intoxicating. That’s why I’m going to keep my eye on Rome. If she’s reeling him in, I want to make sure she’s on the level.”
“Rome’s too smart to fall for a setup, but I feel you. If he’s getting pulled in by the lust he might not be thinking straight,” X added. “I’ll get to the office and get started.”
“Hit me on my cell later with an update.”
“You got it. And watch your back.”
Nick grinned. “Always.”
They didn’t say it but both of them would be watching Rome’s. They’d been friends for far too long to miss the warning signs. Rome was distracted, and that wasn’t normal. More important, it wasn’t safe for them or the woman he seemed hell-bent on protecting.
He’d said it was only for her. But that was a lie. Nothing in Kalina’s life had been only for her. The parents she’d thought belonged to her had left her at an orphanage. The foster parents were only a loan and they gave her nothing but what the state required them to give. She had her job and her life but they weren’t really hers. She worked for the city, doing good for the people of the city, but what was in it for her? It was a depressing thought and countered all the pleasurable sensations left over from her dream. But it was life—real, uncut, and uncensored. She’d learned long ago to just deal with it.
She opened her eyes slowly, praying the words in her head would disappear. Instead they moved around the room. No, not that she was seeing things, but they were in the air, like a litany of sorts. Something else was in the air.
Her window was closed and yet her body still felt a breeze. A warm summer’s breeze that soothed the skin yet also flushed it with sweat. But she was sweaty and she was naked and between her legs was sticky.
It had been a dream.
A truly realistic, sexy-as-hell dream that had aroused her to painful proportions, she figured as she struggled to get out of bed.
Her body was as sore as if she’d really been fucked while standing at an open window. And the words in her head were now in his voice. The deep sexy voice that had seduced her into climax. The voice she recognized from her real-life sexcapade in a black Tahoe last night.
Rome’s voice.
Dammit! Running her fingers through her short tresses, she wondered if she really wanted to be crazy. What if she really wanted to hear voices and have weird dreams for the rest of her life? What if on some deranged level this was the only way she’d ever be able to get off?
“Now, that is crazy,” she mumbled, getting off the bed and staring at the clock on her nightstand. It was almost noon. She’d slept in, something she never usually did. Then again, she’d never screamed in pleasure from a long hard dick, either.
What the hell was going on with her? Everything she knew about herself had been changing lately.
The window was open, just a crack, not as wide as it was in her dream. Still, it freaked her out, so she padded bare feet across the floor to close it. Then she yawned and stretched, waiting until she heard at least one bone crack in relief as she did. Next it was a shower; then she had some research to do. She wanted to run the descriptions of those men she’d seen last night through the police database, see if anything came up.
They looked deadly, hungry for something, and almost criminal, although there was no real way to look at someone and say offhand that he was a criminal. She’d had that proven when she’d arrested a pastor of a local church for selling ecstasy. Looks could definitely be deceiving, but Kalina was betting those three were up to no good.
Speaking of which—what the hell had happened to Rome last night? She moved into the bathroom, thinking. One minute he’d been in her apartment acting all John Shaft, searching like he was the one with a badge and gun and not her. Of course he had no idea she was a cop but she doubted that his actions would have changed if he had known. Roman Reynolds was definitely a take-charge kind of guy. His very presence commanded attention, allegiance, fear in anyone who ever thought of deceiving him. He was, in her mind, everything a drug lord would be.
After she’d found those freaking pictures, she’d rushed outside to see if Rome’s instincts had found something. Or if those three goons had followed her and he was macho enough to think he could take them on himself.
Gun in hand, she’d come out of her building last night and heard the horrific sounds.
Armed and ready to fight whatever had Rome running from her apartment, Kalina had been stopped cold on the front steps by what she could only describe as a series of roaring and chuffing sounds in the still night air.
Immediately she’d reverted to that night in her dreams. The one where the big-ass cat with the eerie eyes had roared over the body of a dead man.
Impossible. That’s what it was and she knew it. They were in Washington, DC, not a jungle. There were no big cats roaming the streets killing bad guys. Yet her frozen feet didn’t dare take her down those steps. While her mind warred over what was real and what was not, she didn’t move. Going out farther into the night to investigate had not been a possibility.
In fact, when she swore she heard the sound again she’d run back into the building, not stopping until she was locked safely in her apartment and huddling in her bed. It had taken hours for her to finally drift asleep—and when she did, she dreamed.
Surprisingly not of the cat, but of a man.
Warm water sluiced over her skin and she hummed with the decadent feeling of relaxing muscles. She was tense, sexually frustrated, and driving herself crazy with thoughts of big cats and drug lords. She needed a vacation, she thought, picking up her sponge and lathering it with bottled vanilla-scented soap.
She’d just turned off the water and stepped out of the shower when she heard something. It sounded like a door closing. Her front door.
Instinct kicked in. Even though she was in the bathroom with nothing but a robe she could throw on and no firearm, her mind was already coming up with self-defense ideas. There were scissors in the drawer of the vanity. Kalina pulled it open and clasped them in her hand. Reaching for her robe on the back of the door she hurriedly pushed her arms into the sleeves and belted it at her waist. She was reaching for the doorknob when she heard another thump. Whoever was bold enough to break into her apartment early on a Saturday afternoon had better be bold enough to face her. She needed to get into the living room, or her bedroom, because she had a gun in both spots. But for now, the scissors would have to do.
Kalina had been attempting to pull the door open slowly when it was suddenly pushed in. She stumbled backward but quickly righted herself, raising her arm with the scissors in hand ready to strike.
The movement was like a blur of black it was so fast. She didn’t see a face or register if it was man or woman; her wrist was caught in the tight grip of a hand as she was pushed up against the wall with a sickening thump that knocked most of the wind out of her.
She blinked, trying to inhale and exhale, her fingers still curled tightly around the handle of the scissors.
“What? Roman?” she said when she looked up into his dark eyes and furrowed brow.
He sighed, loosened his grip, then reached for the scissors. “Hello, Kalina.”
She yanked her arm back, keeping the scissors in hand. “Hello? Is that all you have to say after you bust through my bathroom door and manhandle me?”
“I didn’t manhandle you,” he said in a tone that astonished her.
He was talking as casually as if it were okay to be here right now. As if she’d invited him in.
“How did you get into my apartment?”
“I opened the door and came in.”
“With what key?”
“Why don’t you have a security system? A young woman living alone should protect herself better. You need an alarm system. Or a more secure building.”
He was walking out of the bathroom now, having the audacity to look pissed off. Well, pissed off and exceptionally handsome in his jeans and fitted black T-shirt. As angry as she was becoming at his intrusion, she hadn’t missed the chance to check him out one more time. The air sizzled with sexual dominance; when she
