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Authors: C.C. Gibbs

Tags: #Fiction / Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction / Romance - Erotica, #Fiction / Erotica

BOOK: All He Needs (All or Nothing)
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TWENTY-FOUR

D
ominic’s private plane landed in London Saturday afternoon at five.

Kate had received a text with the address of the sublet apartment the day before. Justin had offered to meet her there and give her a tour; he was waiting when they reached the flat. Along with Max.

Justin introduced himself to Kate and Dominic and while he showed Kate the flat, Dominic and Max quickly reviewed their plans for Tuesday and arranged to meet at the airport Monday afternoon. Then Max left and Dominic caught up with Justin and Kate in the sleek, stainless-steel kitchen.

“Nice,” Dominic said. “I like it.”

“It’s intimidating for a noncook,” Kate said, viewing the handle-less cabinets that soared up to the high ceiling, the large brilliant blue Aga stove, and the even larger refrigerator. The three sinks and sizable wine cooler. “But I’ll manage. There’s always takeout and pizza.”

“Why not let Sese take charge?” Dominic suggested. “You won’t even have to come into the kitchen. And with your punishing work schedule I doubt you’ll have time.” Dominic turned to Justin. “Katherine has a work ethic on steroids. CX Capital is lucky to have her.”

“So I’ve heard,” Justin replied with a well-mannered smile. “We’re looking forward to her help.”

Dominic glanced at Sese, who’d come in behind him. “What do you think, baby? Care to see if Sese can help you out? At least until you get settled in. Your first week or so at work could be hectic.”

“I don’t know.” She hesitated. “Would I be imposing? Sese probably has better things to do.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Dominic smiled. “Although keep in mind Sese cooks for a living.”

“Divinely as a matter of fact.” Kate smiled at the huge mountain of a man standing beside Dominic. Their meals on the plane had been crazy good. “Would you mind helping me out, Sese? It wouldn’t be for long. Just until my schedule—I don’t know—falls into place.”

Sese dipped his head. “No problem.”

“Okay.” Kate took a small breath. It was her first experience with something so grand as a live-in cook. “I don’t have a clue how this works.”

“Don’t worry about it.” A flashing smile. “I’ve been doing this a while.”

“Great.” She exhaled. “And I can pay for this,” she added, turning to Dominic. “So don’t even think about it.”

“Perfect. It’s settled, then.” He glanced at Sese. “Here’s your new domain. Starting Monday.” Dominic shot a look at Justin. “Is there a cafeteria in the headquarters building or does Sese have to bring in food when Katherine’s working late?”

“People generally go out to eat.”

Dominic put his arm around Kate and pulled her close. “Sese will see that you have food. Sometimes you forget to eat when you’re working. Now, do you have any questions for Justin?”

“How far is the office?”

“My driver will drive you,” Dominic said before Justin could answer.

“He doesn’t have to.”

“Nonsense, that’s his job. We’ll let him know when to pick you up in the morning and you can call him when you want to be driven home. At least until you get the hang of things,” he added smoothly, rather than
You can’t go out of the flat without a guard
. “Sese, why don’t you get some idea of what Katherine wants you to shop for and I’ll see Justin out.” Brushing Kate’s cheek with a kiss, he moved away and smiled at Justin. “Thanks for coming over.”

As the two men walked from the kitchen, Justin drolly said under his breath, “Is she legal?”

Kate wore sneakers, slouch pants, and a long-sleeved T-shirt, her hair unruly as usual, her green gaze luminous; the image of naïf vivid.

“Fuck you,” Dominic said, grinning.

“Just asking. She looks fifteen and virtuous.”

“Then I’ll expect you to protect her from the big bad wolves at CX Capital.”

“Jesus, that’ll be a full-time job. She’s gorgeous. Seriously, how the hell old is she?”

“Twenty-two.”

“And she’s keeping up with you?”

Dominic gave Justin a hard stare. “That’s none of your business or anyone else’s. Clear?”

Justin put up his hands. “Sorry.”

Dominic smiled. “No problem.”

Shortly after, Justin was pouring himself a drink at
home and answering his wife’s questions about Dominic’s
new friend.
“I think Katherine Hart is more than a piece of ass for him. More than a five-mil flat. Maybe even more than Dominic knows himself. I made the mistake of kidding him about his sex life with her and he bit my head off.”

“My, my.” Amanda looked up from her chair by the fire, Adam asleep in her arms, and smiled knowingly. “Dominic’s protecting her. How lovely, and completely out of character for him.” She lifted one brow. “A wedding perhaps?”

“Don’t get carried away,” Justin cautioned, dropping into a chair opposite his wife. “I’m not sure Dominic’s the marrying kind.”

