Protected by Shadows (9 page)

He continued cooking and only spared her a glance. Wave after wave of rage rushed over her. Never had she wanted to maim someone so badly. Nor do the multitude of things to this man she was seriously considering.

My obsession truly is unhealthy.
She knew it. Admitted it. She’d been trying to move past it and all had been going well until he’d showed up at her door.
Correction, inside my house. Door first, now the bastard’s gone and made himself at home.

“I would really recommend you talk, Val. Before I start cutting things off.”

He continued to stir the sauce on the stovetop. “You have this obsession with things that dangle on me. You want to see them again, all you have to do is ask. I won’t refuse that request.”

“Why the fuck are you still here in my house?”
I am not, not,
not
, thinking of his offer and how much I want to take him up on it.

“I’m visiting my wife. Where else would I be?”

She sucked her teeth and moved to where she could see his face. Leaning against the counter next to the sink, she crossed her ankles and stared at him, her gaze boring into him. At first he didn’t seem that concerned, but the longer she stood and continued to do so, the more uneasy he began to appear.

“Very well, Val. This is the game you want to play”—her smile was feral—“let’s play it. So you’re now my husband.”

Chapter Five

That look on a woman’s face never ended well for a man. Valentino could admit it—he was concerned now. Lexy didn’t just give in and agree like she was doing. Every survival instinct he’d counted on to stay alive as he’d traveled the world doing what he did was screaming at him to get out.

Gripping the spoon a bit tighter, he checked the marinara and adjusted the heat. He cast a discerning look over the items on the glass stovetop. It would all be ready by the time the table was set. After he set the spoon in its painted holder, he turned to where she kept her dishes then quickly put down the items they’d need to enjoy his meal.

He kept an eye on Lexy, who continued to lean against the sink and watch him. Her face was blank—the feral smile had vanished—but there was a glint in her gaze that worried him. He opened the wine, poured them each a glass then lit the candles he’d found. It didn’t take him long to drain the spaghetti and place the pasta in a nice dish.

“Dinner’s ready,” he said as he put the meatballs on the table.

Lexy walked to her chair and he pulled it out for her, deliberately ignoring the sideways glance she shot him. He also had to ignore the desire he had to kiss her shoulder as he pushed her in to the table. Once seated, he served her then himself.

She ate silently as he tried to figure out what to say to get her talking to him. Swallowing his bite of garlic bread, he gestured to her with his knife. “Everything okay?”

“Delicious.”

He gave a small grin. It had been years since he’d cooked for someone else. The last time he’d done so had been for— Nope, not going there. He slammed the door shut on that memory, keeping it where it belonged. In the past.

“You really think this is the best way to keep me safe? Or are you using me as bait to try and bring down this Trevor guy?”

“A bit of both,” he admitted truthfully. “More that I want you safe.”

“I don’t even know why they contacted me. Doesn’t make any sense, I’d never heard of them until this whole thing began.” She used her bread to wipe up the remnants of her sauce. “I’m not changing my life during this. I continue to go to work and live my life.”

Alarm bells were still going off in his head, but he nodded. “Sounds fair.” He coughed. “No dating anyone else though.”

The smile which curved up her lips had every hair standing on end. “I’m apparently married now, why would I be out dating anyone else?”

He didn’t know how to respond without sounding like a jealous bastard. The thought of another touching her was enough to send fury pulsing through his veins, and on its heels was the urge to rip and maim someone.

“That brings us to another issue,” she said, prior to drinking the rest of her wine.

“Issue?”

She wriggled the fingers of her left hand in his direction. “Wedded bliss and all that usually comes with a ring.”

“I’ll go buy you a ring.” He could handle that.

“Oh no, it’s not that simple, Val.” Her smile was pure evil calculation. “I’m not letting it be that simple.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “If separate rooms are such a big thing to you, Lexy, fine. I’ll stay in the guest room. I’m not living on your couch though.”

“Right, rooms. Yeah, fine, whatever. No, this has nothing to do with that.”

He swirled the wine around in his glass and held her gaze. The candlelight flickered off her smooth skin, tempting him to reach out and touch her. “What does it have to do with?”

“The marriage.”

He poured more wine for himself. Lexy got herself some water then sat back across from him.

“What about it?”

“It has to be real.”

Valentino choked and began coughing. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You come in claiming we’re married.” She leaned back and toyed with the silverware on her empty plate. “I’m not going to be living a lie, nor will I continue to lie to my brothers. You find a preacher and marry me for real, get a ring on your finger as well.” Lexy gave him an untamed grin. “And as for that ring around your neck. It goes. No
husband
of mine will wear another woman’s ring.”

She rose from the table and walked to the door where she paused and glanced back at him. “Don’t ever try to put me in a corner again to get your way, Val. I promise it won’t end well for you.” Lexy vanished from view, leaving him alone.

Married. For real. His heart pounded in his chest. He’d never envisioned marrying again. That first one had turned out to be such a disaster. He reached beneath his shirt and withdrew the gold band on the chain he wore.

The pain of her betrayal lanced through him and he stared at the candles while running the band along the chain. The thought of going through another marriage had his stomach churning.

On the other hand, it was with Lexy. Perhaps things would be different. His phone rang and he answered.

“Is she willing to go along with this?” Masters asked.

“As long as I make the marriage a real one.”

“Good. Then there’s no problem.”

“No problem? I never said I was actually going to marry anyone again.”

“I don’t care what happened in the past. Hell, for all I care you can marry her and forget your vows. Just do what she wants to insure her cooperation. You can get it annulled after we catch that bastard.” Masters coughed. “Get it done, Cassano.”

