“Oh God.” I swallowed. That sounded bad. “Can’t Colt just withdraw from the deal? If he didn’t want to do it in the first place?”
“I’m sure he’s working on that. But it sounds like the cartel doesn’t just want your family’s company out of there. They want revenge.”
“Revenge?” That sounded terrifying. I took a sip of water, my hand shaking. “This doesn’t sound…” I knew we held a variety of investments, mainly real estate, but Colt had been branching out more and more into growth areas like biotech and alternative energy sources. “Columbian coffee? That just doesn’t make any sense.” I could feel my heart racing and I tried to take some deep breaths. “I can’t even believe Leonard would be that greedy. And how could Colt not know?”
“Your brother only found out about it recently. Leonard used his influence with the older board members to keep it off Colt’s radar. He’s had his hands full, stepping into your father’s role. It’s not hard for me to imagine he missed a sliver in the pie of investments that make up the portfolio, especially if his own COO was hiding it from him.”
“Oh God, is Colt safe? And Caroline?” I brought my hands to my mouth, fearing the worst. I had Dom to look after me, but what about them? They’d only just gotten married. Life was looking so sweet and good for them, and now this?
“Gigi, worry about yourself for a change. Your brother and his wife are fine. You’re the one they’re after.”
I rubbed my forehead, liking but not liking his answer. “Why me?”
“You’re an excellent bargaining chip.”
“Oh my God.” I brought my hand over my mouth and felt like I was going to get sick. I had a Columbian drug cartel after me? And they wanted to blackmail my brother? With what, kidnapping me? Torturing me? I’d seen movies. I’d read books. This was bad. I started to rise up so I could stand and, I don’t know, hide or scream or run.
Dom reached out and put his large hand on my shoulder. “Gigi. They thought you were a vulnerable target. But they were wrong.”
“They were?” I felt pretty fucking vulnerable. I’d taken a self-defense class my sophomore year of college. I’d learned to go for the eyes and the balls and yell “Fire!” as loud as I could. Somehow I didn’t think that would be enough up against these guys.
“Gigi, you are safe here. The system around this house is better than a maximum-security prison.”
“But we just walked right in. The side door was open.” My eyes darted over to it. Was it still open? What if a guy like that man in black Dom had shot last night was there right now? What if that guy in black had gotten there before Dom? What would have happened then?
“Gigi, listen to me.” He cupped his hand under my chin and drew my gaze up to his. His touch was strong and reassuring. “The side door was open when we arrived because I wanted it to be. It’s locked now. There are armed, trained men guarding this house from every angle. The windows are bulletproof. If all else fails, there is a panic room underground. Everything is going to be all right.”
I looked up into his eyes and felt rather than heard his meaning. Dom would keep me safe. I took a deep breath, letting my shoulders relax.
“Your brother is going to straighten things out. I’m assuming he’ll cut ties with the Columbian company and then work out a settlement with the cartel. Money like he has will take care of it. Until then, you’ll be safe here.”
“And you’ll stay with me?” It hadn’t occurred to me before, I’d been too angry with Dom for not telling me what was going on, but now it seemed like a terrifying outcome if he left me. I’d be here on my own, nothing but my fears and imagination to worry me day and night.
“I’ll stay with you.” His eyes held dark, intent promise.
“Why did Colt ask you?” I knew I had my reasons for wanting Dom with me. Reasons I’d spent the last several years trying to forget. But my brother employed all kinds of people, including security. He could have asked any of them.
“He knows he can trust me.”
At those words, Dom looked away and stood up, bringing his plate and glass to the sink. “I’ll go upstairs and figure out which bedrooms we can take. I want you in an adjoining room so I can keep an eye on you, but you can still have your privacy.”
