Page 18 of Steal My Heart
He sends a message, pocketing his phone in his pants pocket on the other side of me. Hate to break it to him, but I could still swipe the device, even from this angle.
The men return from below deck, none of them making eye contact with me. I want to proclaim my innocence: I didn’t let him fuck me!
I mean, Ialmostdid, but almost doesn’t count.
We’re silently piloted back to shore, where Angelo exits before me. He extends his hand, but I ignore it, taking an exaggerated step onto the dock. Keeping my chin up, I walk with as much pride as a woman wearing her underwear, a suit jacket, and combat boots can muster.
Angelo
Maks hangs back. “Questa donna è un problema.”This woman is trouble.
“Forse ho bisogno di un po' di problemi nella mia vita.”Maybe I need a little trouble in my life, I find myself justifying my impulsive actions.
“Who are you?” My friend ribs.
I run a hand through my hair in frustration. Do I even fucking know?
Chapter Six
Remi
“Oww, Nola. It’s too early.” I whine, my cat having pounced on my head.
My cat.
I snap my eyes open and sit up. I’m not in my shitty apartment, but in a luxurious king-size bed with the softest Egyptian cotton known to man. “Aww, he brought you here.” After the events of the past twenty-four hours, I didn’t argue when Angelo told me I’d be spending the night.
Noticing the tray on the nightstand, there’s an espresso in one of those fancy little cups, pastries, and a single red carnation in a crystal vase.
“Gator bait,” I remind myself, standing and stretching.
Nolameows.
“Don’t ask,” I warn her.
That’s when I spot the note. I grab the formal monogrammed stationery.
Remi,
I have business to attend to this morning in the city. Don’t try to leave the property, you’d only get yourself killed. We’ll talk when I get back.
~ Angelo
“An implicit threat that he’d kill me, or does this mean the gator would kill me?” I shudder. “Either way, let’s hope another nighttime cruise isn’t on the itinerary.”
Nola just looks at me.
“Okay, I know you’re out of the loop. Abbreviated version: Angelo tracked me down, politely kidnapped me, took me out on a yacht, and threatened to feed me to an alligator.”
Meow.
“Right?” I don’t dare tell Nola whatalmosthappened after those events, as I don’t need her judgmental meows.
I step into a pair of fluffy slippers and check out the spa-like ensuite. “‘Don’t leave the property?’ Are you freaking kidding me?” I squeal. “I’m never leaving. I’ll declare squatters’ rights if I have to.”
After a very luxurious bubble bath while drinking my espresso and acting all fancy, I go in search of clothes in the walk-in closet.
I gasp. Everything from my apartment is here, encompassing a tiny space in the corner. The rest of the closet is filled with new and expensive-looking designer duds.
