Wounded Beast (Gypsy Heroes Book 2) (11 page)

I see one of the Barberry brothers try to sneak in behind Dom and punch him from the back. Without thinking, moving purely on instinct, I pick up a wine bottle and, rushing forward, smash it over his head. There
’
s a loud clunk. The man turns back with a growl and sinks slowly to the ground.

Ooops! In the movies, bottles that come into violent contact with human heads always shatter to smithereens. I look up from his prone body and meet Dom’s eyes. There
’
s a trickle of blood coming from his eyebrow, and he
’
s staring at me with his mouth slightly open. I drop the bottle.

‘He was going to hit you from the back. And that would have been unfair,’ I say mechanically.

He grins suddenly, and it
’
s like the sun has come out from behind a dark cloud.

‘Behind you!’ I scream.

Dom whirls around in time to face another fierce-looking Barberry brother. With my hand over my mouth, I watch Dom lay into him. As the man clutches his side and stumbles away, Shane walks up to Dom. The left side of his face is swollen.

‘You OK?’ he asks, as if it
’
s the most normal thing in the world to turn up for a party and get into a massive punch-up.

‘Yeah. You?’

He smiles. ‘Always.’

Justin comes up to them and claps them both on the back in an almost congratulatory manner. He
’
s laughing. This
is
normal for them! Dom leaves them and comes up to me. His eyes are dark and devouring. He looks at me as if I
’
m … hmm … well, food.

He grabs my hand and starts pulling me away. I run to keep up with his long strides.

‘Where are we going?’ I ask breathlessly.

‘Somewhere I can ravish you.’

I grin. ‘Dom, do you think he
’
ll be all right?’

‘Who?’

‘The guy I hit with the bottle.’

‘Are you kidding? It’s gonna take far more than a bottle to down a Barberry boy,’ he says.

And I laugh.

And so does he, as we run to the car.

We climb into it in a rush, and, like children who have been promised a trip to the ice cream parlor, we can hardly sit still with excitement. I smile a secret smile. It
’
s clear that the rush of adrenalin and testosterone has fueled his sexual appetite and I
’
m going to reap the benefit. Dom drives us to a quiet country lane. And there, under a half-moon, he lays me across the back seat and buries himself all the way inside me in one hard slam, then works it until we
’
re both an exhausted, satisfied, beautiful, sweaty mess. He reaches below, finds his trousers, rummages in one of the pockets and produces a gold bracelet.

‘Here,’ he says and capturing my hand fixes it on my wrist.

I bite my lip.

‘What?’ he asks.

‘Did you steal it or something?’ I ask with a grin.

‘Why would you think that?’

‘I don’t know. Bracelets usually come in a box.’

‘I can get you a box if you want.’

I shake my head slightly and gently touch the jewels on the pretty bracelet.

‘Sapphires,’ he says.

It’s not big or flash and there is no great declaration that he bought them because they match my eyes or anything romantic like that, but I almost want to cry with happiness.

‘It’s beautiful. Thank you,’ I choke

‘You’re welcome. Wear it all the time,’ he says casually.

And my heart soars. ‘I will.’

For a long time, we lie naked and as precious as the stars shining brightly in the night sky.

‘Y
ou wouldn’t have any sisters for me, would you?’ Shane teases Ella, a seductive smile spread across his face.

We
’
re at my ma’s for Sunday lunch. I don’t know what I expected when I sprang Ella, the tax collector, on my family, but they
’
ve surprised me with the genuine warmth of their welcome. Never once has she been made to feel that anything might be amiss. Of course, Shane has to make a bigger ass of himself than usual.

‘Afraid not,’ Ella says with a grin. ‘But I do have a brother if you’re interested.’

‘Ah, I’ll let you know if I start batting for the other side,’ Shane says with a laugh.

I know Shane’s banter means nothing, but what the fuck! I feel jealousy pour through me. I place my hand possessively on her curvaceous bottom and throw my younger brother a ‘back the hell off
’
glare.

With a brotherly pat on my shoulder and a mischievous glint in his eyes, he moves away.

Ella goes to join the women in the kitchen, and Jake comes over to me.

‘So, that’s Ella Savage,’ he says quietly, a strange look in his eyes.

‘Yeah,’ I reply, my tone neutral but forbidding any further intrusions.

‘She’s beautiful.’

‘I know.’

He raises his glass. ‘Here’s to you.’ And for a moment there
’
s a tinge of sadness in his face. Then Shane joins us.

‘Hoi,’ he says. ‘What are you guys drinking to?’

‘To Dom,’ Jake says simply.