“Julia managed.”

“Exactly.
Managed
is the word. I think that’s why he agreed to marry her. He didn’t mind that she arranged his adventures. She didn’t manage anything else.”

“Just so long as you don’t mind me managing your entire life,” Amanda purred, blowing Justin a kiss.

“Hey, that’s what I signed up for.” He grinned. “Do your best.”

Which was exactly what Dominic had in mind as well.

With only two nights and a day before he had to leave for Rome, he wanted to make his time with Katherine the very best he could.

Which meant minimum interruptions—no staff, complete privacy.

The moment Sese left, Kate had slipped her arms around Dominic’s waist and whispered, “Thank you. I just want to be with you. Just us.” She cast a swift glance around the kitchen. “I can probably cook something for you.”

Dominic laughed. “You cook like I do—which is inedible. I’ll have something brought from my house. It’s only a few blocks away. Decide what you want.”

“Besides you?”

“You got me, baby. That decision’s been made. And you know what? My chef can cook us whatever later. Food isn’t high on my list right now. You without clothes is on my list. You without clothes in a bed somewhere—” He looked up. “Where’s the bedroom?”

She grinned. “Which one?”

“We have a choice? Maybe both. Maybe I’ll chase you all over the flat and fuck you in every room. What do you think of that?”

“You say the nicest things,” she purred.

“And you’re the reason, baby. You’re my happiness and contentment, my reminder that life’s beautiful, my everything. Oh, God, baby, don’t cry.” He gently pulled her close, held her against the warmth of his body. “Everything’s going to be good from now on. I promise.”

“You’re not going to be gone long, are you? Lie if necessary. I miss you already.”

He lightly thumbed away the tears on her cheeks. “A few days, that’s all,” he said softly. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She sniffed, swallowed, and tried to smile. “Promise?”

“Yes, promise,” he whispered and brought his mouth to hers.

TWENTY-FIVE

D
ominic spent the flight to Rome in his office on the plane and when he came out prior to landing, he handed Max a sealed letter addressed to Kate. “If things go wrong,” he said, “and I don’t make it out of the restaurant. If they use some spy equivalent bullshit that goes on in that part of the world—poison, radioactive isotopes, double cross or triple cross, whatever—make sure Gora doesn’t walk out alive. Then give the letter to Katherine.”

“Don’t worry,” Max said. “You’re going to be well covered.”

Dominic put up his hand. “If I’m dead, I want him dead. Got it?”

“That goes without saying.”

Dominic nodded. “Good. I think I’m more use to them alive but God only knows. I thought we’d paid Gora enough to keep the Bucharest factory clean and you saw how that went. Everyone’s fucking greedy. As if you don’t know that. Now give me the lay of the land on the meeting site.”

“The restaurant will be closed. We’ll search the premises thoroughly before you go in. Then it’s just you and Gora. We have snipers on their snipers. We have men on their foot soldiers and enough arms and ammo at your hotel here to start World War Three. The police won’t become involved. Alessandro’s taken care of it. We found Gora’s jailbait last
night at a convent up in the hills and have her under surveillance. We saw her only once, the walls are high. But she can’t come out without us knowing. And worse comes to worse, I suppose we could blast our way in. Although the political scandal might be…” He trailed off and shrugged. “Well, that’s your call. Since Gora doesn’t give a shit about his wife, we have only a couple men on her. She’s on vacation in Istanbul. And last, I expect Gora has a price you can afford.”

“If not for Katherine, I’d agree. But he knows how much she’s worth to me. He lost eight men in Singapore. I’m sure his price has gone up exponentially. And to be perfectly honest, I can’t walk away like I might have in the past and tell him to do his best or go fuck himself. Not with Katherine in the picture. It changes everything.”

“We can protect her.”

“No, we can’t,” Dominic said. “Not completely. Not unless we scare the shit out of her—which isn’t an option. And not when she’s working in some goddamn office building with thousands of people coming and going.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Don’t have one other than the usual pile of money that buys off most anything in the world. I’ll wait for Gora to make his move. I’ll make mine. We’ll see where it goes.”

“At least you’ve done business with Gora before.”

Dominic smiled. “And by that you mean I’ve paid him beaucoup extortion money to keep my factory open.”

Max shrugged. Both men knew the price of doing business in the lawless regions of the world.

Dominic sighed. “You’re right though. Gora’s been
dependable. He kept all the small fry scumbags off our backs. And I expect he didn’t have much choice when his in-laws put the squeeze on him to steal another twenty million. He likes to live too. Probably even more now with his new little teenage lay.” Dominic flicked a finger at the plane door being opened by a flight attendant and smiled. “Ready to rock? Let’s go see if we can nail down this deal.”

