The Salvation of Vengeance (Wanted Men #2) (30 page)

Soon
, he thought, picturing Nollan. Soon she’d be safe from the bastard and things could go back to the way they should be.

CHAPTER 18

The feel of the bony little puppy in her arms, combined with Vincente’s awful story, was making it difficult for Nika not to bawl all over him like an idiot. Cruelty. She just didn’t understand it. And from his own father.
Grr!
She suddenly had the urge to smother both males in the room with so much love they’d be begging to get away from her.

She ran her hand over Charlie’s filthy coat, feeling Vincente’s eyes on her like a heated caress. Why wouldn’t he stop looking at her? It was unnerving. Was he thinking about their kiss? God, that kiss. Or, kiss
es
. She shifted to hide the shiver that feathered over her. She already wanted more. Was being pulled into him and didn’t know how to stop it. She was finding she didn’t
want
to stop it. She’d spent only a fraction of a “normal” evening in his company and she was now craving another. A longer one. That would turn into an all-nighter.

Wow.
She’d known he was dangerous to her peace of mind, but this was crazy.

“Is Charlie mine?” she asked, finally voicing the question that kept popping into her head. If she couldn’t have one, she at least wanted to make sure she had the other. “I mean, I know you’re busy. Would you have enough time to spend with him? Because I’d take very good care of—”

“Red.”

She tried to seem unaffected when she looked up, that gentle voice of his melting her insides. She quelled the panic she felt at the thought of handing her little bundle of bones over to anyone. “Yes?”

“The dog is yours, babe. All yours.”

Okay.
Now she had the urge to kiss him again. She had to stop that. Emotion jammed in her throat even as heat flowed through her body. The man had no idea what he’d given her in the form of this mistreated little animal. She swallowed and nodded because she couldn’t do much else.

“It’s ready.” He stepped to the side, and she moved in to slowly immerse her dirty little baby in the warm water. Charlie’s tongue came out instantly to start lapping up mouthfuls, making her laugh as she watched him through blurry eyes.

“Palm up.”

She glanced to the side at the rasped order to see Vincente holding the bottle of soap, waiting for her hand. She obediently placed her palm up, and he squeezed a small amount into it. “Thank you.”

For the next few minutes, Nika washed every trace of dirt from her new pet’s body, even going so far as to clean between his webbed, hairy toes. The sweet little animal played with her the entire time. She prattled on to Vincente, telling him about each of the three dogs she and Caleb had growing up.

“How old do you think he is?” she asked worriedly, studying Charlie. “He still has baby wrinkles.”

“Don’t know.” Vincente put his huge hand on the puppy’s head, making it disappear behind it. When his thick thumb slowly brushed some suds away from a baleful little black eye, Nika sucked in a quick breath—which was of course filled with the scent of leather and sandalwood. She hooked her hands under Charlie’s front paws and lifted him to the counter beside the sink while Vincente drained the water.

“Do you think he’s hungry right now? What should we feed him? I don’t think lasagna would be healthy, and it’s still cooking.” She worried her bottom lip. “He can’t be thirsty anymore. Not after he drank most of the water. Oh. I hope the soap he ingested won’t make him sick. I’ll bet he’s going to have to go for one mean—”

“Nika.”

Her head stayed down. She couldn’t handle it when he said her name. “Hmm?”

“Please relax, babe.” Charlie gave a plaintive whine as he stilled and looked up at her, as if he were seconding Vincente’s suggestion. “See?” he chuckled. “I think you’re freaking him out.”

Up her gaze went. Did he have any idea how engaging he looked when he smiled? Did he allow others to see this side of him? She thought not. Everyone, her brother included, talked about Vincente as though he were the boogeyman. The Reaper, they called him. There was no way they’d think that if they saw him like this. She wanted to bury herself in the warm, solid comfort that she knew him to be. It didn’t matter that he’d shut her down just that morning. She was beginning to think he might have his own reasons for that. What they were, she wasn’t quite sure yet. Maybe he was also attempting to protect himself, as she was. After all, he’d lost two women that had held places in his heart. His mother and sister. Why would he volunteer to lose another—not that Nika thought she was dear to him—at the hands of a crazed husband out to kill his wife?

