Chapter 19
Kat
The house vibrated with the commotion. Woohoo, the master had returned.
Hmmph. I did not interrupt the long, slow tai chi form I was doing. I’d been at it for a couple of hours now on the secluded little side patio, just to keep from exploding.
Intense physical activity had always been my coping mechanism.
Maybe that came from having been more or less on the run since my adolescence.
I’d lived in many places after San Diego, but I always knew better than to put down roots, get attached.
Not with the Petruzzi family thirsty for my blood.
Besides, that murderous turd Tony Jr. was up for parole soon, so I had to be ready to jump in any direction when he walked.
I finished, pulling in my leg, crouching, rising up. Calmly concluding my form. Not flustered, nervous, blushing or babbling. Composed as could be. Unfazed. A force to be reckoned with. Zen goddess. That was the vibe I was going for.
It usually came to me naturally, but today, nothing could have stopped me from sneaking an anxious peek at myself in the mirror before I walked into the huge living room.
I saw Mick, Cade, and the guy they called Trey, walking down the breezeway.
Ethan followed them. I told my heart sternly not to pound, my belly not to flutter, and my thighs not to clench, but after the events of last night, that was too much to ask of my poor bewildered body. It was totally bedazzled by him.
Look at the guy. Masters in a business suit. Like an ad for formal clothing for filthy rich European men, against a backdrop of a Tuscan vineyard or a French chateau, or a Versailles-style garden. Except he looked tougher. Big boss man.
Which had never been a turn-on for me. On the contrary. Big-boss types usually repelled me, what with my troubled history with them.
He saw me through the glass as he came in, and smiled. “Good evening,” he said. “I hope you had a nice day.”
I tried not stifle it, but a snort exploded out of me anyway. “As nice as can be expected, considering I’m imprisoned.”
His eyebrow went up. “Were you not comfortable?”
I rolled my eyes. “Comfort’s not the issue, Masters, and you know it. You’re going to have to let me go. Let me assess the threat level on my own. If I decide your enemies are too much for me to deal with, I’ll leave. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“Hmm. I see. Can we discuss that and many other things over dinner?”
“Ohhh, gee, did I assail you with my complaints after a hard day of billionairing, Ethan?”
He gave me a devastating grin. “Not at all, but save it for our dinnertime banter. I just need to change. See you in the dining room. Assail me there.”
I waved him away. “Go on, then. My rage and desperation will keep.”
It was surprisingly hard to stay mad at the guy, particularly when he wined and dined and charmed me in his luxury lair. And when he touched me, well. Game over.
I spent Ethan’s primping time to organize my bullet points.
I’d gamed out this conversation all day, in all its possible permutations.
I had to persuade him to let me go of his own accord.
He was rich and powerful enough to compel me to stay, if he felt justified in doing so, which he clearly did.
He was protective and bossy. He was a big brother, and a head of family, and a head of a corporation, too, It was his instinct to keep me safe and comfortable, and available. Particularly if he was fucking me.
But I couldn’t allow it. Not the way I was wired up.
Not after what happened with my sisters and Tony Petruzzi.
If I were a normal girl with a normal past, if I’d read all the usual popular sexy romantic novels, I might even get off on being a rich man’s darling for a while.
It had its perks, right? Some parts of it looked like titillating fun.
But no one knew the dark side of that scenario like I did. I’d seen it devolve into control, abuse, violence, and seen it end in a lake of blood. Not that I was mixing Ethan up with Tony’s ilk. By no means. I could sense that Ethan was a good guy. Principled.
But still. He was also arrogant, spoiled, and used to getting his own way. The power imbalance made it unbearable for me. Which was a goddamn shame, but there it was.
I made my way slowly through the place to the dining room, where I beheld Angela’s dinner spread, which was one of the wonders of the world.
Zucchini fritters, and tempura-dipped artichoke hearts, paired with a delicious dip.
A platter of cheesy, sizzling stuffed mushrooms. A frilly green salad.
A beautiful red wine, decanted and waiting for us.
The crystal glittered, the silver gleamed, the linen glowed snow white.
There was a serving dish of plump green-colored ravioli in some kind of herb and butter emulsion.
It took my breath away, and made my stomach growl.
“Hey.” It was Ethan’s voice behind me. I turned, startled, and my eyes were ambushed by the stunning spectacle of that guy in rich-guy-casual gear.
