Page 59 of Veiled Amor

Capone knew it wasn’t the end of Nicholas Cole. The wolf hated to lose.

The flawless woman against his chest lifted her face. Capone saw a future in her eyes, and his loose tongue almost voiced it.

“Are you going to make me forget I’m a twenty-six-year-old woman with daddy issues?”

Her question quirked his lips and burned through some of the anger he was feeling. “I’m going to feed you.” Sliding a hand down the length of her back, he gave her ass a little spontaneous swat. “Go shower, and we’ll get going. We’ll see what we can do about those issues after you have food.”

She turned, and he called her name. “What did you come looking for me for?”

“Oh,” she grinned. “It was to say sorry for being a brat.”

Capone smirked one twitch of his lips. He could picture her being a brat and him putting her in her place. And they’d both enjoy it.

“Ten minutes,amor.” He rasped, and he watched her little backside rush inside.

Capone stood statue-still, and for once, he didn’t have a raging war going on inside him. It was as if that one call with his enemy told him everything he could do.

Not to stick it to Nicholas.

It was all for Lucia.

Warmth bloomed in Capone’s chest while he stood waiting for a woman he felt as though he’d waited a lifetime for.

And he smiled when she rushed back out to him eight minutes later.

SEVENTEEN

“There’s a time and a place. That might as well be now.” – Capone

The delicate hand sneaked across the table to dip a piece of waffle in his egg yolk for the third time. Keeping his smile at bay, Capone watched Lucia chewing, lost in her thoughts.

He’d given her time by ordering her favorite breakfast foods. Making sure to have extra on his plate because he knew now she was a food stealer. He’d polished off his steak and most of the eggs and was drinking a second coffee when another latte was delivered to their table. When he stacked their empty plates, he slid the beignets over to her. “I’m stress eating,” she declared with a sigh. “You should have stopped me.”

“And risk my fingers,nena?”

She laughed and picked apart the powdered sugar dessert. Some pieces made it to her mouth, and she moaned as she chewed.

“Tell me about your father.”

“You know everything.”

Capone was starting to believe he didn’t know half of what she’d been through with Nicholas Cole. It had been out of sight, out of mind, and he fucking hated himself for assuming she’d been safe. Being pampered didn’t always mean being happy. She’d fled a fifty million dollar mansion. That was not the decision of a happy woman. Now he needed to know everything.

“I thought he was at least taking care of you.”

“I wasn’t beaten if that’s what you’re asking.”

It wasn’t. But it was one less thing he could stop worrying over.

When she pushed the plate of beignet crumbs away, she cradled the latte cup in her hands.

No one held his attention like she did, though he scanned every new person through the door for signs of danger.

“Nicholas can hurt you in a thousand other ways than putting a bruise on you. Tell me why you’re so scared of going back to Miami.”

“Does it matter?” She asked. “I’m not going back.”

“No, you’re not.” He agreed roughly.

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