Midnight Alias: A Killer Instincts Novel (31 page)

BOOK: Midnight Alias: A Killer Instincts Novel
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“To prove to yourself that you’re better than your parents,” she murmured.

“I
am
better than them,” he snapped. “I don’t need to prove that. It’s a fucking fact.”

“I know that,” she said quickly. “Of course you’re better than them.”

Their food arrived and Olivia stuck her fork in her salad, forcing herself to take a bite. “Your parents didn’t have what it takes to be successful,” she went on. “But you do. You own one of the most profitable clubs in the city.”

The ego stroking must have worked because he brightened. “I do.”

“And you’ve got all these new investments,” she added, feigning pride.

“I am doing very well for myself,” he said without a trace of modesty. “And this latest investment I’m involved in—it’s a big one, babe. Really big.”

She pretended to be impressed. “Is that what your big meeting is about on Tuesday? Are you—what’s the phrase for it? Closing a big deal?”

He offered an enthusiastic nod.

“Then we should celebrate that night,” she declared as she reached for her wineglass. “That way we’ll have two things to toast.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. Closing the deal might take all night.”

She pouted again. “How late can it really go? Business hours end at six.”

“This is a foreign deal, babe. The meeting won’t even start until ten.”

“At night?” She gasped.

He smiled indulgently. “That’s how it works with foreign partners. They go by their own clocks.”

“Oh.” She put on a disappointed face. “Okay. We’ll just stick to Wednesday night then.” She cast her eyes downward. “I bought a new outfit.”

Vince chuckled. “Did you?”

“Yeah.” She smiled. “I want to look nice for you.”

He reached across the table and clasped her hand. “You always look nice for me, babe.” Then he wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin and picked up the menu. “How about some dessert?”

* * *

Vince waited until Olivia’s BMW disappeared around the corner before slipping his phone out of his pocket. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about this entire evening had felt off. Maybe it was the walk down memory lane—he hated talking about his childhood. Or maybe it was the way Olivia had showed up and surprised him. She was a great girl, but spontaneity wasn’t her style, which was something he’d always appreciated about her. Spontaneity wasn’t his style either; he preferred careful planning, meticulous assessment. Consider every complication and think ten moves ahead.

Olivia showing up here tonight wasn’t sitting right with him.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to worry about that now. This was an important week, and he had to stay focused, keep his mind off pussy and solely on this new deal. Another thing he liked about Olivia—she wasn’t one of those overbearing bitches who demanded that he spend every second with her. He didn’t particularly approve of her decision to attend school—what did she need an education for when she had a man perfectly willing to take care of her? But he allowed her the independence because he knew women didn’t like feeling like they were on a leash.

He wouldn’t put up with it forever, though. This had been a busy year for him—becoming increasingly involved in the distribution operation, enhancing his contact network, hooking up with Moreno—but once this new partnership really got off the ground, he would focus his attention on his personal life. He had to buy his girl a ring, make this thing between them official, and the wedding would take some planning—Italians didn’t do anything halfway, especially not celebrations. But all that would come in time. Business came first, as always.

Nevertheless, it wouldn’t hurt to pay closer attention to his future wife’s activities.

“Mikey,” he said when his bodyguard answered. “I need you to place two more guards on my girl.”

“Is Rocko not doing his job? Because I can arrange for someone else—”

“No, Rocko’s solid. I want two men in addition to him. Get them to cover the front and rear of her building, and stay on her whenever she leaves the apartment.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Vince headed for the Town Car that appeared at the curb. As usual, his driver, Paul, was efficient, but this Sunday ritual had been going on for years, so he knew the drill. Vince slid into the backseat and ordered Paul to take him to the club, then leaned his head against the leather seat. A part of him wondered if increasing Olivia’s watch detail was excessive, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was up to something.

Probably paranoia, but Vince knew better than to second-guess his instincts. If Olivia
was
up to something . . . well, he’d find out soon enough.

Chapter 17

“I could get used to this,” Luke murmured as he rolled off Olivia’s flushed body.

