AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He took one sip from the mug before setting it down. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I agree with you. It’s the reason I’m here. To make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”
“I rarely do,” she snapped.
“Good to know. But to ensure that...” He tipped his head to the duffel bag at his feet. “Take the money.”
“I don’t want your money. I already told your goon that,” Angela reminded him. She lowered the knife but didn’t put it down, edging slowly to the counter behind her. She had a gun in the top drawer there. If she could keep him talking long enough, maybe she would have a chance to get it. “How is Luca?”
Roman’s whole face softened, and he smiled. “He’s doing okay. He woke up for real about eight hours ago. He won’t be dancing any time soon, but he’s back to his typical perky self.”
Angela was genuinely glad to hear it. “That’s good. I’m glad. Is Salvatore managing Luca’s medical needs okay?” Her hand touched the drawer, and she told herself to keep her nerve. Roman’s eyes were focused unerringly on her, like a predator. It made her tingle, but not only in fear.
“So far,” Roman answered. “He’s been changing out Luca’s fluids and giving him pain meds and antibiotics to the minute as per your schedule.” He nodded his head at her. “Thank you for taking the time to do that. It’s a very thorough list.”
She slowly opened the drawer behind her, slipping her hand inside. The feel of the cold metal made her heart pound. But this time, in relief. Her other arm stayed lax at her side, gripping the knife. “I’d hate to see my hard work go down the drain because you don’t know how to give antibiotics.”
“Luca is being treated like the treasure he is, I assure you,” Roman said. He pushed himself up, looking her over from head to toe. “What are you wearing underneath that robe?”
Angela glanced down, seeing the way the satin material clung to her curves. And curves she indeed had. She was on the taller side for a woman at five foot ten, but she wasn’t a stick. Her breasts were more than a handful, her waist was flared, and her thighs were toned but full. The robe was short, ending mid-thigh, and was open enough to show her cleavage.
It had been a spontaneous purchase years ago. One to make her feel sexy and powerful, and feminine. She had since purchased many more in various shades and styles because it had done the trick. But it was for her only. Not for the few men she brought home every so often. And certainly not for the man in front of her.
Looking up, she caught Roman biting his bottom lip, and she commanded herself to keep her shit together against the wiles of the dangerous man in front of her. “Armor plating,” she finally replied. “I’m wearing armor beneath this.”
Roman chuckled. “You’re quick.”
“And you’re not listening to me. Get out of my home, Roman. You’re not welcome. I won’t say anything to anyone. You have my word. It can’t be bought, so you’ll just have to trust me. If you can’t do that...” Angela shrugged. “I honestly don’t give a fuck.”
Roman took a step closer. “Listen here, princess—”
“Don’t call me that!” she snapped. “Never call me that!”
He eyed her for a moment, his face impassive. She held his stare, forcing herself not to shake. That particular pet name brought a slew of trauma along for the ride. As a matter of fact, her stomach swirled sickeningly just hearing it from his mouth.
Finally, Roman dipped his head. “All right. How about if I call you Angel instead?”
“How about you don’t talk to me at all,” Angela fired back. “How about that?”
He chuckled, rocking back on his heels, his hands now in his pants pockets. “You’re like a little kitten. Hissing and spitting.”
She stiffened, her mouth opening in a silent snarl. “A kitten? More like a tiger.” She gripped the butt of her gun and whipped it out. She leveled it at his heart without hesitation.
“Well, well, well,” Roman drawled. “It seems the kitten has claws.”
She tossed her knife onto the counter, gripping the Smith and Wesson revolver with both hands. She cocked the hammer. “You think I won’t?”
“Actually, I believe you will,” he commented. “I recognize that look in your eyes. I see it every day in the mirror.”
Roman moved closer; each step carried a lazy confidence, as if he was used to being on the wrong side of a gun and was bulletproof. He stopped when he was directly in front of her, staring at her with those caramel eyes of his. To her shock, her pussy clenched. She wanted him bad. It pissed her off as much as it excited her. She pressed the muzzle against his chest in warning.
“Go ahead,” Roman urged her. “Pull the trigger. Do what an entire mafia empire hasn’t been able to do. Kill me.”
She didn’t kill him.
She kissed him instead.
* * *
Shock held Roman immobile for a second before he groaned and gripped the back of Angela’s head, tilting it to his satisfaction so he could assault her mouth. She tasted just how he knew she would—like pure sin.
