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“I’m so pissed at you, Lexie. Give me a few minutes to think about it, because if you force me to give you an answer now, you won’t like it.”
The elevator doors open, and two armored SUVs pull up.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks, suspicion curling around every syllable.
“You had no problem palling around with flesh traders, but you’re concerned about where I might take you?”
“Pfft,” she scoffs.
“I’m not taking you anywhere. I have work to do here.” Serious work, and as much as I’d like to keep an eye on you myself, you’re too damn distracting. “You’re going to my apartment at Huntsman Lodge. A doctor will meet you there.”
“I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine. When I wake up tomorrow, if I’m not well, I’ll see a doctor.” She side-eyes me, lips pulled into a tight line. “But given the circumstances, I’m okay with staying in your guest room. Huntsman Lodge is more secure than my parents’ house,” she continues, “but my things are at the hotel.”
In my guest room. She couldn’t resist. “I’m going to say this once. The people you were with are part of an international trafficking ring, and your drink was spiked. You will allow a doctor to examine you. It’s a precaution,” I add, “but nonnegotiable. If you need to be sedated for that to happen, I’ll be happy to order it.” She rolls her eyes, like somehow that wounds me. “When I can spare someone, I’ll send them to get your things.”
While I’m leading her to a vehicle, the elevator dings, and the young Italian, a female guard, and Zé step out.
“Francesca,” Lexie cries softly, rushing to the kid, who can easily pass for twenty-two. Although I suspect she looks younger with the layer of face paint scrubbed off.
“You have one minute to say goodbye. I want you both off the premises before the police show up, or worse, the Portuguese Intelligence Service and Interpol. They’re each going to want statements.”
“I’m happy to give them a statement,” Lexie tosses over her shoulder.
“Neither of you are giving the authorities any statement tonight.”
They’re tired, and the authorities will twist their words in ways that suit them. I won’t allow an interview tonight, but it’s easier to have them off the premises before the authorities arrive. Getting into a pissing match with the Intelligence Service or Interpol is a last resort.
Francesca cries as she removes a gold bangle and hands it to Lexie. The two hug, and Lexie smooths hair off the girl’s face. “My father is going to kill me,” the Italian whimpers.
“Does he beat you?” Alexis asks, tipping up the girl’s chin to peer into her eyes.
She shakes her head. “He’ll take everything away, and he won’t let me see Paolo.”
I assume Paolo is her boyfriend, and she’s worried about her access to dick being restricted. Too damn bad. She was minutes away from a journey where lack of dick would never be a concern. She’s damn lucky my people were alert. I glance at Lexie. We all are.
Quietly pleading, Lexie gazes at me, her arms around Francesca. “There’s got to be another way, Rafael.”
There’s not a chance in hell that I’ll smooth things over for the principessa. She’s getting delivered straight to her father.
“Not for someone her age.”
She shoots me a poison dart and goes back to soothing the girl. “I know it’s scary, but the most important thing is that you’re safe. Your parents will feel that way, even if they’re angry. I’m sure of it. It’s going to be okay.”
I nod at the female guard, who ushers Francesca into one of the vehicles. Zé’s going along for the ride to question her, and then they’ll leave the little darling in the custody of the Italian embassy before this becomes a diplomatic nightmare. After that, we’re done. Her father can decide if and when she’s talking to the authorities, if Paolo is finished, or if she’s grounded for life. None of it’s my problem.
“Where is she being taken?” Lexie demands, as Zé slides into the car across from the principessa.
“To the Italian embassy.”
“Why are you sending Zé? Why not a more junior guard?”
If I had any sense, I’d think she’s too clever for her own good, but in truth, I admire her savvy.
I’m not sure Lexie was ever naive. She’s an only child who spent a lot of time around adults—adults involved in some shady shit. I always felt she grew up quicker than necessary. She wasn’t sheltered from the ugly part of our world the way Valentina was sheltered. It’s a shame.
I snatch her wrist and tighten my fingers so she can’t pull away. “Careful with your tone,” I warn, my mouth hovering just above her ear. “I decide which soldiers to send where. And I won’t be questioned about it, especially in public. The principessa is in good hands. You don’t need to worry about her.”
When I let go of her wrist, Lexie steps up into the vehicle, and I reach out to help her. She turns awkwardly to avoid me, and my fingers graze her breast. It’s quick and innocent, but it jolts us both. I don’t know what part of “she’s off-limits” my dick doesn’t understand.