I looked down at my plate, fighting a strange surge of disappointment. My emotions were raging all over the map. Earlier today I’d wanted to scream at him he was being so stubborn. But when I’d seen that huge bed in the master suite, I had to admit, it seemed meant for us to share. But apparently he didn’t feel the same way. Years had passed. It only made sense. He’d kissed me at the party, but maybe that had been an old-times’-sake kind of a good-bye kiss for him. It was my problem if it had moved heaven and earth.
“Hopefully we won’t be here too long.” He left the kitchen and headed upstairs.
Quietly, I cleaned my dishes in the sink. I poured a big glass of ice water and drank it slowly, looking out the window. Somehow I’d always pictured bulletproof glass as tinted, and maybe too thick to see out of clearly, but this window provided a lovely view of the courtyard in front of the home. Lots of light illuminated well-tended landscaping, with planters on multiple tiers featuring draught-tolerant vegetation. Every corner, every inch was lit, right up to the 14-foot wall which I now realized probably surrounded the entire property. I was inside a walled fortress. With Dominic Knox. A shiver of anticipation traveled down my spine.
As I came up the stairs, he called me toward one of the many doors off the hallway. “Tell me which room you want.”
I followed his voice and glanced into two adjoining bedrooms, both furnished identically with queen beds and dressers. “How many bedrooms does this place have?”
“A bunch, but these two are connected by a door so I want us here.”
Deciding it made no difference, I sat down on a bed. “I’ll take this one.” Down in the kitchen I hadn’t thought I was tired, but now I felt exhaustion set into my bones. I desperately needed to lie down.
“You need something to sleep in?” Dom called from the other room before my eyes had closed. He knocked and entered through the connecting door. “Here’s a T-shirt and shorts if you need them.” He set them on the dresser, then paused and looked at me stretched out on the bed. “Tired?”
I nodded.
“Change before you fall asleep. You’ll be more comfortable.”
And then, like a brother or a guy paid to watch over me, he left the room. He also left the door open a crack, the better to hear the bad guys.
I didn’t feel like standing up, but I knew he was right so I undressed and slipped into the T-shirt. The exercise shorts fell right off of me even though they had an elastic waistband. They were his clothes, I realized.
I climbed into bed. The sheets were soft, the mattress firm, and the T-shirt smelled like Dom. Closing my eyes, I felt way more content than I should have.
* * *
§
* * *
The next morning, I didn’t make it out of bed until near ten. I stretched and again felt far too comfortable for a woman targeted by a Columbian cartel. Sleepy and hungry, I made my way downstairs and started rummaging around in the refrigerator.
“What are you wearing?” Dom entered the kitchen behind me, and he sounded angry.
“What?” I looked down. He’d given me his T-shirt. Had he forgotten? “You gave it to me.”
“With shorts.” His gaze was glued to my thighs, right where the hemline of the T-shirt grazed them up high.
I bit my lip. I guessed I should have put on something more before I went downstairs. “The shorts fall off me.”
“Then put on something else.” He sounded frustrated and left the kitchen. Great, so that was how it was going to be between us? At this rate each day would pass like an eternity. Feeling embarrassed, I grabbed an apple and headed upstairs again. He made me feel like I’d been trying to seduce him or something.
Determined to find regular clothes to wear, I headed back
into the master bedroom and searched again. In the corner of a shelf above the closet, I found it, a little treasure trove of casual. All folded up in back were two outfits suited for a yoga class, capri tights and fitted tank tops plus a zip-up sweatshirt. Jackpot. Maybe whoever had worn it before me had dressed like that to workout, maybe to hang out. Whatever it was, I said a thank you to the safe house gods and changed. Comfortable, athletic, I didn’t have sneakers but other than that I was good to go.
I folded the T-shirt and shorts and left them in Dom’s bedroom. I didn’t know where he’d unpacked his bag. The room looked like no one had been there, let alone spent the night. The bed was made as crisp as it had been yesterday.
