10. Overwhelmed
ten
Overwhelmed
Grace didn’t know if she’d ever been more comfortable. They were basically cuddling on the chaise part of the sofa in his less formal sitting room, and he was holding her so tightly against his side that she was probably as much on top of him as she was on the sofa itself. His arm was stretched down and around her back, his fingers rubbing slowly and almost absently over her hip as he finished up a call to Dante.
She let her mind wander, just for a moment, as she breathed him in. Her body was sore but too relaxed to care. Romeo had taken her into the shower with him after blowing her back out on the bed, then proceeded to wring one more toe-curling orgasm from her under the multi-angled spray. It was ridiculous the way he commanded her body, considering he’d never touched her before the previous night.
Then again, she supposed she had been single-mindedly lusting after him for a while. Maybe she’d brainwashed herself. Is that possible?
“Appreciate it, brother,” Romeo said. His arm lowered and he set the phone onto the side table next to the chaise. “Dr. Miles’s reservation is all taken care of.”
Grace felt her face heat all over again. She really could not believe she’d done that, or even agreed to the motivation behind it. But she couldn’t work herself up to being irritated about it, either. “I think we should talk about some things,” she said softly. Her own fingers were playing over the subtle indents in his designer button-up. “Before we get interrupted, or distracted, again.”
Romeo chuckled. “Just having you in my arms like this is a fucking distraction.” He reached over and caught her hand, lifting her knuckles to his lips. “But we do have things to talk about.”
She smiled, her heart fluttering at the gentle kisses he gave and the tender way he was touching her. She almost didn’t want to do what she’d suggested, because she knew where she needed to start. “I know people say things … in the heat of the moment.” She didn’t even want to ask, but she had to.
“Nope.”
Her intended words tangled on her tongue, her mouth hanging open. “Huh?”
Romeo lowered her hand back to his chest, holding tighter as he curled his fingers around hers. “You don’t have to ask me that. I absolutely fucking meant it. You’re mine, and I am not letting you go. I already told you that.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs. “That seems like a big commitment to make, so fast. That’s all.” She heard how weak her words were and she knew why. The rational side of her insisted it wasn’t this easy, that it wasn’t this perfect, but it was what she wanted. So the idea of arguing against it hurt.
“Just because you’ve only been aware of my interest in you for about a day doesn’t mean that’s how long it’s been there,” Romeo said. He stroked his thumb over her knuckles.
Grace tipped her head up so she could see his face without prying herself off him. She stared into his eyes for a long moment, and smiled. “Me, too.”
His grip of her tightened, the blue in his eyes warming the way she was coming to learn meant his desire had spiked, and he rumbled deep in his chest. “What’s your favorite flower?”
The question threw her completely for a loop. “I beg your pardon?”
“Favorite flower. You don’t strike me as a rose-for-every-occasion kind of woman.” He paused. “It’s a family thing, apparently.”
Amusement trickled through her and Grace stretched her fingers in an attempt to catch his. “Amaryllis,” she said. “Not that I dislike roses, but I do think they’re a little cliché.” She grinned. “Are you going to start calling me that now?” She knew Dante sometimes called Iris ‘snapdragon’, and she couldn’t think of what else Romeo could possibly mean. Unless he was merely thinking about using his sister-in-law’s new flower shop to acquire some for her.
Romeo chuckled. “You’ll have to wait and see, angel.”
She bit back her laughter. “Man of mystery now, are you?”
“Always have been. I just did it so well, you never even knew.” He said it with a wide, dimply grin she could not be blamed for getting mushy over.
It made it harder to ask the other questions she’d nearly forgotten she needed answers to. The questions that could yet prove to be where the imperfection in this moment reared its ugly head. But she had to know. She had to have a line.
The amusement disappeared from his tone, and his expression, when he spoke again. “I know you want to ask a bunch of questions about what we do,” he said, voice serious but quieter than before. “And I will answer anything you need to know. But I’m asking you, Grace, don’t lump us in with old Hollywood mobsters. We could spend days going over the ins and outs of what the family does and doesn’t do, or you could give us a chance and see for yourself.” He held her somehow tighter, his fingers digging into her hip. “Let me give you what you want.”
That was cheating. She knew it, and still she couldn’t resist it.
Grace opened her mouth, intent on asking at least one question, and his phone rang.
Romeo cursed under his breath, easing his grip enough to shift his weight and snatch the device from the side table. In two movements of his thumb he’d connected the call. “Talk to me.”
There was a brief pause before an unfamiliar male voice spoke, and Grace realized Romeo had put the call on speaker. “This is Miguel,” the caller said. “Your brother said to call.”
Romeo arched a brow. “Miguel, huh? Mikey’s got you working in the big office now, right? Lucky kid. What’s he need?”
