Page 46 of Lord of Vice

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Page 46 of Lord of Vice

Now I sat in the passenger seat of a convertible Italian sports car on a hot, sunny late morning, thankful my sunglasses had been in my purse. While Kraven had been right and it was steam bath weather, between the open top and the blasting air conditioning, I was almost chilly.

I found it terribly disconcerting that I continually glanced in his direction, hoping my dark shades hid the obvious lust I continued to feel. Captor. Lover. They shouldn’t be interchangeable.

With the wind, his hair was a bit unruly, which added to his sex appeal. And while he’d obviously taken a shower, his spicy aftershave something out of a fragrance commercial, he’d chosen not to shave. As with what I’d seen with all dark-haired men, his five o’clock shadow would be enough of a beard by evening that I’d want to run my fingers through it.

Too bad he was carrying a gun. Although he’d tried not to make it look obvious, I’d caught the outline when we’d walked to the car. I wasn’t certain whether to be terrified or comforted by the fact he was prepared to handle whatever came our way. I also tried to ignore the ugly visions from the night before, but it was pretty much next to impossible to get the vision of a man’s vacant eyes and the fact his head had been blown off out of my mind. Fuck.

On top of everything, my captor was acting as if this was a typical course of business. Maybe he was trying to get me to trust him. Why? So he could lock me down tight? I’d love to get my hands on a computer, spending more time looking the man up. As it was, the few minutes I’d had to glance at my phone had providedlittle more than dazzling photographs of him at various fabulous dinners and standing in front of one or other of his casinos.

I’d venture a logical guess he had a staff hiding behind paper thin walls, their only jobs to sweep the internet of bad press. That sounded like something he’d do. Either that or the fact bad boys were so hot gave him a promissory note from the local law enforcement that he could break the law whenever his little heart felt like it.

The morning sex had obviously killed several brain cells. Perfect.

At least he was damn good looking to make up for his evil behavior.

Oh, lord. I had to stop thinking this way. I hadn’t fallen into a long-term fantasy, more like a forever nightmare. I leaned back, trying to control my libido.

Remington had been positioned in the backseat, my tour guide thinking of bringing toys that included a Frisbee while I’d made certain we had copious bottles of water as well as his water bowl. As I sat back against the seat, I noticed my pup seemed to be enjoying himself, alternating between sticking his entire face out one side of the car then racing to the other.

I laughed as he woofed at someone when Kraven stopped for a traffic light, my pup more animated than usual.

“He’s never this excited,” I said as I brushed the tangled mass of hair from my face. “Then again, I haven’t really had the opportunity to take him out enough. I work all the time and when I don’t, I don’t have any money to do anything anyway, so why bother? I have gone to a couple parks but he wasn’t really interested in playing with other dogs, so we just sat on thebench, pretending we were having a good time.” Why in God’s name was I suddenly rambling?

Because I was more nervous now than I was before being in his presence. It wasn’t just that he was powerful and unforgiving. It was more that I’d allowed my guard to fall with him, our intimacy making everything that much worse.

Wasn’t having sex with someone supposed to make you feel better?

While I was busy psychoanalyzing the situation and my jitters, I had to admit that seeing the world through his eyes and all the gorgeous people had driven a stake through my otherwise tough exterior.

Plus, I’d felt even more vulnerable when it had become obvious he was staring at my cuts. Why was it that I suddenly wanted to scratch my forearms until they were bleeding?

I hadn’t realized I was popping one foot onto the floor mat until he reached over, planting his massive palm on my knee.

“Relax, sunshine. I’m not taking you to an execution. We’re going to lunch first. Then somewhere kind of special.”

“Lunch, huh? I bet you eat caviar and lobster every day of your life.”

His booming laughter took away some of the anxiety. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“I know nothing about you other than you killed a bunch of men, were treated like a pincushion, and have excellent tastes in women’s clothing.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

A man like him would.

“What about Remington? We can’t leave him in a hot car.”

He simply squeezed my leg again and it seemed even more intimate than before. He was driving through a portion of the city I’d rarely allowed myself to, typically going from work to the apartment, or to get a few groceries. I’d forgotten just how vibrant the city truly was with the new sports stadium and speed track.

There were people everywhere, the streets teeming with activity. He kept his hand firmly planted around my knee as he maneuvered through the streets, passing one vehicle then another with ease. It was a possessive gesture, as if any time he was required to stop at a light, the tourists on the sidewalks would accept that I belonged to him.

Oddly enough, it was comfortable. Even if I continuously glanced into the rearview mirror, especially when stopping at a traffic light.

I was well aware two SUVs were following us, filled with men equipped to handle any attempt on the man’s life, but their presence didn’t seem to bother Kraven in the least. So I’d decided I’d do my best not to allow it to interrupt the day.

“What do you really take me for, Red Penny?” he asked.

“Do you really want that answer?”




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