As I wait for Logan, my eyes drift to Quinn, already back behind his desk, his fingers on his keyboard again, and wonder why I’ve never met Carter before. It’s not a question I’ve thought of before now. I’ve heard the name on occasion, either from Logan or overhearing Quinn and Dad speaking, but he never came with Logan when we met up. It was like he wasn’t really part of the family even though he’s always been there. I’ve never even seen a picture of him. He’s older than Logan and me, though. Maybe he wasn’t able to come, or maybe he was just working, doing all this business stuff.
Uncle Quinn sighs and breaks me from my thoughts, now playing with his dice rather than typing, worry etched into his brow. I frown and shrug my bag tighter. I know what situation I’ve put him in. When my dad finds out I came here and that Quinn didn’t tell him immediately, there will be more than just tension to worry about.
Time ticks on, and anxiety about still being here creeps over me, like I’m intruding. I need to get out of this office before Quinn has a change of heart.
“Look, I’m happy to make my own–” I start.
“Carter, it’s fine. A detour. No problem.” Logan’s voice carries as he waltzes back into the office.
But it isn’t Logan I'm drawn to watching.
It’s the man next to him.
Holy shit.
“The sooner you have your own responsibilities, the sooner you'll understand,” he comments before he looks over to me. The moment he does, I freeze, like I’ve been caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.
His face is expressionless, indicating neither anger nor pleasure. It’s blank, but I can see his eyes take in everything about the room. Including me. Processing. Analysing.
“Carter, meet Sofia Vico. My niece.”
He nods, a fraction of a movement that doesn’t dislodge a single one of his dirty-blond hairs. His forest-green eyes remain on me, and I feel heat gather in the pit of my stomach and race towards my cheeks. As I continue to stare, I notice a scar on his chin, trailing down to hide beneath the collar of his shirt. I absently wonder how far it reaches.
If I could flee, I would, but my feet are rooted to the ground, my legs shaking as my heart thunders in my chest. Everything I’ve experienced over the last nineteen years evaporates from my brain, rendering me a useless child in the presence of this man. I can’t even step forward to shake his hand or say a simple hello.
My sudden episode of rudeness and girlish awe doesn’t seem to faze Carter. After a couple of moments that feel like an eternity—an eternity where I can mentally check off every fine feature of his body—he turns to speak to Quinn.
Once his back is turned, I breathe as if gasping for air. My fingers find work in checking my bag and tidying my hair behind my ear, steeling myself for when his attention returns.
“You ready to go? Pop’s already texted Mom. She’s excited to see you,” Logan says.
“Don’t you need to wait for him?” My eyes flutter towards Carter.
“He can catch up, right, Carter?” He raises his voice to make sure he hears.
Carter doesn’t reply. He just stares, first at Logan, and then at me again. His eyes light me up from the inside. It’s instant, like turning on a switch I never knew was there. His own expression remains cool, though, unfazed by anything. Me included apparently.
“I’ll meet you later,” he eventually says. “I need to go over a few things.” The low rumble of his voice only heightens the attraction I’ve been bulldozed with.
Reluctantly, I follow Logan as he heads out of the room, and I chance a last glance backwards at a profile like nothing I've ever seen before. His back is to me. No interest on show.
Still, the next few days are looking a lot more interesting.
Five
Two hours I ended up being in the office with Quinn. We talked over a few things, including the current screw ups at the docks. We never got around to discussing Arch crossing the river, but he didn't need to know that. That's my department. My terms. My negotiations. My rules. Still, he was distant for most of the conversation, his mind thinking of something else rather than the problems in front of us, not the usual sharpness he displays.
“You alright?” I asked.
“Mmm. Kids. Future.”
That’s all the answer I got before he shook his head, got his stuff together and left. Guess Vico’s daughter turning up unannounced had gotten to him. She might be his niece, and a hot-as-fuck looking niece at that, but no one likes interruptions in their plans. Not only is that woman an interruption, but she’s also a distraction. I felt it in my dick. I didn’t allow anybody to see my reaction, certainly not Quinn or Logan, but that is one fine piece of ass, regardless of her casual appearance.
