11. Denver
Chapter 11
Denver
A sequence of thumps wakes me. I squint, one leg dangling off the sofa, the other inexplicably over the back of it. How did I sleep in this position?
The thumping is coming from Wesson’s tail. From where I lie, I can see him staring at the closed ensuite door, tongue out, tail smacking against the floor in a rhythm. The shower water stops running, and Wesson stands, wiggling his hips.
The ensuite door opens and as steam billows out, I brace myself for Ranger in a towel.
He’s always been god-like, with his voice, power, and strength. And then there’s his body: solid muscle, golden skin, and a dusting of dark hair across a broad, powerful chest.
The first day I met him, I’d stared in bewilderment that men like him even existed. His presence and voice curled around me instantly, luring me into a den of wolves, a willing and stupid sacrifice. The screams in the night shattered the handsome, white-knight illusion, and blood-covered clothes only emphasized the truth: He was just like my dad but, somehow, worse.
My dad hadn’t been terrible—to me. He’d loved me without question and acted the same as any other parent. Stern, overbearing, protective. We had dinner together almost every night. He took an interest in my schooling and the few friends I had and even danced like a dad. He’d forced me to cha-cha with him in the sitting room before prom, and it was mortifying but also one of my favorite memories.
I knew beneath the surface who he was. I saw it in the wide eyes of my classmates and then my colleagues when I started working as a paralegal. I was Nico DeLuca’s daughter, and I wasn’t to be crossed.
And then a car accident stole him from me.
There had been people at the funeral I didn’t know. Kind words I didn’t care about. And then a will. The final letter from my father told me he was proud, he loved me, and I’d never want for anything, but until I found my feet, I was to stay with Ranger Luxe.
Ranger had been the elusive business partner I never asked about. Why would I? I didn’t care about my dad’s work and had no interest in the long and tedious meetings he had in his office. And while I hadn’t exactly been in need when my dad had died, I had been something else—lonely.
So, the funeral ended, and I’d called a number left with my dad’s things. A man called Cal answered and told me the address. I packed a bag, took a taxi, and on a warm summer evening, in a funeral dress with dried tears on my face, I met Ranger Luxe.
And nothing was ever the same.
I’d expected a man in his sixties, but Ranger was thirty-one when I walked into his house. When my dad met him, Ranger was a sixteen-year-old new father fighting for money and stealing for anything else. He’d raised Ranger as a protégé, a man to take over, and that’s precisely what Ranger did. Every DeLuca business, both legitimate and otherwise, became his.
And so did I.
The spark between Ranger and I was quickly a fire. We argued almost constantly about his rules—no strangers at the house, not that I had many friends to begin with, no late-night drinking, no trips without twenty-four hours’ notice, no trips anywhere without security or him.
Soon, I realized it had nothing to do with being protective and everything to do with me. Ranger wanted me. And that meant no one else could have me.
It went on for years, his quiet ownership that suffocated and excited me. To have the attention of a man so powerful was a rush, but one I wouldn’t allow myself to experience fully. I didn’t want to be stuck with a dangerous man like my mom had been.
So, when Ranger hired Wyatt, I set my sights on him—a man who knew my world and wouldn’t run from it but could be convinced to escape with me. We kept our relationship a secret for months, and when I eventually told Ranger I was pregnant and Wyatt was the father, all hell broke loose.
It was the first time I’d seen Ranger hurt. He’d stared at me from across his office, eyes wild, hands clenched into fists. The crackle between us that had always existed exploded.
He’d kissed me. He’d kissed me and said nothing, and when I kissed him back, he took me to bed.
I’m not proud of it, but I saw it as a goodbye. I’d given him what he wanted, and I could walk away. It worked. He didn’t stop me from being with Wyatt or us marrying a month later.
Maybe that was our mistake.
Wesson hops onto the bed, tail wagging enthusiastically. Ranger pulls on a shirt and scratches the dog behind the ears.
“Staring is rude.”
His voice warms me, and I sigh. “I’m making sure you don’t eat my dog.”
“Please, I prefer the dog to you. He’s obedient.”
I huff in response. Dragging myself up from the sofa bed, I flick on the coffee machine. Warm prickles climb down my spine, and steady footsteps follow the rich tones of his voice.
“You didn’t have to sleep on the couch.”
I focus on retrieving two coffee cups from the cabinet. “I’m a married woman, remember?” I wiggle my wedding finger at him.
I inhale sharply when his next words are uttered against my shoulder.
“Widow,” he corrects. His presence pushes into me, the warmth of his body, the smell of his cologne—just knowing he’s here thrusts heat into the coldest parts of my heart. I grip the mug, my eyes flutter closed, and I pray. For what, I’m not sure. “No coffee for me, little bird. I have to get back.”
He moves away, and I exhale quietly. “So soon?”
“Cal swept the hotel, and I spoke to Richmond.”
Anger sweeps over me at the mention of Richmond. I take out my anger on the cutlery drawer, slamming it closed after I pick out a spoon. “You mean the prick that was following me?”
“He’s here to keep you safe.”
I whirl and slap the curve of the spoon into my palm. “Great job he’s doing. Maybe give him a raise. I only almost got shot.”
“He paid the price for that.” Ranger pulls on his suit jacket. “Count his fingers next time you see him.”
My toes clench. “Are you kidding?”
“I never kid. Not when it comes to your safety.” I listen as he collects his things from the bedroom, only lifting my head when he touches my cheek.
He brushes my hair back, the darkness of his eyes brightening, the dark brown now visible around his pupil. His gaze drifts across my face, and he runs his thumb across my bottom lip.
Why can’t he look at me like this all the time? Why can’t the light take over the dark, and then maybe, maybe, I could envision a life with him?
“I spoke to Ethan,” he says, and a chill spreads across my neck. “Get your fill of vanilla sex and try to convince yourself he’s enough. But the moment you step foot on that plane, you’re mine. Any move your little vet makes after that means I will treat him as I would any other enemy. And I’ll make you watch. Am I clear?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
He kisses me softly. “I lost you to Wyatt. I won’t lose you to Ethan.”
He leaves, the door clicking closed behind him.