“Oh yeah, real lucky,” Miguel said, the sarcasm nearly tangible. “I been staring at computer screens so long my eyes are blurry, man.” Miguel took a breath. “I’m callin’ ‘cause we found that woman’s car.”
Grace felt her brow furrow as she thought back to the woman who’d egged Romeo’s console that morning.
“Be more specific,” Romeo said.
“Right, sorry, forgot you’re having lady problems.” There was definitely a grin in Miguel’s voice, and Grace couldn’t help but wonder if he was an idiot or if the relationship between the De Salvos and their ‘men’ was actually so casual. It was hard to imagine, considering what she knew of Dante as an employer.
Romeo grunted. “And I’m starting to forget how Cris talked me into hiring you in the first place. Get to it, kid.”
As Romeo was speaking, Grace felt her phone buzz. It only buzzed once, which meant it was probably a text message, and since Romeo was preoccupied for the moment anyway, she opted to see what it was. If it was an email or social media notification, she’d just dismiss it.
In the background, she heard Miguel chuckle as if he were enjoying needling Romeo. “The rental car for that lady who dumped eggs all over your property,” he said. “One of the scouts found it abandoned and on the outskirts of town.”
Grace frowned at the thought that whoever that woman was, she was smart enough to know she’d needed to get away from that car quickly. Then she pulled up her text app and her frown deepened.
De Salvo, Dante: Something’s come up. Need you in the office immediately.
“What the fuck do you mean there’s a note ?” Romeo demanded, the harsh tone of his voice drawing Grace out of her startled haze. She’d completely tuned out Miguel’s words as panicked scenarios of why she would possibly be called in had raced through her mind.
“Kinda what it sounds like,” Miguel replied. “Whoever this chick is, she doesn’t like you, man. Or she likes you in a real scary way. One of the two. But Mikey said you might want to come take a look, see if anything at the scene is familiar before it gets gone.”
Grace tucked her phone away and adjusted, feeling a little sad and a little irritated, but nonetheless recognizing that the world wasn’t going to wait. She pushed up and pressed her lips to Romeo’s cheek before whispering in his ear, “It’s okay.”
He blew out a breath. “Yeah, fine, text me the location. I’ll make my way there.” Then he disconnected and dropped the phone, shifting his focus to her. “Kicking me out, huh?”
She smiled and kissed him briefly, because she wanted to and because she knew her next words would only add to his agitation. “I actually got called in. Something serious must have happened.”
“You what?” His brows disappeared beneath the messy sweep of his bangs. “He promised—”
“It’s fine,” she said, squirming out of his hold while she could. “There’s a chance I won’t even have to work the whole rest of the day. It could be a quick fix.” She knew the chance was small, but technically, it was there. So she smoothed her hands down her shirt. “I’m not even going to change, and they’ll have to deal with me in improper footwear.”
Romeo snorted. “Angel, you’re wearing Ralph Lauren. No one’s going to care that it isn’t a suit.”
“Speaking of which…” She offered him her sweetest smile. “It’s still cold outside. Do you have a coat I can borrow?” She owed Felicity a lot for having a selection of her own clothes to wear, but that selection included only one pair of two-inch heels and no winter coat. She didn’t want to think about how or why a winter coat could have been forgotten in the coldest damn month of the year.
Romeo pushed to his feet with a sigh. “Of course I do. Let’s get you buttoned up and find you a driver.”
“I don’t need a driver.” She did need a car, though. And even if she assumed he’d lend her one, since he had at least three, she wasn’t so rude as to not ask.
She’d barely drawn breath to make the request before Romeo said, “The hell you don’t.” He turned, the entryway ahead of them but still out of reach, and pulled her into his chest. “This is something you have to get used to, Grace. You go out, someone else does the driving. Someone walks in your shadow, or a step ahead, depending on circumstances. The point is that you’re protected , because you coming home safe fucking matters to me and I have the manpower to do something about it.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. “Text me when you’re in the building and again when you’re heading out, I’ll do my best to be home by then.”
She rested her fingers on his chest. “I still think you’re overreacting,” she said softly. “But I can do that much.”
He only grunted before guiding her to the entry closet and withdrawing a warm-looking coat for her. While she stuffed herself into it, he pulled out his phone and typed out a quick text. Then he grabbed his own coat and they both stepped into their shoes—hers having been moved to the closet when they returned downstairs earlier.
Romeo held open the door for her, the blue of his eyes seeming brighter than usual. “No matter how many layers you pile on, I only ever want to peel them away again.”
Grace flushed, her body heating. She needed to keep her layers on for a few hours and let her body rest after all the ways he’d plundered it not half an hour before. Maybe getting called in to work was a good thing.
