez?” Roman asked gruffly.
Katie’s heart took flight, soaring into the clear blue Riviera sky. He said we, not I! She turned her face up to him and flipped the blade in her hand. She held it out to him, offering the gleaming bone handle to her husband. His hand closed over it, brushing against her fingers and sending sparks sizzling through her.
“He’s all yours, mi esposo,” she said with a quick grin. “Consider him the wedding gift I never gave you.”
Roman’s eyes glowed with a new kind of warmth she wasn't used to seeing. A combination of love and respect. It stole what was left of a heart she thought he’d taken completely long ago. Flipping the knife easily in his hand, he looked down into her face. He looked like he wanted to swoop at her like a huge, dark and dangerous bandit about to steal her away. Katie really, really hoped so.
He stared back at her, studying her with steely resolve, clearly trying to decide if he was going to pick up her challenge or throw her on his shoulder, carry her back to the hacienda and lock her ass back up. Finally, he picked up the shot glass still sitting on the table. He handed her the other and said in his deep serious voice, “Equals, mi esposa,” before tossing the drink back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Katie grinned and gulped hers back as well before whooping with joy and hurling herself across the lounger and into his lap. Roman was quick to toss the blade aside before his reckless woman accidentally stabbed herself. He knocked her ridiculous hat off and kissed her thoroughly before demanding, “Now tell me where the fuck that culero lives?”
“I have a m
ap to his place in my room,” she said huskily, kissing along his jaw. She rocked back on his lap with a grin and earned a tortured groan from him.
“It’s a damn good thing that’s exactly where I want to be right now,” he growled and bent down to toss her over his shoulder using one arm. Katie laughed and clung onto him with one hand while gripping her hat with the other. She was glad she’d left her sandals in her room or she was pretty sure they wouldn’t make it.
He reached for the dagger and demanded, “Now point the way to our room. I have apparently paid a lot for our stay here and intend to fuck my wife until she is too weak to leap off high buildings and break into the houses of my enemies.”
Katie giggled and pointed toward a set of condos. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like I might have done something wrong, Roman.”
“We can discuss your punishment when we get to the room.”
“Roman,” she warned, her voice taking on a pleading note as she remembered the whipping.
“Katerina, mujer,” he returned, his own voice unsympathetic as he strode in the direction she’d indicated. “Do not even pretend you don't love what I do to you.”
She dug the key card out of her bikini top and handed it to him when they arrived at the room. She thought he would immediately demand the map, but instead he kicked the door closed, locked it and tossed her on the bed. She landed with a gasp and a bounce. He looked like some kind of crazy Mexican villain, straight out of the movies, standing over her with a wicked looking dagger. The breath caught in her throat and she instinctively tried to back away from him up the bed as he stepped slowly toward her, his expression dark and hungry.
Though he seemed to understand that their marriage had to be a partnership if it was going to work, it didn't mean he wasn't going to punish her for running away from him. Again. And probably a little for jumping off the hacienda roof. And damn, she really hoped he didn’t find out she actually met Domingo Ramirez, because she suspected he wouldn’t enjoy that little tidbit.
Thieving Hearts Page 20