Shane grins wolfishly. ‘And the
very
gorgeous Ella.’

I stare at him warningly, even though I know he
’
s only yanking my chain. We all raise our glasses and drink. And I wonder if it has been a mistake to bring Ella to meet my family. They
’
re ready for her, but I
’
m not.

I
love
Dom’s family. And I don’t say that facetiously. They
’
re so kind, and I can feel how genuine their welcome is in every word and gesture. I especially warm to Layla. A laughing woman-child, she
’
s the baby of the family. She throws her arms around me and kisses my cheeks as though we
’
re long-lost sisters. It
’
s immediately obvious that everyone loves her to death and is very protective of her.

Her husband, BJ, is another matter, though. He
’
s the largest man I
’
ve ever met, with a hugely muscled chest and bulging arms. His eyes are so black it
’
s impossible to know what he
’
s thinking. He doesn’t say much—his entire world seems to be made of his wife and their little boy. A highly energetic little thing who crawls around at frightening speed.

Jake, Dom’s oldest brother, is the most mysterious of them all. I wouldn’t want to mess with him. It seems as if he regards all the people gathered in that house as his personal responsibility. Almost as if he
’
s the alpha and this is his pack. His wife, Lily, is exotically beautiful and friendly, but not overly so. She
’
s more reserved. His daughter is precocious, a cute little sweetheart whom I instantly fall in love with. We get on like a house on fire. Considering she
’
s just three years old, I consider that a great victory.

I get a more muted reception from Dom’s mum: outwardly kind and friendly, but sometimes I catch her looking at me warily. I guess I can’t blame her. I
’
m the dreaded tax investigator. In some ways their kindness makes me feel like an impostor. Someone who
’
s come to hurt one of them while enjoying their hospitality.

Shane was right—his mother’s roast is wicked!

And thanks to Shane and Layla, lunch is a great laugh. I look at Dom, and realize I
’
ve never seen him as relaxed as he is with his family. He catches my eyes and smiles at me. A real, genuine smile.

After the meal, I join the women in the kitchen. Layla opens the freezer and brings out a tub of gin and tonic ice cream.

She looks at me and shakes her head. ‘When I was pregnant I never had any cravings because I was so worried about my baby, but since I gave birth, I can’t stop eating this stuff. I have it made specially. It’s really delicious. Want some?’

‘Uh, no,’ I refuse politely.

‘Just have a little taste,’ she insists, coming to me with the spoon.

‘No, really. I couldn’t. I’m so full.’

‘OK. But if you change your mind, I keep a tub in Dom’s house, too,’ she offers with a smile.

‘Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.’

While Layla stuffs the spoon of ice cream into her mouth, Lily pops her head behind Layla’s and shakes it as if warning me never to try Layla’s ice cream. Hiding a smile, I turn to Dom’s mother. ‘Can I do anything to help, Mrs. Eden?’

‘No, child. Everything
’
s already done. We all just come in here so my daughter can eat her ice cream.’ She looks out of the window and then back at me. ‘It
’
s such a beautiful afternoon, I think we’ll have coffee out on the terrace.’

I smile at her. How lucky this family is. I think of my poor parents stuck in their dark, poky flat and feel a little sad for them. And then Rob is in my head, saying how life is unfair. One child born with a golden spoon in its mouth, and another born starving.

‘I really liked your family,’ I tell Dom as we make our way back to London.

He glances at me. ‘Yeah, I think they really liked you too.’

‘I especially liked Layla. She
’
s so sweet and childlike.’

‘Hmm … Don’t be fooled. Underneath all that sweetness are nerves and determination made of solid steel.’

‘Really?’

‘Absolutely. She’s very special.’

‘You’re really lucky to have them all.’

He doesn
’
t turn to look at me. ‘I know.’

There
’
s silence for a few seconds, then he says, ‘You never talk about your family.’

‘I didn’t think you’d be interested.’

His head swings around. ‘Tell me about them.’

‘Well, we
’
re four: my parents, my brother and me. My parents live in London. My father took early retirement because he
’
s plagued by all kinds of diseases, and my mother
’
s his full-time caregiver. My brother
’
s just graduated from uni and is now traveling around Asia with his girlfriend.’

He nods. ‘Are you a close family?’

‘I’m close to my parents, but my brother and I don’t get on.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t like the way he treats Mum and Dad. They have so little, and he
’
s constantly asking them for money.’

‘Do they survive on their pension alone?’

‘Not really. I help them with bits and pieces, groceries and stuff.’

His eyes swivel around. ‘On your salary?’

I shrug. ‘I manage.’

And again he looks at me as if he
’
s seeing me for the first time.