The call ended and Valentino scowled down at the phone in his hand. “Yeah, right. Like it will be that easy.” He downed the rest of his wine. “Nothing is that easy when it comes to Alexsa Camden. At least not where I’m concerned.”

She returned to the kitchen while he was cleaning up. Without any remark, she jumped in and helped. Once all had been put away and the dishwasher was running, she wiped off the table.

“So is it a yes or no?”

He crossed his arms and stared at the top of her bent head. “You’re not really leaving me much choice.”

“Hell, I’m sorry, because you gave me the same courtesy? Oh, nope. That’s wrong, you cornered me as well.” The rag was back over the sink divider and she faced him. “You don’t want to marry me, just leave. It’s not that hard of a decision. However, if you are staying and we are getting married, I hope you brought money because I’m feeling in the mood for one hell of a ring.”

Her laughter mocked him as she left the room, fading only when her bedroom door closed with a decisive sound. He blew out a frustrated breath and left the room. Down her hall, he could see his bags on the floor in front of the other door. Muttering under his breath, he entered the guest room and found the bed had been made.

He debated barging into her room and seeing what she’d do. His phone beeped and he glanced down at the screen. Then cussed. The message from Beau didn’t help his temper any.

“I’m going to meet Beau,” he called out as he walked back up the hall.

“Knock yourself out.” She never even opened her door.

The walk wasn’t long and it didn’t entirely take out all his anger, but he had a better hold of it by the time he rang the doorbell of the Pepto-Bismol-pink house he stood before.

Ethan opened it and waved him in. After following the man through the small house, he found the others in a back bedroom. A bunch of surveillance equipment lay scattered about the room. The only place untouched with equipment was the bed, which Beau currently lay sprawled upon. His massive size seemed so out of place on the small double bed. If it bothered the man, he didn’t let it show.

“What did I have to come down here for?”

Beau sat up. “Masters told us to tell you to come down and fill us in. Just like I said in the text. What’s with the attitude toward us?”

Valentino leaned against the door and sighed. “She won’t go along unless the marriage is real.”

Three sets of eyes watched him. Anabelle Lee was the first to crack. She burst into laughter and her brother soon joined in. Beau wasn’t far behind.

“I fail to see how this is amusing,” he uttered.

“Of course
you
do,” she retorted. “We find it immensely amusing. That woman’s got more grit than I gave her credit for. I think I actually may like her.”

“You all know how I feel about marriage.”

“You’re the one who claimed the two of you were married. You could have said you were just engaged. But no, you went with the whole kit n’ caboodle.” Ethan wiped the corner of his eyes.

“He’s got you there, bro,” Beau chimed in from where he now reclined against the wall. “No one but you got yourself into this.” He flexed one massive arm. “Why exactly
did
you say the two of you were married?”

“I don’t know. It just came out.” He shifted his weight. “Knowing Lexy, had I said that we were merely engaged, she would have found a way to break it off. Then I wouldn’t be able to protect her.” Valentino glanced at them all. “What’s with the looks of disbelief?”

“You are so full of shit,” Anabelle Lee commented. “Admit it,
Val
. That woman means something to you. The sooner you admit it, the happier you’re going to be.”

“Fuck all you.” He whirled around and stomped up the hall, laughter trailing him.

“I’ll take you up on it, darlin’, but I don’t know how your
wife
will feel about it,” Anabelle hollered after him.

He slammed the door behind him as he left their house. Their words wouldn’t leave him alone. Were they right? Why did he care? He’d do his job and get on with his life.

* * * *

“Why the brother?” Trevor demanded into the phone, which was on speaker.

“Had to prove I…we…could get to her and those she cares about.”

Trevor picked up the rag from the end of the table and wiped the blood off his face as he walked and stared at the man slumped nearly unconscious and bleeding in the chair.

“Does she believe you now?”

“I think so.” The answer came through the phone.

He prayed for patience. John was proving to be a bit more difficult than Trevor preferred his members to be. “You think so?” He ensured he maintained a bland tone, showing emotion wasn’t in him. He was cold. Icy. Glacial.

“Know. I know she does.”

“So you’re confident then. Why are you calling and disturbing me?” He unrolled his favorite collection of devices with which to torture people.

The man in the chair watched him fearfully with his one remaining eye. Blood streamed down his chin, courtesy of the earlier tongue removal. Seated at the corner of his work table, Trevor broke the eye contact and stared at the phone, willing an answer he would want to come through the speaker.

“She’s married.”

His eye twitched. “Did you
not
know this beforehand?” Everyone in The Watchers understood how he hated to be disappointed, and feared it. Realizing his question was a bit sharp, he took a deep breath. The metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils. “It doesn’t matter, threaten harm to the husband.”

“Sir,” John said.

“Surely there are other ways—”

“Sir!”

“What?” Trevor barked.

Nothing moved in his building. Even the man in the chair was immobile, sitting there with blood running from his body parts, ears included, as Trevor had punctured his eardrums fifteen minutes ago.

“Her husband is an investment banker. Perhaps he would be of use.”

Money was always needed. “What’s his name?” He picked up a hacksaw and tested the blade’s sharpness on the tip of his own finger.

“Cassano. Valentino Cassano.”

Trevor froze. He knew that name. Blast from the past would be a way to explain it. Valentino had been rumored to be part of some clandestine government group, but he didn’t know for sure. It was a possibility—his source had been fairly reliable, despite being a bit unsure on how things were going to play out. Either way, they had a score to settle with one another. He for one wanted another crack at the arrogant bastard.