I drive through the city limits and hit the accelerator to get home, trying to clear my head of the images she brought with her. Long legs. Cute dimples in her cheeks. Just as pretty as her mother with golden hair and striking dark eyes, but holding Vico’s air about her somehow, regardless of her age. I’ve never met her before, only seen a picture up at the main house. Guess she was about eleven or twelve when it was taken, juvenile. That isn’t how she looks now. She is all grown up with curves in all the right places and clearly visible under her T-shirt. Fuck, she certainly isn’t someone I should be thinking about, let alone imagining fucking.
My head shakes, and I growl at myself. What idiot would even contemplate it? She’s Vico’s daughter. Benjamin Fucking Vico. She’s untouchable. And young. I don’t touch anything under twenty-five. They’re ready for me that way.
Strong enough.
Gravel kicks up on the drive as I eventually power in through the gates and weave through the grounds. Logan’s car is parked up by the main house, Quinn’s next to his. I flick my eyes to Nate’s place as I slow past it, watching as Gabby steps into her own car and floors it back out the way I just came in. She amuses me. She doesn’t look a day over forty, eyes like slits at anything that dares get in her way. She’s been good to me over the years, helped me out in ways none of the others could.
With women mainly.
I park and slam the door, my legs striding towards the main house. Apparently, I’m taking Logan with me to Miami now. That was an unwelcome piece of news to find out at the end of our meeting. I don’t know what changed Quinn’s mind, but he told me to take him along after all, show him the meet we have set up, and let him witness it, from the sidelines of course—not just the casino opening. He said it like he suddenly needed Logan to know it all, to see all of what Cane does. Frankly, it’s concerning. Logan doesn’t like the background and is likely to fuck something up when he tries to play God in front of other teams. The last thing I need is him attached to me when the meet happens.
Emily walks out as I’m walking in, and a car starts pulling up behind me. I turn to see Gabby coming back for her.
“Hi, Carter,” she says, waving at me. “Quinn’s in the main lounge arguing with Logan. I’m leaving. Possibly for good.” My eyes widen, and I follow her as she stomps over to the car in her heels, somehow managing to remain elegant. The door opens and she slides in, a smile on her face. “Probably not in reality, but I’m not listening to that anymore either. You can by all means. Bye.”
The car screams out as loudly as it did the first time around, and I watch the dust kick up for a few minutes, wondering what argument I’m going to walk in on, or whether I should even walk in at all. Those two arguing is never a good thing, no matter how much it’s been happening lately.
I sigh and jog up the steps to the main entrance, letting the scanner read my iris before disengaging the security on the house. My hand pushes the door open, and the first thing I’m greeted with is the sound of Logan bitching about something. I keep moving, heading their way in the hope I can stop his mouth saying something he’ll regret later. Quinn’s voice cuts in, muttering something I can’t hear, and then Logan’s off again.
Fuck.
“Why? What’s your fucking problem?”
Logan bitches.
I walk on until I’m near the back of the house and wait outside the room, wondering what the hell it’s all about.
“She’s Vico’s daughter, my niece, and your damn cousin, Logan.”
“And? I was just going for a swim.”
Something smashes against the wall on the inside of the room, probably Logan throwing something in a temper tantrum, or Quinn doing the same.
“Your eyes were not going swimming. They were doing everything but fucking swimming,” Quinn shouts, his feet scuffing the floor. “You back the hell off. She can go to Miami with Carter and—”
The fuck she can.
I push on the door and enter the room. I’m not taking a young piece of tail along with me on this ride, certainly not given who her father is. Quinn swings his gaze to me, aggression and ferocity written all over his face, then turns back to Logan.
“You’re being a fucking asshole, Pops. It was a swim. That’s all. Why do you always think the worst of me?” A scowl so deep develops on Quinn’s face that even I stop moving to interfere.