Relaxed khaki-toned linen pants, and a soft, battered-looking ivory linen shirt that somehow managed to show off every detail of how well-made he was.
Open at the throat to show a tuft of gold skin and dark chest hair, sleeves rolled up to show those big hands, those powerful wrists and forearms, the beautiful tracery of veins and tendons in his muscular forearms.
I was staring like a ninny. Embarrassing myself. Stop it, Banner. Control.
“Will you sit down? I hope you’re hungry. Angela’s going hog-wild, with you here to impress.”
“I’m actually pretty hungry, yes,” I said. “Only because I refused to let her cook me lunch. I had that huge breakfast, see. It looks and smells great to me.”
“Good, then. You’ll have an appetite.” He pulled out my chair and made a courtly gesture. “Come sit down.”
I did so, and he sat next to me, and poured us both wine. He lifted his glass. “To a truce,” he said.
I looked at my glass, then at him. “Is this a trap?”
“You have a suspicious mind,” he remarked.
“My God, yes,” I agreed. “Let’s drink to something else, if you want to toast. No truces unless we thrash out every last detail, one at a time.”
“You should have been a lawyer.”
“Actually, I might have been wicked good at that, in another lifetime,” I agreed. “But we’re not at war. We’re just having a very lopsided disagreement.”
He passed the zucchini fritters my way. “Lopsided how?”
I dipped one into the sauce, tasted it, and almost whimpered with delight. Now he was outmaneuvering me with food, the sneaky, seductive bastard. “You have all the goddamn power, Masters,” I informed him, when I was done chewing.
“You have plenty of your own, Kat,” he said softly. “You’re pulsing with it.”
I harrumphed. “Then what am I doing in your gilded cage, buddy?”
He tilted his head to the side, silently declining to answer. “I talked to some of your friends today,” he said, in a casual tone.
That gave me a rush of panic. “What? Who? Where?”
“Joanna and Ambrose, to start with. By the way, Joanna needs a call from you. She’s afraid I’m a serial killer, though she concedes I don’t dress like a serial killer, nor do I drive a serial killer’s car. Still, you should let her know I haven’t cut you up into chunks. Put her mind at ease.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said. “I will. Who else?”
“Danica, at the martial arts school,” he said. “And Charlotte.”
I blew out a shaky breath. “Oh. Did you learn anything from poking into my life?”
“I learned they all think you’re Wonder Woman. And they’re right.”
“Oh, get out of here,” I snapped. “Are you trying to butter me up?”
His eyes gleamed. “Would it work?”
“Hell, no,” I told him. “Not after a long, dull day in my gilded cage.”
“Here, have some mushrooms.” He served me one, expertly shifting the focus of my attention away at the crucial moment. The guy was good at navigating a difficult conversation, I’d give him that.
I let the bliss of the baked mushrooms’ cheesy wonderfulness wash over me, and then had at him once again. “Tell me something, Masters. Where on earth did you run into Joanna and Ambrose both?”
He let out an audible breath, looking like he was bracing himself. “At your house.”
I put down my wineglass, and my fork. “My house,” I said. “You’re saying you went into my house. Without the benefit of a key. Or my permission.”
“Yes,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “I did. I probably would never have told you about it, given the choice, but Joanna and Ambrose busted me. I had to come clean. But I know it was wrong, and I do apologize.”
“I’m not ready to accept your apology until you tell me what the fuck you were doing there,” I said, dabbing at my mouth with a napkin. I was all done eating his food, no matter how delicious, until I knew what the hell he was up to.
“I have a confession to make,” he said.
I crossed my arms over my chest, and waited stonily. “Let’s hear it.”
“I told you about Shane, the SmokeScreen algorithm, the Ready Line massacre. What happened with my sister and her husband. You saw what happened to us yesterday. The people I’m fighting are diabolical, highly skilled, highly motivated, with a bottomless budget and no scruples. And they never give up.”
“And this pertains to me how?”
He let out a sharp sigh. “Until today, I was still unsure if maybe, you could be, well…bait. In a trap. Set for me.”
My jaw dropped. “Me? After fucking all those guys up in that elevator? Really?”
“It was improbable, yes. But so are you,” he said.
“It was just too strange that the beautiful blonde secretary would leap into action out of nowhere, and defend me like a berserker warrior. Fight at my side. Earn my gratitude, spark my lust, pique my curiosity. It’s as if, you were specifically designed to be irresistible to me. ”