He was still coming down from the orgasmic high, stunned by the enthusiasm Olivia had exhibited during their early-morning romp. A lot of women weren’t into morning sex, so waking up to the feel of Olivia kissing his neck had been a pleasant surprise. This was the first time he’d spent the entire night with a woman, which was another surprise, but Olivia had reminded him yesterday that he’d be outside watching the building anyway, so why not spend the night warm indoors? She’d raised a good point, though they both knew he wasn’t there to protect her. He couldn’t even count the number of times they’d made love during the night.

Made love?

Aw, shit. He was actually thinking of it as lovemaking.

“That was very nice,” she agreed, shifting closer.

He stroked her hair, marveling at its softness, its thickness. And he loved the way she cuddled beside him after sex, all warm and boneless, purring every few seconds like a contented cat.

It was official—he had it bad.

“So what do you do on your days off?” he asked, deciding that small talk was the only way to squash the strange emotions fluttering through him.

“I usually do homework. Or study. Or clean.”

“Uh-oh, someone call the fun police—you’re having so much fun it ought to be illegal.”

She laughed. “I know, I’m a huge dork. But it’s hard to make time for fun when you’ve got so many responsibilities.”

Smiling, Luke twined a strand of her silky hair around his finger. “Okay, well, if you had the time and opportunity, what would you do?”

She was quiet for a moment. “I’d do some traveling. That was one of the reasons I wanted to be a teacher—I adore kids and love being around them, but a job where you get the summers off? That’s a huge plus. I’d love to go to Scotland or England and see some castles.”

“Castles?” he echoed.

“Don’t make fun of me. I like castles, all right?”

He had to laugh. “All right. Traveling. What else do you want to do?”

“Not much else,” she admitted. “I don’t want crazy adventures. I’d prefer to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie, or go for a walk in the park or a drive in the country. I’m not into fancy restaurants—I’d pick one of those all-day-breakfast diners over a five-star restaurant any day.”

“A woman after my own heart,” he declared, reaching for her hand and planting a huge smack of a kiss on her knuckles.

Laughing, she snuggled closer to him, and as he continued to play with her hair, he realized just how much her answers had pleased him. His job went hand in hand with crazy adventures, and when he got back from a gig, he didn’t want to do anything but take it easy. Olivia’s description of what she considered a good time sounded pretty damn appealing to him. Cuddling and watching movies? Taking long walks and admiring some castles? Count him in.

Getting ahead of yourself, pal . . .

Yeah, he was definitely thinking way too far ahead here. He had no idea how Olivia even felt about him. Hell, he wasn’t sure what he felt for
her
.

“Do you have anything planned for today?” he asked.

“I need to stop by the admissions office on campus.” Her voice grew pained. “I’m going to drop out.”

He looked over in shock. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m leaving the city,” she reminded him. “Midterms are starting, and today is the last day to drop classes. If I don’t do it now, I won’t get any of my tuition money back.”

Luke smothered a sigh. Damn. He knew it killed her to drop out of school, but he couldn’t think of anything encouraging to say. She was right. No matter how this went down, she had to get out of New York. If Angelo was arrested, De Luca might target her. If Angelo walked free, then she’d be right back where she started—under that man’s thumb. Leaving town was her only option.

He dragged a comforting hand over her back. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I know how important school is to you.”

The breath she released was shaky. “It is. It’s very important. At NYU, I feel . . . like I have value, I guess. Like I’m more than a pretty face. When I hand in a paper or take a test, I’m judged based on my knowledge and the application of that knowledge.” Anger crept into her tone. “Everywhere else, I’m judged by my looks. People expect me to be an airhead or a spoiled brat, and at the club . . . nobody expects me to be anything. Just a pair of tits and a nice ass.”

Her emphatic words evoked a rush of guilt inside him. He’d been enamored of her looks too, back when she had been nothing more than Livy Lovelace, the goddess he had the pleasure of ogling at the Diamond Mine. It shamed him that he’d also assumed she’d be just another airhead stripper.

“You’re more than T&A, Olivia,” he said gruffly. “I’m serious—most of the things I like about you are completely unrelated to the way you look.”

