Page 19 of The Arrangement

Something struck a chord with Anton at her quiet words. “Why would you say that?”

“I didn’t,” Viviana answered, “Sam did. That’s what he told me. I just didn’t hear him like he wanted me to, I suppose. Maybe he was trying to give me fair warning.”

“Another reason for me not to feel bothered over it, then.”

“Would he have done it, though?”

“No,” he said immediately. “I wouldn’t have given him the chance. In fact, I didn’t.”

“Announcements, seating placements, flower arrangements, and all that nonsense seems really ridiculous to think about right now, given everything.”

Anton chuckled darkly. “The last day has been rough, give it some time. I want you to feel safe—that this is yours, too. Maybe find a routine for yourself if you need. There’s lots to do around here; you won’t be bored. School can happen again if you’re serious about continuing, but first I want to ensure your safety. If you want, there are two spare bedrooms down the hall. Pick one, it’s yours, and when you’re ready, you’re welcome to mine.”

Teeth cut into her lip as she considered his offer. “I liked waking up in here …” Trailing off, Viviana made a face. “I don’t think I’d like waking up to another woman in the room again, especially if that woman happens to be your mother. Boundaries, you know?”

Anton choked a little on his sudden rise of mortification at the statement.

“There’s a stairwell that connects our apartments with locks on either side. While they have their own entrance, I usually keep my lock turned off so she can come and go as she gets on quite well with Clarissa. I certainly didn’t intend to embarrass you, and she likely assumed you wouldn’t be in my bed, considering everything. Sasha knows my desire for privacy and that you’re going to need time to adjust to things, but she also takes the chance to mother me when I’m close by. I suppose she was so excited to finally see you again, my father, too, though he doesn’t leave the upstairs.”

“Stop rambling. I want to stay in here. I felt safer the moment I knew you were close, but that …” she murmured, pointing at the gun on the couch cushion, “needs to stay in the drawer or something, okay? I’ll keep sleeping in here; I bet you’ll feel better with me close, too.”

“With me,” he clarified. The husky, suggestive tone behind the words had an immediate effect on Viviana as her pupils dilated and her fingers tightened their hold on his. “Because this room is the only one besides my office and the basement that has responding motion sensors to the whole house. The others are floor by floor. I’m not sleeping on that couch for one more night, Vine; it makes my back ache.”

Throwing him a cheeky grin over her shoulder as she scooped up the clothes off the bed, Viviana said, “We’ll see how it goes.”

Anton’s face darkened, want and lust suddenly thrumming deep like the race in his pulse. Eyes narrowed, and taking a step closer to Viviana, he loved how she shivered. “I like lace, satin, and silk. Something that feels nice under my hands and I can tear right off without much trouble. Anything short enough to show those legs of yours off, and heels in every fucking color, hmm? Keep that in mind when Ivan brings over your cards and a new laptop later in the week.”

Her mouth fell slack. “But …”

“Keep it in mind,” he repeated thickly.

• • •

The kitchen looked like a hurricane had passed through. With empty meat and fresh vegetable packages strewn across the counters, pans dirtied from having been used earlier, and no one in sight, Viviana wondered where the food had gone.

Anton seemed to pick up on her confusion. “Rocco is fed a natural raw and cooked diet. He doesn’t eat kibble; it’s not as healthy. It’s a good balance, keeps him happy, his coat looking nicer, and he doesn’t eat nearly as much as a dog fed on a dry-only diet as he gets sated faster.”

“That seems like a lot of work.”

He shrugged, picking up the empty packages and opening the garbage to dispose of them. “Sure, but it’s worth the results. He’s never sick, he’s more aware, and of course the most obvious, he’s healthier.”

“He sounds spoiled,” she teased.

Dishes, pans, and utensils were tossed into a stainless steel dishwasher. She helped in silence, noticing all the shades were drawn throughout the room. With dark, cherry oak cupboards, black granite, stainless steel appliances, and grey tiled floors, the space was modern and comfortable with a table that could seat a dozen people in its high-back, leather chairs.

“Far from it,” he finally replied. Then, a quiet beep sounded from a panel on the wall above the light switch. Nodding at the panel, Anton said, “Clarissa is bringing him inside from the backyard. He’ll let her enter first, but if it were me—or you—he would make his way in ahead of us to check the space out and make sure it was empty. Always let him do that, no matter if you feel it’s ridiculous or not. That’s a part of Rocco’s job, not allowing him to do it confuses him. He’ll always alert you if it isn’t safe.”

“Does he ever … I don’t know, have time off or just a day where he gets to be a normal dog?”

Anton looked up from the paper he’d picked up from the table. “Why?”

“Well, he is a dog, Anton. He should get to act like one, I suppose. You don’t agree?”

“No, I do, but for the time being he has to be on high-alert for me. He can hear things we can’t, smell things that are long faded, or search you out in a scenario where I possibly couldn’t. When he takes his walk to the small park about a mile away, he gets some time to burn off energy, play with other dogs, or whatever else he needs to blow off steam.”

“Do you ever take him out?”

The newspaper was forgone back to the table. “Usually. Some days I can’t, though, so Clarissa or Ivan does it instead, depending on their schedule. We work it out. Rocco always gets his time for him.”