I wandered through the house, feeling so strangely aimless. I was supposed to meet with a client today, a friend of my mother’s who was redecorating her living room. Dom had taken away my phone and now I understood why. I suspected calls could be traced, and maybe even the phone, itself could be tracked. But I wished I could talk to my brother and hear his side of all this. Maybe I could give him a list of people to call, meetings to cancel. Penny must be panicked and I didn’t want to let anyone down or make them worry about me.
The house was huge. I wasn’t a great judge of space, but if I had to guess I’d say it was around 10,000 square feet. It had a movie room, a fully stocked bar and lounge area, and a workout facility to rival a high-end apartment complex like the one where I lived. Elliptical machines, weights, exercise balls—it was fully stocked. That was where I finally found Dom, going at it like a man possessed.
He was doing pull-ups on a bar. Shirtless, dripping with sweat and grunting, he heaved himself up again and again. I couldn’t help but watch his masculine display, his muscles straining and bulging, his back to me so broad and powerful. He’d gotten bigger than when I’d seen him last, more bulk, more brawn. Every inch of him was lean, muscular and hard.
Finally he dropped down, sweaty, panting, hands to his thighs. Then he turned around, not surprised to see me. He must have known I was standing there staring at him. I blushed and looked down, caught.
“What are you wearing now?” he growled, not sounding any happier.
“You don’t like this, either?” I pulled at the tank top. It was fitted, but nothing I hadn’t seen women of every age dashing around Manhattan in as they flitted from yoga class to coffee shop.
“It’s better,” he grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe himself off. “If you want to work out, I’ll be done in 45 minutes. Then you can have the room to yourself.”
OK, so he didn’t even want to exercise with me in the same room.
“We have cable, but not internet,” he informed me, like a tour guide as he made his way over to the free weights. “There’s a library. And a pool.” Then he looked at me as if to say, “So what’s keeping you here?”
I got his message loud and clear. He wanted me out of his hair. Fine. My feelings were hurt, but I’d show him I didn’t need to hang out with him anyway. In the library I found a John le Carré spy novel. Channeling all my nervous, jittery energy, I curled up on a sofa to read it cover to cover. It had car chases and hideouts, just like my real life.
I took a shower, ate dinner alone and headed up to bed without seeing Dom again. For two people stuck in the same house, we had sure done a good job of avoiding each other all day.
That night, it took me a while to settle down. Three nights ago I’d watched Dom shoot a man in the hallway outside my apartment. I’d been in a car chase through Manhattan. Now I was trapped in a house in Arizona with a man who wouldn’t talk to me and it was so quiet I could hear a pin drop.
I was still awake when I finally heard him head into his room. I listened to him rustle around, and then the door connecting our rooms cracked open an inch. Was he coming in? I must have gasped, because then I heard his rumbling, deep voice from the next room.
“Don’t worry, princess, I’m not coming in there. I’m just keeping the door open a crack.”
Then it took me even longer to fall asleep. I tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, and it made it worse that I could hear him doing the same, shifting in his bed. It was like we were sharing the same room.
I didn’t know how I’d fallen asleep so fast the night before. Now I felt so agitated, too hot for my covers. Maybe tomorrow I’d look for a fan.
I kept thinking about him in the exercise room. How relentlessly he’d pumped on that pull-up bar, pushing himself, drenched in sweat. It had been a long time since I’d touched myself. Sometimes months passed without that side of me awakening, almost as if it lay dormant, turned off. But it was awake now. It would feel so good to slip a finger down. I bet I’d be wet. I could keep quiet, just pleasure myself a little bit, maybe not even orgasm. It had been a while since I’d given myself one.
But I heard Dom shift in his bed in the next room. He was too close. The door between our rooms was open. If he caught me touching myself it would be so embarrassing. I kept my hands away from where I ached and finally, finally drifted to sleep.
* * *
§
* * *
Most of the next day passed in the same way. Dom did three workouts that I knew about. I saw him briefly, passing me in the hallway, sweaty after his morning exercise. Then I glanced out and saw him doing laps in the backyard pool around lunchtime. Later in the afternoon I headed down to do a workout of my own and I found him there in the exercise room again, doing push-ups like he had a drill sergeant driving him to do it. Maybe he was a drill sergeant, himself? He was in such badass shape. If he was he was probably brutally punishing to his group. Squad? I didn’t know many military terms.