The restaurant was across the street from the Pantheon, the view splendid, the two-thousand-year-old building a thing of beauty, still flawless and sublime. It almost made Dominic turn to Gora and say, “This is really petty shit we’re dealing with. Why don’t we just put our dicks on the table, see whose is bigger, and be done with it?” But Gora was sitting across from him, dressed by Rome’s best tailor, giving him his badass
I’m top dog
look, which didn’t portend well.

“So what can I do for you, Gora?” Dominic said, speaking Italian, their common language, settling back in his chair, and thinking he’d dressed down for this party in jeans and a T-shirt. Although the knife blade in the sole of his red sneaker would get him out the door faster than any Savile Row suit. Not to mention, Gora was a lightweight by Balkan standards where no-neck enforcers were standard. His neck wouldn’t be hard to crush.

“I need compensation for eight men.”

“You shouldn’t have sent them. You stole my money. I took it back.”

Gora gave him an oily smile and spread his hands palms down on the table. “If it were only me, Dominic, we might be able to come to an agreement. But the organization doesn’t like to lose money.”

“Then your wife’s family should prey on people who don’t fight back. They fucked up. What can I say.”

“Your girlfriend is in London I see.”

He wasn’t wasting any time. Just as well.
“Yes. For six months.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“I’m not surprised. So let me make myself perfectly clear. I don’t want Katherine involved in any of your money problems. So count your fucking blessings. I’ll buy my way out instead. How much do you want to make this go away?”

“I don’t want money. I need you to marry my girlfriend.” Gora quickly put up his hand as Dominic began rising. “Temporarily. She’s six months’ pregnant and she comes from an old, conservative family who insists she marry well before the child is born.”

Dominic sat back down. “And you’re afraid of your wife.”

“Like you, Dominic, this young woman is important to me,” Gora said, ignoring Dominic’s comment. “So you see we both face a dilemma.”

“You don’t come back with the money? How do you explain that to your wife’s organization?”

Gora shrugged. “I have enough to cover the shortfall.” He smiled. “My business is lucrative too.”

“I wish I could help you, Gora,” Dominic said, “but I’m not interested in marrying the sixteen-year-old you’ve been fucking the last three years. Don’t look so surprised. Why wouldn’t I keep track of you? I’m almost tempted to show the video I have to your wife, but then you’d be dead and who would I deal with then?” A certain level of corruption
was inevitable in doing business in the Balkans. That Gora had been useful when Dominic set up his factory in Bucharest was the trade-off.

“I could have you killed instead,” Gora said coolly. “How would Miss Katherine Hart feel about that?”

“She did fine before me,” Dominic said calmly. “She’ll do fine after me. I don’t kid myself that I’m indispensable to anyone. That’s always a mistake, Gora. To think it matters whether we live or die. The world will survive without either one of us. So don’t threaten me. I don’t much give a shit. Just like I don’t give a shit whether you live or die.”

“Let me show you something.” Gora pulled out his cell phone, tapped an icon, and handed the phone to Dominic.

The screen held a single photo taken with a night-vision camera. The picture had been taken from a higher sight line—across the street, Dominic noted. Katherine was in her bedroom, seated at the vanity, brushing her hair. Dominic handed it back. “Do I threaten your girlfriend now?”

“If you could get at her.”

“I know where she is. She’s under surveillance. Your move.”

“Take a look.” Gora tapped his cell phone again. “This one was taken ten minutes ago, just for you.” He reached out and showed the photo to Dominic. Katherine was talking to a colleague in the office. “My cousin is a mail boy at CX Capital.” Gora smiled. “It’s a brand-new job. Probably temporary, but he likes it. All kinds of pretty girls, he says.”

Dominic sat silent for a few moments, then looked at Gora with an empty, dispassionate expression. “Let me tell
you a little story, Gora. When I was young my mother sent me to psychiatrists because she thought I wanted to kill her.”

“Did you?”

“Why would I tell you what I never told any of the psychiatrists?”

“Is she still alive?”

“This isn’t about my mother, Gora. One of the psychiatrists was a pedophile. So I anonymously notified the authorities of his illegal activities like any good citizen would. I told them where his files were. I told them where his photo collection was. I sent them a sample because the stupid shit showed me all that like I’d be interested. You get my drift, Gora? I wasn’t quite ten and I’d already learned that you do whatever it takes. Always. Period. So if you harm a hair on Katherine’s head, if you even frighten her, if one of your idiots shows himself and frightens her. Okay? Is that clear? I’ll take you down, I’ll take your wife’s family down, I’ll do it from the fucking grave. And before you get all blustery on me, your security’s not the best. I can get to your little girlfriend. You fucking hurt Katherine and I’ll do it. Bianca—right? I’ll strangle her with my bare hands. Still want me to marry her?”