“Oh really?” Her dark brows lifted in challenge as she craned her neck to look up at him. “What do you like about me?”

“Your strength—” When she opened her mouth to protest, he gave her shoulder a playful pinch. “Don’t give me that bull about not being strong, because you are. You’ve been working your butt off and taking care of your mom for years now—you’re telling me that doesn’t take strength?”

“I guess,” she conceded.

“And I love your resilience,” he went on. “The way you bounce back no matter what hardships life throws your way. I love that dry, subtle sense of humor of yours.” He faltered, his throat closing up a little. “And your presence . . . soothes me. I feel incredibly content when I’m around you. And . . . safe.”

Her breath hitched. “Safe?”

“Yeah, like I can tell you anything, and you won’t judge me for it.” The way he’d told her about Katrina. Fuck. He still couldn’t believe he’d opened up to her about that. Not even his closest friends knew all the details surrounding his father’s death.

Olivia cleared her throat. “That’s quite a list you just recited.”

“That was the short version. There are a hundred more things I like about you.” He decided to lighten the mood. “And yes, that gorgeous, traffic-stopping face is one of them.”

“My face does more than stop traffic—it sets off metal detectors too,” she quipped.

Luke snorted. “Yeah, and how does it do that?”

“Here, give me your hand.” She propped herself up on one elbow and took the hand he offered, bringing it to her left cheek. “Okay, feel this spot? Press down on it.”

He pressed his fingers where she indicated, felt the unmistakable evidence of metal beneath her smooth skin, and chuckled. “Gross,” he teased. “What are you, the Terminator?”

“My cheekbone collapsed when I was attacked, and the surgeon had to use a steel plate and a couple of screws to fix it.” She laughed. “So, yeah, I guess that does make me half robot now.”

A knock suddenly sounded on the door.

“Liv?” a soft voice called. “Are you up?”

Olivia jumped out of bed so fast it was almost comical. She looked at Luke lying on the rumpled sheets, then at her own naked body. “I’m up!” she practically shouted. “I’ll be out in a minute, Mom.”

“I’m making breakfast,” her mother said through the door. She paused. “How does your friend like his eggs?”

Busted.

Luke had to grin when the color drained out of Olivia’s face. Taking pity on her, he cleared his throat and called out, “Over easy.”

There was a soft chuckle, followed by footsteps retreating down the corridor.

“Why did you say that?” Olivia hissed.

He blinked. “She knew I was here. It would have been impolite not to answer.”

As Olivia began snatching up items of clothing, he felt a flicker of irritation. She was acting like she really,
really
didn’t want him to meet her mom, but why the hell not? He doubted Kathleen Taylor thought her daughter was a virgin, and she hadn’t sounded pissed just now, so what was Olivia’s problem?

Knowing that now was not the time to argue, he rose from the tangled sheets and found his clothes. He slipped into his cargo pants and buttoned up his black long-sleeve, but didn’t bother with socks or boots. “Before I forget,” he said as Olivia hurriedly got dressed, “I need your phone.”

“But I tossed the one you gave me, like you asked.”

“Not the disposable. Your real phone.”

Frowning, she reached for her purse and found her BlackBerry, then handed it over. The frown deepened as she watched Luke pry out the SIM card and shove it in his back pocket. “What are you doing?”

He held up another SIM card. “Replacing it with this. This card’s got a tracker embedded in it. That way we’ll be able to find you if anything ever happens. Even if the phone’s off, the transmitter emits a signal, and Holden can monitor it on his laptop.”

“Oh. All right.”

He popped in the new card. “Also, I need something you can always keep on you. Jewelry would be best—a necklace, bracelet, ring . . . ?”

Olivia walked over to the dresser and flipped open her jewelry box. She rummaged around for a moment. “Will this do?” she asked, holding up a silver chain with a small diamond-studded cross dangling from it. “It was a present from Vince, so he won’t be suspicious if I wear it all the time.”

Luke examined the necklace. They could easily pry out one of those little diamonds and get a tracking device in there. “It’s perfect,” he replied. “I’ll get it back to you later. We’ll bug it as well.” He met her eyes. “Ready for breakfast?”

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