Silence for a few seconds, presumably as Quinn tries to calm himself down rather than throttle his own kid. He eventually blows out a breath and backs a few steps away to the side of the room, eyes looking at his son.
“Logan, you’re thinking with your dick. Again. It isn’t happening. Get out of my sight before I strap your damn hide,” he mutters. “If your mother knew what you were thinking it would kill her. Grow up and find some damn fortitude or I’ll beat it into you.”
Quinn looks across at the drinks cabinet, dismissing any retaliation. I watch his body vibrate, tension ramping up the violent agenda despite his age. Logan eventually storms past me out of the room rather than push his luck any further. I don’t miss the damned aggressive glare sent my way either. My hands find my pockets as I stare after him, and then I spin slowly for Quinn.
“You wanna run that by me again?”
“What?” he snaps, walking towards the liquor.
He grabs a glass and fills it with whiskey, throwing it down his neck quicker than I can blink.
“Taking Vico’s daughter to Miami? I thought I was supposed to be taking Logan.”
“Change of plans.”
“And you think me taking Sofia Vico to her own father’s deal is a sensible suggestion?”
“It’s not a suggestion, and right now, I don’t care. Leave her in the hotel while you do it. Whatever. Just get her the fuck away from Logan. Little shit’s acting like Romeo hoping he can get in her panties.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Quinn.”
He puts the tumbler down and refills it, the bottleneck clinking against the glass as his hand shakes.
“For a start, they're cousins. Not even Logan would be so stupid. And secondly, why would you send her with me to something like this?”
“Because I trust you. He's still too busy being an eighteen-year-old to think straight. You remember it, don't you? Nice ass? Pretty lips? We all think with our dicks at that age. He's not doing shit with my niece.” He drinks again and heads over to a chair, eyes directed out into the garden. “And because she wants to learn about the business. Apart from her dragging on my ass, there’s no one else. Besides, you've got more patience than me. Always have had.”
“Nate?” I start running through all the other options.
“He goes to Puerto Rico tonight. Vacation?”
Fuck, yeah. Forgot about that.
“Come on, Quinn. Think sensibly. She’d be safer here with you. What makes you think I wouldn’t be as interested?”
The fucking speed of the glare that comes at me makes me shiver. Enough so that my feet back up another step. He’s only ever hit me once. It put me on the floor and about knocked me out. His finger goes up, mouth a tight line of hatred.
“Don’t even think about letting that out of your mouth, Carter. You take her. Keep her safe. Show her some of the fucking thrill she’s after that only involves business, and then you bring her home so I can pack her back off to Daddy. You hearing me?”
I nod, unable to go against what he decides even if it is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. And I’m fucked if I’m going anywhere near Vico’s daughter, anyway. What fool would? No matter how cute she is. I was only trying to impress on him the stupidity of the whole damn idea. “No booze either,” he finishes, tipping some more of the whiskey down his neck. “None. I want her back here in one piece, a smile on her face because she thinks she’s learned something, and happy to go home after Uncle Quinn’s helped her out. Alright?”
“Alright.”
That’s all I’ve got, and without me blowing up into a rage myself there’s nothing else I can say to change his mind. I hardly ever blow up into rages anymore. If I do, it’s to protect this house and the people in it. Nothing else.
“Go tell her to get packed,” he says, staring out to the pool house. “She’s swimming.”
“What?”
“Might as well start talking to her now. She's into chemistry. Ivy League shit. Clever. Never know, you might learn something. It's a long journey if you don’t speak, so get moving and keep it clean.”
Fuck.
I spin out of the room and head to the pool house, part annoyed with myself for not telling him to go screw himself. Stupid damn plan. And now what? I’ve got to talk to her about life and all that comes with it? Business is one thing. I can manage that, but babysitting Logan through life is bad enough. Doing it for a woman who happens to be sexy as fuck was not on my agenda for today. Still, it’s not like I’m gonna act on the thoughts my dick is having. For a start, stupid. And secondly, if Vico ever found out he’d kill me, probably after Quinn cut my dick clean off.