Gora gave him a considering look, breathed in and out, choosing his words. “I thought we were going to make a deal.”

Dominic said with mild annoyance, “I thought the deal was money. Mine to you. If you need a bridegroom, add the price of some gigolo to stand at the altar with your babe. I just need a fucking number.” He tapped his phone in his
shirt pocket. “The money will be in your account in five minutes.”

Gora hurt people for a living, but he still looked like a skinny accountant in an expensive suit that didn’t quite fit him right. And his face had lost some of its badass arrogance now that he was trying to save the deal he needed to please the babe he didn’t have sense enough to put on the pill. Although, Dominic thought, after his out-of-control week with Katherine in Hong Kong, he was the last person to talk about sensible birth control. “Look, Gora, I’m as interested in a deal as you are. Only it’s gotta be money. And I’m probably going to be sorry I said this, but name your price. Let’s get this done.”

Gora slowly shook his head. “You know I can promise not to hurt Katherine. My word is good. I’m sure you also know that my Bianca comes from an aristocratic family. So I need you, Dominic, as much as you need me. I play chess too. I know you’re protecting your queen.” He sighed. “So that said, I need your status, your wealth. Just anyone won’t do for her husband. That’s why I have men watching your girlfriend. It’s the only leverage I have. And I’m not asking you to do this for long. You can have any prenup you want. I don’t want your money. After three months, the child is born with a good name; you get a divorce.” He smiled faintly. “We know it’s a boy. My wife only gave me girls.”

Dominic prided himself on his deal making but he was starting to get a bad feeling about this one. Like maybe he was going to get burned. He’d had those feelings before and always walked away. But he couldn’t this time. Not with Katherine’s life on the line. Not when Gora knew he
wouldn’t allow her to be hurt. “Jesus, Gora, I expected this to be survivable. Marriage? Christ. Can’t you find someone else to take your place as the bridegroom?”

“With the people I know?” Gora shrugged. “Not possible.”

Dominic suddenly stood, walked behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of brandy, cracked the seal, poured a slug down his throat, then stood there for a few moments, running all the possibilities through his mind like a Vegas bookie, processing information, calculating tactics and constraints, determining objectives. Gora’s people were dumb but they swung a lot of weight. Especially with the factory in Bucharest. Especially in sheer firepower. He
could
maintain a chain reaction of Mexican standoffs: first him, then Gora, then him, threats on top of threats to infinity—all while trying to keep Katherine blissfully unaware and out of danger. But juggling all of these retaliatory balls in the air was going to be a nightmare.

A part of his brain was telling him this might be a good time for a break. He could make a one-stop solution, solve all the myriad problems with a single, unemotional fix. Placate all parties involved and keep Katherine safe. Sometimes taking the weaker side of a deal in chess, taking a tactical loss for a greater strategic gain, was a useful move. A good chess player instinctively knew that.

And he’d always been a numbers guy. Numbers before emotions. That’s how he’d made it to where he was. And recently emotion had been reconfiguring his algorithms and fucking with his head.

Maybe he should just put everything on hold. Give
things a chance to calm down. See if he really wanted what he thought he wanted. Focus on the strategic whole rather than the individual parts. Three months wasn’t so long.

It was a decision made by a man who had come to view life as explicitly calculable.

Or at least he had until recently.

Dominic turned and walked back. “I have one stipulation,” he said, sitting down, putting the bottle on the table and cradling it with his hands. “I’ll do my time for you, but Katherine sure as hell won’t be. I don’t want any misunderstandings. Once the lawyers draw up the papers, Katherine is clear. Completely clear. I’m not leaving London until your hit squad is gone. This is nonnegotiable. You want something. I want something. We’re even.”

“I’m still eating your twenty million.”

“Shut the fuck up, Gora. Quit while you’re fucking ahead.”

It was agreed. While Dominic drank half the bottle, their lawyers made plans to meet at Dominic’s hotel in Rome later that day to draw up the prenup and the preliminary divorce papers. The usual license formalities would be expedited so the marriage could be performed by the end of the week.

Dominic came to his feet. “When I have proof your men are gone, that Katherine is safe, I’ll fly back to Rome.
Ciao
, motherfucker.”

When Dominic slid into the backseat of his car a few minutes later, he banged on the privacy glass, then held out his hand to Max. “I’ll take that letter back.”

“Things went well then?”

“Not exactly.” As the car pulled away, Dominic folded the letter and slid it into his back pocket. “Give me a minute and I’ll tell you. Right now I’m trying to keep from putting my fist through the window.”

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