Chapter 13
“Where should I put my things?” Kiera asked after walking through my front door.
Both her hands were wrapped tight around the tattered fabric straps of her worn duffel bag as she awkwardly looked down the hallway toward the guest bedrooms.
“Let me.” Walking up behind her, I took the bag and started toward the bedroom.
Mybedroom.
“Oh…uh…” Her footsteps followed after me, quick and light against the hardwood floors. “I thought I’d be staying in one of the other rooms.”
I tossed her bag onto the center of my bed and turned around to face her. “Why would you think that?”
“I’m not sure,” she hemmed from just outside the doorway. “It just seems like a waste to have three extra bedrooms but never use them.”
“I didn’t buy this place for floor plan,” he said. “I wanted it for its view, and there was no way to get that without the extra square footage.”
Her eyes narrowed, her head tilting just enough to show she didn’t quite believe me. “I might not know much about Manhattan real estate,” she said. “But I’m pretty sure Central Park views aren’t hard to come by in this neighborhood.”
“This one is.” I waved her closer. “Come here, and I’ll show you.”
She hesitated for only a second before moving through the doorway. I led her over to the corner window. Then, standing behind her, I pointed down to a spot just inside the park across the street—a small patch of grass barely visible in the center of a circle of black cherry trees.
“Back when both my parents were alive, my dad took my mom and me on trips to the park twice a month. That right there was my mother’s favorite picnic spot. On a sunny day, we’d stay for hours. Mom would read, and Dad and I would find sticks and pretend to be sword-fighting pirates.” I let out a long breath. “Those were the happiest days of my life.”
I watched Kiera’s reflection in the window smile and nod as if she understood. “How old were you back then?”
“Five or six,” I said. “Mom died of cancer when I was seven, so it couldn’t have been later than that.”
She craned her head back and over her shoulder to look up at me. Genuine sympathy shone in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. That had to be hard. Especially when you lost your dad a few years after.”
“It’s why I had to have this apartment in particular. It’s the only one with a perfect view of that spot,” I explained. “I would have paid any price to look out and be reminded of them every day.”
I’d never told that story to anyone before. Not even Gabriel and Matteo. It was too personal, too close to my heart—a place I didn’t let anyone near.
But for some reason, sharing it with Kiera felt right.
And it must have been the right choice because she seemed a lot less nervous and anxious when she turned around and asked, “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying in here with you? I know we’ve…been intimate, but I don’t want to make any assumptions and invade your privacy.”
“I want you with me.” There was no other answer.
Her cheeks began to flush with color. “Well, thank you for letting me stay here while things cool down. If I can ever pay you back, I promise I will.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I told her. “That’s not what this is.”
I could tell by the way she bit her lower lip that she had more questions to ask, but she held her tongue. Instead, after an awkward second, she glanced over her shoulder toward the bathroom.
“Is it okay if I use your shower?”
“Of course,” I said, taking a step back. “Toss me your clothes when you take them off, and I’ll throw them in the washer.”
“Thank you.”
She moved past me toward the bathroom, looking back to shoot me a smile before disappearing inside. A minute later, the door opened just a crack, and a small pile of clothes slid out. After a few seconds, I heard the water turn on.
I did my best not to imagine what was happening on the other side of the door—how her naked body was stepping beneath a downpour of warm water—but there was no stopping the images from filling my mind. All I could see was the steam caressing her bare skin, her leaning back to let the water soak her hair, the little rivulets streaming over the curves of her breasts, down to her waist, and over her hips.
My cock instantly stirred.
But thoughts like that would have to wait. I needed to take care of some business first.
First I called Jane and had her fire Rose for taking daring to talk shit about Kiera.
Then I dialed Gabriel. Just like Matteo, he never left me waiting long for him to answer and picked up right away.
“Talk to me, brother.”
“What have you heard about Carlo Costa recently?”
“Mario’s shitbag cousin?” Mario being the current boss of the Costa family. “Nothing—wait, that’s not totally true. Now that I think about it, I heard some rumblings he’s been acting weird the last week. Gimme a second—“ There was a rustle on the other end as Gabriel pulled the phone away from his mouth. “Hey, Tony! Come here,” he shouted.
A few seconds later, another voice came over the line. “What is it, boss?”
“Didn’t I overhear you talking to Luca about Carlo Costa yesterday?”
“Yeah. People are saying some chick kicked his ass, and he didn’t take it so well,” the guy laughed. “Apparently, he’s sent his men out on the streets to find her. Meanwhile, he’s been licking his wounds by nailing girls in the strip clubs.”
“You know which clubs?” Gabriel asked.
“Not off the top of my head,” Tony said. “But I can ask around if you want, boss.”
“Thanks, Tony. Let me know what you find.” There was a slight pause before Gabriel spoke again. “You get all that, Dorian?”
“Every word,” I said. “You’ll let me know what you find out?”
“Of course,” Gabriel said before adding. “You going to tell me what this is about.”
Only what I had to. Right now, protecting Kiera was my main concern, not just physically but her privacy as well.
“He messed with something that belongs to me.”
Gabriel drew in a sharp breath. “That was stupid of him.”
Indeed, it was. But the less said about that, the better. I quickly changed the subject.
“I’ve got another favor to ask,” I said, walking over to pick up Kiera’s laundry.
“Anything.”
“I need a few clothes delivered.”
“I thought you always went to that tailor over on Lexington,” Gabriel said.
“It’s not for me. They’re for a lady.”
“A lady?” Gabriel’s laugh sounded astonished. “I am talking to my brother Dorian, right? The guy who’s never spent more than an hour with the same woman.”
I swallowed down a growl at his teasing. “I can always call Matteo and ask for his help instead if you want to be an ass.”
“You don’t want to do that,” Gabriel insisted. “We both know I have better taste when it comes to women than Matteo.”
That was debatable. “Can you help me out or not?”
“Of course I can,” he answered. “What kind of clothes are you talking about.”
“The basics,” I said. “A nice selection of dresses. Pants. Shirts. Shoes. All the underthings.”
“That’s not ‘a few clothes.’ That’s a whole damn wardrobe? Who is this chick?”
“Don’t call her a chick.”
“Sorry,” Gabriel said, quickly dropping the teasing tone. “Whoever this lady is, she must be someone special.”
“She is,” I said, looking at the closed bathroom door. “I’d pick things out myself, but I’ve never had to shop for a woman. I’m worried I’d mess it up.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a private shopper over in SoHo who does this kind of thing for me all the time. Just text the lady’s sizes and coloring, and the shopper will do the rest.”
“Thank you, brother,” I said.
“No problem.” He paused for a second before adding, “Just out of curiosity though, this lady and that thing of yours that Carlo Costa messed with, they wouldn’t happen to be one and the same, would they?”
I let my silence answer for me.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Gabriel said with a sigh. “That poor, poor son-of-a-bitch.”
“Goodbye, Gabriel.”
Once I ended the call, I quickly went through the tags in Kiera’s clothes and texted Gabriel the sizes. Then I tossed them all in the trash. Worn and tattered clothes weren’t good enough for her. She deserved only the best.
Turning around, I looked over at the bathroom door.
I could hear the water still running. She was clearly taking her time in there, enjoying the experience. Or maybe…
Maybe she was waiting for company.
I tossed the phone on the bed, then kicked off my shoes, pulling my shirt over my head as I walked to the door.
If she wanted privacy, she would have locked the door.
I tested the knob, and the hinges effortlessly swung open. A wave of steam rolled through the crack.
And I peeled off the rest of my clothes before stepping inside.