My fingers snatch a croissant from the kitchen as I go through it, and I chomp on it until I hit the back access to the pool. Jesus. Of all the stupid ass ideas. This has to be the dumbest goddamned plan I have ever heard of.
The heat of the room hits me the second I step through the door, chlorine filtering into my nose. I look down through the changing space, searching for her without looking too hard.
“Sofia?” I call. Nothing.
She’s nowhere to be seen so I turn back around and walk towards the actual pool. The light blue water offers me nothing but a few ripples either. The hell is she? Perhaps she’s already left. I go to leave, walking back into the changing space, then hear a small splash. My feet halt, and I hover in the shadows to look back.
Fuck.
That is not fair on a man’s dick at all.
I creep back further into the dark as her head and shoulders break through the surface of the water, watching her hands slicking back her hair as she begins to climb the wide, white steps out of the pool. It’s fucking obscene. Tight everything, including the thighs I refuse to look at. My eyes drift over her top half, tongue running over my lips because of the dark blue scrap of material masquerading as a bikini. Droplets cascade down her bronzed skin, rivulets of water running to places I shouldn’t damn well be looking at.
My dick wakes up at the same time as my heart rate, making me look straight at firm, pert breasts and nipples on display beneath the thin material. The vision forces my gaze lower, too low, watching the water as it grazes across her toned stomach. Bikini line. Hips. It's cover model territory. Damn near pornographic. And my mind starts running a million ideas that consume any rational thoughts I should be hanging onto.
I hitch my dick and back the hell away to leave before I do anything more stupid than I already am doing, shaking my head at myself, and then I remember that I’ve got to speak to her about Miami.
Shit.
What did Quinn say about fortitude? I need some of that. I knock my head with my hand, attempting to rid my thoughts of the corruption I’m imagining. Vico’s daughter. Twenty at the most. Too young. Still, my dick likes the thought. I look at it, a small chuckle leaving me. I’m a sick man.
And a dead one if I keep thinkin
g like this.
Although, I’m only thinking. Can’t stop a guy thinking when someone that appealing is right in front of him. She is fine as fuck. Her face was hard enough to avoid looking at in the office. Having all her skin on display for me, wet and making me think of heated nights and sweat is unreasonable for any sensible thought.
“Hey?”
Jesus, was that her?
I turn in the shadows and reach for a robe, hoping she’ll put it on, so I don’t have to try to keep my eyes on her face. “Robe,” I state, holding it out for her.
She looks at the ground and hovers, her fingers reaching for it. “Thank you.”
I nod and emerge into the light, looking out into the garden rather than chancing looking at her again.
“Quinn wants you to come to Miami with me. You need to pack.”
“He does? Why?”
“Business.”
That’s all I’ve got. I don’t want a discussion at the moment. My dick’s still being difficult. She smells like a treat I can’t refuse. And the thought of ripping that robe from her skin and devouring every inch of her is too tempting to contend with. I start to walk off through the pool house into the garden, then remember she needs to know when we leave. “Be ready at ten in the morning. I’ll drive us to the plane. We’ll be gone a couple of days at most.”
Done. No other conversation necessary. I’ll go back to my place. Probably jack off. And then wrap my hands because I need to beat the crap out of something to stop my thoughts from running away.
Good plan.
Easy.
“Carter?” Fuck me that sounded good. Crystal clear, sweet as fuck the way she draws out the C at the start.
I don’t stop, though. Not even when I hear her squealing for some reason. I keep moving until I hit the gravel over to my house, sweeping the jacket from my shoulders and tugging at my tie. I’m hot. Fucking summer heat. And I’m dizzy. Perhaps I just need food. When did I last inject? This morning. Food? Croissant. Ten minutes ago.
Forbidden Eyes: A Cane Novel 4 Page 5