He practically leapt up when he saw me come in. “I’ll leave you to it.” He headed out.
I could have let him go, but it was only our second full day in the house and I was already getting bored out of my mind. “I’m going to cook some dinner tonight.” I decided on the spot. “Why don’t you eat with me? Six o’clock?” He started to decline, saying what I didn’t know. “Do you have other plans?” I asked, eyebrow arched. “Are you heading out?”
“Fine,” he agreed, not sounding thrilled at the prospect.
I exercised with about 10 percent of his intensity, but still felt pretty proud of myself for doing it. I showered and changed back into the newly-laundered sweater and jeans I’d brought from home. In the fridge I found eggs, ham and parmesan cheese so I decided to make spaghetti carbonara and a simple salad. On impulse, I opened a bottle of red wine.
Dom came down at six o’clock, freshly showered and looking good enough to eat himself. He hadn’t dressed up, just wearing jeans and an old T-shirt, but oh the way that shirt clung to his broad, powerful chest and revealed the tattoos twining down his biceps and forearms. I had to look away so I wouldn’t drool on the floor. Dom had rejected me more than any other man, and yet still turned me on more than any other, either. That just didn’t seem fair.
We sat down at the kitchen island to eat. The dinner came out pretty tasty, but I didn’t have much appetite. That was all right, though. Dom ate enough for both of us, even as he held himself to only one glass of wine.
“This is really good.” He served himself a third helping of spaghetti.
Taking a deep breath to bolster my courage, I launched in to try to start some conversation with the brick wall. “So, have you been overseas with the army?”
“Yes.” He took another bite.
“Are you done now, or just on leave?”
“On leave.”
“So, you’ll go back overseas again?”
“Yes.” Munch, munch, sip. Conversation was not flowing
“Are you limited to one word answers only?” I tried to lighten the mood.
“On leave is two words.” At least he looked up as he said it, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“Did we get this house through the military?”
“No.”
“Who then?”
He exhaled and pushed his
plate away, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “The less you know the better, Gigi.” I kept looking at him expectantly, and to my surprise he relented a bit. “I know some guys from back where I grew up. Connections through my father.”
I nodded, remembering he’d made a few, brief references to a rough childhood. He didn’t volunteer any more, so I asked, “How long do you think we’ll be in this house?”
“Not sure.”
“Are you going to work out three times a day every day we’re here?” I tried to tease him.
“If that’s what it takes.” He sounded serious. Then he rose and took his plates to the sink. “You can leave yours. I’ll clean them. Thanks for making dinner.”
His tone couldn’t be more clear. He was telling me to get lost. I stared at his back. Why was he being so dismissive? We were trapped in the house together, only each other for company. Didn’t he realize it would be a lot more pleasant if he were at least nice?
His back muscles rippled as he soaped up a plate. Wow. What were those muscles called that wrapped from the back of his shoulder down his arm? Deltoids? He had really great deltoids. He could give anatomy lessons. I’d be his star student, as long as I got to touch in addition to look.
“Why don’t you head up to bed?” he said without turning around.
Fine. I stood up and did just that. I read for a while, then decided to take a bath. It felt so good, soaking in that warm water, but it didn’t exactly relax me. If anything, by the time I climbed back into bed all rosy pink and warm I was even more agitated, my body hyper-aware and awake.
Dom was so crazy sexy, with such raw male power. I hadn’t seen a single man who could hold a candle to him in the past four years. All those college boys down at my fancy private university, they’d had the preppy look down and some of them were so handsome they could model in a catalogue. But none of them looked like they could pin your wrists to the bed and make you like it. The way Dom had done years ago. The way I still fantasized about late at night.
Undeniable: Dom & Gigi Page 17