Or maybe it was all wishful thinking on her part. Regardless, she wanted to hold him, be held by him. She wanted to laugh with him, see him laugh, cry with him, be still and serious with him.

She thought Kevin had destroyed her, but the truth was, her husband didn’t have anywhere near the power over her that Vincente did. Her pulse popped in an erratic rhythm at the realization. No matter her warnings to herself, she was slowly falling for this intimidating mobster.

How could she live the life of freedom she wanted—beholden to no man, legally, physically, or emotionally—when she wanted Vincente the way she did?

“Aw, fuck, babe. Don’t look afraid. We got this for you.”

His breathy words flowed over her lips as his head came down. He thought she was thinking about Kevin. She wasn’t. She was more afraid of what
he
could do to her than what her husband could. His lips brushed over hers, and, despite her thoughts, she responded. She just couldn’t help it.

But at the first expert roll of his tongue around hers, her chance at pleasure was stolen by the scrape of sharp little nails on the countertop, followed by a muted thump and a high-pitched yelp. She jerked back with a gasp as her malnourished puppy hit the floor.

“Oh no!” She shoved at Vincente and dove for her pet, terrified he’d broken a leg in his leap to freedom. She missed him by a mile as he spun his wheels to get away.
No broken limbs there.
She scrambled after him, coming to her feet at the door, and got stuck for a second as Vincente tried to give chase at the same time.

“Vincente! God, could you be any bigger.” She gritted her teeth around the grin he aimed down at her. She finally popped free of him, shooting out the door as if she’d been launched from a slingshot. “He’s getting the floors all wet.”

A low laugh followed her down the hallway. “So what? It’s just water. I’m more concerned with him tumbling down the stairs to land in a mushy heap in Maks’s basement.”

“Oh, God!” She quickened her pace, following the sounds of scraping toenails on the marble tile. “Charlie!” she whispered loudly, ultraconscious that it was the middle of the night and the house was full of sleeping people.

She flew out of the corridor, and there Speedy Gonzales sat, in the middle of the huge well-lit foyer, his tiny tail whipping back and forth, looking to all the world as if he was smiling at her. She skidded to a halt, only to have Vincente’s heavy frame smack dead into her back, nearly knocking her onto her face. His hands gripped her hips to catch and steady her, almost giving her heart failure when he squeezed.

“Don’t slip on the water,” he warned.

She shook her head. “Charlie, come here, baby,” she cajoled in a soft voice. She stepped forward and crouched down to break that electric connection running from Vincente’s long fingers straight to her core. “Come on.”

Tiny front puppy paws spread out on the tile as her naughty pet stuck his butt up, crouching to play.

“I’ll close the door,” she heard Vincente say as he moved left to where she could see the first step into darkness through one of the opened panels to the double doors that led downstairs.

She straightened and inched forward, not wanting to startle the pup into running, and couldn’t help but smile as he feigned right and then left, his tail whipping like a wiper blade.

“Come here, silly. Before you hurt—”

He suddenly took off, in the exact direction they didn’t want him to go. Heading straight for the basement door!

“Vincente!” she whispered and shrieked at the same time.

But he’d already seen and was on it. Or would have been if things had gone their way. Instead, Nika watched his big black boot hit a small puddle. His thick arms went out, tattoos blurring as his feet came up, and a solid boom sounded when he landed flat on his back. Hard. Really. Freaking.
Hard.

Sympathy air whooshed from Nika’s lungs as she flew over to him. She reached out and swung the door closed and saw Charlie out of the corner of her eye as he cowered behind a huge potted plant.

“Oh, my God.” She fell to her knees and lifted Vincente’s head, panicking when she saw him give an extended, slow blink, as if he were just waking up. He wasn’t breathing! “Vincente,” she snapped, not caring how loud she might be now. “Stop that! Take a breath! Please! Omigod, omigod.”