He led her outside, down the front steps, where his usual Navigator was idling. Behind that was a second, equally black but slightly smaller in profile, Lincoln Aviator. Mo stood next to a man Grace didn’t recognize, the pair of them buttoned into slimmer coats and waiting quietly, effectively between the vehicles.
Romeo motioned them forward and indicated the unfamiliar man, who looked to be similar to their own age. “Grace, this is Al. He’s going to be your driver and bodyguard for now. If he gives you trouble, let me know and I’ll replace him.” His voice hardened. “Al, you take her wherever she needs to go and you bring her back home to me. She is not to get a single fucking scratch on her, or I will make you wish it was my brother doling out the punishment. Is that clear?”
Al nodded sharply. “Yes, sir.”
Grace had so many questions. But this wasn’t the time, apparently.
Romeo tipped her chin up and stole one more kiss, clearly giving no fucks about their audience. “If you need anything,” he murmured against her lips, “just call me.”
She smiled. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home.” The words fell off her tongue before she could even question them, and by the time she was buckled into the backseat of the Aviator, her mind was racing. She’d spent half a night in Romeo’s massive home. She couldn’t possibly feel such a strong emotional attachment to the place already.
She watched through the window as his Navigator followed the faintly curved drive out and away from the property just ahead of them. No, it wasn’t the house or the larger, gated property on which it sat. It was the man, and the sense of warmth, comfort, and safety he provided her. Still, it’s so fast.
“Where to, ma’am?” Al asked as they eased past the gate.
Grace drew a breath. “DSI, please.” Everything was happening so fast. She could feel her chest constricting as her mind tumbled through the blissfully fantastic, sometimes terrifying highlights. It hadn’t yet been twelve hours since she’d laid eyes on her first-ever dead body and now she was talking about marriage and starting a family. That couldn’t be healthy. Her throat constricted. She needed something else to focus on. “It’s Al, right?”
Her driver cut a quick glance to her through the rearview mirror before returning his focus to the road, having slipped into traffic while her mind had been spiraling. “Alfonso Adimari III,” he replied, “but I prefer Al.”
Wow. That was the kind of name that could leave an impact, but he just went by Al and was simply driving people around. “Is your family local?” She didn’t need to know, but then again, she would prefer not to feel like she was strangers with the man who might be responsible for her safety when she went out without Romeo.
Al chuckled as he accelerated onto the interstate. “Yes and no,” he said. “My nonno ’s full-blooded Italian, but he lived in New York for about fifteen years. Long time ago. So when my old man turned eighteen, he moved out this way to follow in his father’s footsteps, except my old man went and found a pretty American girl and decided to stay.” He chuckled again. “They moved outta New York after they got married, and my old man found work with the De Salvo family shortly after I was born.”
Grace’s jaw dropped. She didn’t know why she hadn’t considered that the mafia legacy she had only just learned about went so far back. It makes sense, really. For all the wealth and manpower they seemed to have, at least.
She was so distracted she almost didn’t notice the SUV slowing down. A quick glance out her window confirmed what she was sure she knew—they were still on the interstate and definitely nowhere near DS Industries. “Al?”
“Please stay in your seat, ma’am,” he said, the joviality gone from his tone. It looked like he was gripping the steering wheel too tightly.
She leaned to the side so she could see around the empty passenger seat and out the windshield, and her eyes widened. There was a vehicle slightly ahead of them, in the other lane, but the reason the SUV had stopped had nothing to do with that vehicle. There was a massive crowd of people standing across the road, stretching from one end to the other. “Some kind of protest?”
Al brought the SUV to a complete stop. “Looks that way. I think I even see coolers. They’re here for the long haul.”
Grace slumped against the seat in exasperation. She did not have time for this. And they weren’t even waving signs or something. What good was their so-called protest? Her gaze shifted back out the side window. Something bad enough to call her in had popped up at work, and now she might not even make it. This has to be a sign… Her gaze landed a glimmer of hope. A small off-ramp that, while not leading directly where she needed, would land them on a side-street that would later connect to a main road. “Al, can you get to the ramp? Let’s just go the long way.”
He made a sound of hesitation. “That route’s not approved…”
Grace heaved a sigh. “I can’t imagine Romeo would prefer you leave us sitting in traffic, at the front of a line of protestors who couldn’t be bothered to label themselves, where we can easily get pinned down.” She twisted in her seat enough to look behind them. Traffic was oddly light, making her wonder if word had spread about the protest and they’d missed it. “We should move while we can.”
