“I hate him,” she said on a breath.
“He’s a crazy fuck.”
“No, not him. My father. I hate him.”
His chest rattled with a strange pain. Her words broke his heart. And before he stopped himself to analyze exactly how much it bothered him to see her cry, he gathered her into his arms. At first, she stiffened as if to protest, but within seconds she let out a deep sigh and relaxed against him. Arms wrapped around her, he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Home.
Her body yielded under his hands and he resisted the urge to explore her curves. God help him, he’d already memorized her shape but he wanted to learn it anew. He spread his fingers, loving the roundness of her hips and soft dip at her waist. She dressed like the girl-next-door, but he realized he’d gladly spend a great deal of money to dress her in a flowing gown or silky lingerie, something to compliment her offbeat beauty. She deserved it.
“I hate him so much,” she whispered against his collarbone.
Her words brought him out of his reverie. That was it. “Kate, you’re staying at Vice. I’ll put you up in a suite there.”
“Vice?” She pushed away, horrified. “I can’t stay there!”
He wanted to shake her and hug her at the same time. He settled for putting his hands on her shoulders so she had to look him in the eyes. “Look, I know how you feel about my casinos, but there you’ll have my security keeping an eye out for you. You’d be safer there than to stay here and take your chances with Scarface.”
“If I stayed at Vice, I’d be a total hypocrite. How can you suggest it?”
He let out a sigh. “Just think of it as a fancy hotel. I know it’s not ideal, but we are very good at being discreet. You’d be safe there, and you’ll have everything you’d need. I can arrange a car to take you to your meetings or wherever you need to go.” He smiled. “And you already know my security team. Some of them are pretty fond of you.”
She held his gaze, ignoring the joke, shaking her head. “Why would you help me. I mean, after the way you left…after what I said earlier?”
“I know what you meant, and I can’t blame you for saying it. And I’m helping you because you listened to me when I needed it. And, although I hate to admit it, you gave me some good advice about Michelle. I don’t know if I’m ready to call off Nando Perreira, but you’ve helped me…reconsider the situation.” He wet his lips, remembering how easily her knees had buckled. She’d been so responsive to him. He’d seen the beauty of her orgasm, needed to see it and inspire it again. He gave her shoulder another slow squeeze, almost a sensual rub, and smiled, wanting to lighten the mood for her. “Now do you need help packing a bag? Because I’d be happy to rifle through your panty drawer and make some selections.”
What is wrong with you? She was attacked. Put your dick away. He waited for her to belt him for his bad timing.
Her good eye widened and her eyebrow arched with amusement. “I think I can manage, thanks.” She ran a hand over her head. “I still don’t know about taking this…this little mini-break at your casino.”
“This isn’t a mini-break. Think of it as a safe house. Someone hurt you. I’m just putting you up for a few nights, not asking you to job shadow the blackjack dealers.”
“I can find a motel.”
His face scrunched up. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Well, I’ll pay my way. Every cent. It’ll take me the next ten years but….”
Liam rolled his eyes. “Sure, whatever. Now while you get ready, I’ll call the hotel to make arrangements.” He shooed her into the bedroom. “Go on. Go choose your panties. My favorite color is blue.”
Seriously, dude. Again? Why couldn’t he stop flirting with her?
Again, he waited for her to slug him, but for the second time she didn’t. Instead, she scooted to the bedroom, trying to hide the smile on her face. A smile. And he’d put it there with inappropriate flirting. Damn. Seeing that Cheshire cat grin on her face was a thrill he couldn’t ignore.
She stopped at the bedroom door and looked back at him. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
“Don’t be melodramatic. It’s a hotel, not a trip on the Titanic. No one needs to know. After a few nights, the cops will locate Vaughan and you’ll be safe. And then your life can go back to normal.”
She frowned, as if unsure of what “normal” meant any more. Hell, he wasn’t sure either.
Kate walked into her new room, the suite in Vice that was destined to be her home for a couple of nights. Hopefully it wouldn’t take longer than that for the police to find her attacker. Dismissing the shiver of fear that coursed through her at the thought, she looked around the suite.
It was unlike any place she’d ever lived. Thanks to her father’s issues, the family living arrangements had always been modest at best. Penthouse 5D at Vice possessed a sophisticated opulence she’d only glimpsed at in style magazines. No wonder Liam’s clients seemed happy to while away their days at his lavish establishment. It would be difficult to leave such glamor.
Almost everything in the unit was silver or black, with splashes of scarlet here and there. Against a backdrop of white walls gleamed stainless appliances. Streamlined black leather couches seemed an extension of the dark hardwood floors. And around the rooms, beautifully-coordinated red cushions, flowers and prints offered a hint of sumptuous color.
No velvet paintings of Elvis in this joint.
“I’ll put your bags in the bedroom,” said Liam hoisting them through yet another designer-styled portal. She knew he employed bellhops, but Liam had insisted on carrying her things himself and hadn’t let her lift a finger since they left her apartment.
It felt good, she couldn’t deny it.
He dropped her bags onto a fluffy, crimson confection she assumed to be a bed. At least, she thought it was one, even though it was larger and more luxurious than any she’d ever slept in. Suddenly, her basic Malm from Ikea didn’t seem all that cozy.
Liam turned, smiling, hands on hips as if he’d built the room himself last night. “Well? Do you like the place?”
“What’s not to like? It looks as if it should come with its own masseuse and sommelier.”
“Actually, I do have staff who…”
“Liam, why have you put me in this room? You know I can’t afford this. I’d be comfortable with something more low-rent.” She ran a finger along the pristine surface of a cherry wood dresser, and then considered the dust on her furniture at home.
“Just enjoy it.”
“I hope you didn’t have to bump one of your VIP’s for me. This looks like a love den for heads of state and their mistresses.”
“You really don’t know how to accept a gift, do you?” He shook his head at her snarky humor but his eyes gleamed with appreciation at the same time. “Just smile and say ‘thank you.’”
“But…”
“Kate.” His hands clenched in a way that made her want to experience his tight grip again and again.
“Thank you,” she said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “I promise not to touch anything breakable.”
Liam moved about the bedroom area, muttering something about making sure the room was set up as he’d requested. She’d heard him order all kinds of extras over the phone, ones she could never hope to afford: free movies on demand, large toiletry bottles instead of those puny sample sizes, and a full-sized fridge stocked with everything from vintage wines to exotic fruits she’d only ever glimpsed at the market. For all she knew, he might have tucked a Lamborghini under the bed.
She touched the soft duvet cover, checked out the label and gasped at the astronomical thread count. “This is too much.”
He walked over and pried the duvet edge out of her fingers. “You’ve had a shitty time. Just relax for a few days. Is it such a sin?”
“Ha. That could be the new slogan for Vice.”