His fingers wrapped around her wrist and squeezed as he shook his head at her, his mouth working soundlessly.

“Why aren’t you breathing?” she screeched as she yanked him into a sit. He must have helped because there was no way she’d have been able to handle his weight herself. “Please, Vincente. Breathe for me, ’kay? Come on.” She rubbed what she hoped was a soothing circle between his shoulder blades with a shaking hand, hoping to loosen the constriction in his chest. “Come on, baby, you can do it,” she encouraged, patting his whiskered cheek.

She heard a whistle of air make it down his throat, and she fisted his black tee in her hands, nodding quickly. “Good, boy. Very good. More, though.”

He breathed, tight and shallow. And again. And then once more.
Satisfied?
His raised eyebrow said.

She tried not to burst into tears, but she did throw her arms around his neck and bury her face in his hair. “I’m sorry. This was my fault. I should have had a better grip on him. I shouldn’t have wanted to kiss you again. You could have been badly hurt, and it would have been because of me.”

He wrapped a heavy arm around her, and she felt his chest fill with a big breath as his system clearly rebooted.

“I’m so sorry, Vincente,” she whispered, running her hand down the back of his head. Mostly to check for a bump, but also because she wanted to soothe him.

“Stop it.” He sounded grumpy. “It’s my fault for not watching where I was going when I’d just warned you about slipping.” He took another breath before continuing. “It could also be considered my fault because I brought the dog into the house in the first place. I can go on and talk about whose idea it was to give him a bath, but I think you get the point.”

Click. Click. Click. Click.

They turned to see her troublemaker crossing the floor, ears flat, bum curled under.

“Come here and apologize, you bad boy,” she scolded with little heat.

She knew she should probably move away and give Vincente his space, but she just couldn’t get the way he’d looked out of her head. What if he’d injured his back,
his spine
!

She shuddered against him and held on tighter.

Vincente held Nika in his arms; her body felt so fucking good where it rested in his lap. He wasn’t sure what had done the better job stealing his breath, his thump to the back or her concern for him. He reached out a hand and gave Charlie a rub between the ears as a thank-you for the position he’d put them in.

The front door opened.

“Well, well,” Maks drawled as he crossed the foyer. “Looks like I got home just in—Hey! Who’s this? And what smells so good?”

“Oh! The lasagna!” Sadly, Nika scrambled off him and ran to the kitchen.

He watched her go and slowly got to his feet as Maks scooped Charlie up to take a look. Maks’s dark-gray Armani was spotless, the cuffs of his white shirt still pristine. But that didn’t mean anything. He’d obviously changed before working Nollan’s buddies over.

“What’s wrong with him? Is he a stray?” Maks asked suspiciously. The expensive suit didn’t deter him from holding the wet puppy. “Looks like he hasn’t had a decent meal in weeks. Where’d you get him?”

“He was in Darren Nollan’s apartment, so you’re probably right. What did you get out of them? Where’s Caleb?”

Maks gave the dog another long look and then smiled slightly. “I took care of them for you, buddy.” He tucked Charlie under his arm and absently petted his head. “The biker went home after we finished. You sure you want me to ruin your night?”

Vincente sighed. “That bad?”

“Worse. That fucker had—”

The soft tapping of Nika’s bare feet sounded, and Maks zipped it.

“I left it on the counter to cool,” she said as she accepted a squirming Charlie from Maksim. “I should take him out for a pee.” She looked between the two of them. “Everything okay?”

He nodded and motioned her toward the front door. “Stay here,” he ordered Maks.

They took the pup out for the fastest pee on record and were back at the foot of the stairs in less than five.

“You might as well go up and get some rest,” he said, chomping at the bit to hear what Maksim had to say.

Nika nodded. She’d only taken one step up when he stipulated, “My room.”

Her head went down, and he could see the flush that hit her cheeks as she glanced at Maksim from underneath her lashes before she brought her attention to him. “There must be a spare—”