He tapped the steering wheel. “Yeah, okay.” A moment later the SUV was backing up, Grace thought she saw one of the protestors wave an angry fist in their direction, and Al was swinging around. It wasn’t the proper angle to catch the ramp, but without other traffic, it was doable. And as long as no one got hurt, who cared?
Grace breathed a sigh of relief as they glided down the off-ramp seconds later, quickly putting the random crowd behind her. “Thank you, Al.”
“I apologize for my hesitation, ma’am.”
“None necessary. I’m sure you have rules you’re supposed to adhere to.” She actually had no idea what those might be, but apparently, they included pre-approved routes.
He didn’t respond and they fell into comfortable silence, allowing her time to appreciate the quieter, less-traveled side road. It was a little curvy, but that only made it feel like a scenic detour, and her gaze drifted out to the skyline. Already she could see the towering downtown skyscrapers looming ahead. She thought perhaps she should take this kind of route more often, for its peacefulness.
“What the—” Al suddenly threw the SUV into a sharp sideways motion and shouted at her. “Head down!”
Grace jerked against her seat, caught completely off-guard, and before she could process his words or question his actions everything exploded into a sea of glass and screaming noise.
I’m coming for what’s mine
Romeo waved the single piece of paper, now partially crumpled, in the face of the on-site team leader. “This is why I had to rush down here? Five fucking words Mikey could have read to me over the goddamn phone?” He was pissed. He was pissed at the inconvenience, he was pissed at the continuing mystery, and he was incredibly pissed at Dante. They were going to have words, probably loud ones, and he no longer cared.
All they had asked for was one fucking day. Grace wanted one goddamn day to recover from the trauma of having her life turned upside down, and instead he’d yanked her back to work not twelve hours later.
The man in front of him shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “I—we— It seemed important.”
Romeo swept his arm toward the wreckage of the rental car behind them. “It’s a fucking rental car. Mikey already has all the video and digital copies of every single paper attached to it. You have eyes . If we knew who owned that stupid damn wig, we’d have put out the word. But all the bitch left in that car was her disguise.” He could hear his voice going up, he could see the men around them staring uncomfortably, but he didn’t care. “What’s so damn important about that shit? When did I become a goddamn detective who goes around scrutinizing crashed cars? You know what I can tell you? I can tell you what you can see for your-fucking-selves. There’s no blood. The damn driver’s side door was popped open, and the car’s still in neutral. Clearly someone thought rolling it into that tree would make it look worse than it is. You didn’t need me for that!”
“N-no, sir,” the man in front of him said. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Rome!” Mo grabbed hold of his nearest shoulder with more urgency than Romeo’s raving mouth really called for.
Romeo sucked in a breath and took a single step away from the guy he wasn’t truly mad at. Mostly. He grunted. “We’re done here, let’s just—”
“No,” Mo said, talking over him. Which was unusual. “I just got word. The Aviator’s signal just went offline.”
Romeo’s blood went cold. Slowly, as if he had to remember how, Romeo turned. “What?”
Mo released him. “Looks like they took a detour, we don’t know why, and then…” He shook his head. “The car’s gone.”
Nausea rolled through him and the world spun backwards. Romeo didn’t stop to breathe. He didn’t give a flying shit about some abandoned rental car. “Pack it in and follow me!” he shouted, already sprinting for his own SUV. He’d drive himself if Mo lagged behind.
Mo never lagged behind. “Sir, it could be dangerous, you should—”
“I love you like my own brothers,” Romeo said, taking hold of the nearest door handle, “but I will shoot you where you stand if you finish that sentence.” He threw himself into the SUV and buckled in as Mo leapt into the driver’s seat. “Take me to her.”
It wasn’t that Mo was wrong. It was that Romeo couldn’t just sit back and leave such an important task to someone else. Whatever had happened, he needed to see it for himself. Even if it destroyed him.
He fished his phone from his pocket. There was someone else who needed to get their ass on-scene, too, because if she was hurt in any way, it was his fucking fault.
“Didn’t expect to hear from you again today,” Dante said after the first ring. His voice was far too casual and his statement far too moronic.
Romeo grit his teeth. “You gave me your fucking word, brother. And then you went and called Grace into the office anyway, and—”
“Watch the way you speak to me,” Dante said sharply. “I did give you my word, and I haven’t broken it.”
“Bullshit! I was with her when that text came in.” Romeo dragged in a breath, intending to tell him the more important part, when the obvious answer struck. He swung his free fist sideways into the window, the bullet-proof glass holding steady against his temper. “ Goddammit . Your number’s been fucking cloned.”
Dante was silent for several seconds, and his voice dark when he spoke again. “Then we have a problem.”
“No,” Romeo said, “we have multiple. The car Grace was in went off-route, then offline. I’m headed there now.”
“I’ll meet you there. Try to keep your head.”