Page 18 of Lord of Vice
His tail wagged and he woofed with the bone in his mouth.
“Beautiful pup,” the waiter said.
“Thank you.” Every word out of my mouth was perfunctory, the voice completely unlike me.
The two men left, not even getting Kraven to sign anything. Maybe the man really did own the resort. Duh. Of course he did.
Much to my chagrin, Remington bounded on the dangerous man’s legs, his entire backside wiggling.
“Remington! Off. I’m sorry. He never does that.”
Kraven took his time stroking the pup’s head for a few seconds before whispering something I couldn’t understand. Whatever it was, Remington obeyed. I didn’t ask permission, heading to the mismatched boxes, his fluffy bed piled on top. I was stiff, every muscle more tense than before, but I was determined to make my baby’s life here comfortable even if I’d never feel that way. How could I? I’d never felt more out of place in my entire life.
I pulled out a few toys and his water bowl, not asking for permission before I headed toward the kitchen to fill it. Remington padded behind me, still crunching on the last of his treat, oblivious to the fact we weren’t in Kansas any longer. I rolled my eyes at the stupid thought, my nerves starting to get the best of me.
Even the floors in the kitchen were pricy, so much so I hesitated for a few seconds before placing the crappy looking bowl I’d found at a dollar store down on the surface. As soon as I did, my baby lapped at the cool liquid while I gripped the edge of one of the counters, trying to keep from hyperventilating.
The moment I heard a popping sound, I jumped. Fortunately, I kept another whimper locked away. He was just opening the champagne. I rubbed my baby’s back, then took deliberate steps back into the living room, but not before glancing at an open door. Leading into one of the bedrooms. I was really being allowed to stay in this fabulous place?
This isn’t a vacation, Penny.
My ugly inner voice was correct.
By the time I made it into the living room, my head was pounding.
“Come. Drink this. You need to try and relax,” he instructed.
“I don’t need to relax. I need to get my shit together.”
“Don’t fight me on everything, Penny. Believe it or not, I do want what’s best for you and at this moment, that means keeping you sequestered away and safe. Now, come and have a drink.”
He held out the single glass of champagne, his look stern. I moved closer, the tension increasing. When I accepted the glass, I tried to avoid touching him, but he refused to allow it. Once it occurred, tiny bottle rockets went off in my brain, my quickened pulse thudding in my ears.
I pulled away while he walked to a fully stocked bar, preparing himself something else. “You said you were a dancer.”
“Yes.”
“What kind of dancing?” he asked as if he was genuinely interested. “I’m not playing games here, Penny. You’re going to tell me everything I need to know.”
“Anything really. Ballet. Tap. Modern. Showgirl. Pole dancing. Hell, I took a belly dancing course as well.”
“My, it would seem you are very talented. Are you any good?”
“I like to think I am. I’ve studied since I was five. I took modern dance in college, and worked a job as a dance instructor for a studio teaching couples everything from salsa to ballroom dancing.”
“Where were you working before?”
I glanced in his direction. “Why do you need to know so much about me?”
“Because I do.”
God, the man was infuriating. He truly acted as if he owned the world. “The Italian Renaissance Resort.”
As soon as I answered him, his eyes flashed in anger. “Who fired you? Which piece of shit?”
“Why? So you can beat the man to death?” I was laughing nervously, uncertain of what else to do. By the stern look on his face, I could tell I was right.
“Penny. I don’t allow anyone to hurt what belongs to me.” The way he said my name this time was like I’d just been caught raiding the cookie jar. There he went again with owning me.