The Bounty Hunters: The Marino Bros.: Box Set (109 page)

Opening the door to his room, he was immediately caught off guard by the scent of her perfume. It reeled his senses. He hadn’t expected her to permeate the very air he breathed, in his home no less. He inhaled once more, and took comfort in it. Here she was safe. No one would harm her here. He already had a good security system, and he was making arrangements to strengthen it. Inhaling once more, he was surprised it didn’t bother him more than he thought it would, a women taking over his personal space.

Yes, he’d had woman here before, but nothing overnight. He didn’t like the turn of his thoughts, and feelings, so he quickly disrobed and made his way to the shower putting it on blast and stepped in. The welcome heat and spray reinvigorated him.

The shower was done perfunctorily and leaving the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around him, he went to his room to pick up his clothes and find something less formal to wear. He was shocked by the presence of Catarina sitting on his bed. The thought of taking her immediately came rushing into his brain. He dared not look down and willed his body not to react. But the woman was so stunning. She wore Capri leggings and a simple pleasant blouse in a pale gold that revealed just a bit more of one shoulder than the other.

“Cat, I am surprised.” He tightened the towel that clung to his hips.

She laughed. “Sorry, I came up when Gio came downstairs. I wanted to give the newlyweds a bit of privacy while their son did his homework.”

“I’m sure they would not have minded the company.” Andreas glanced at his dresser across the room, right in front of where she sat.

She laughed again. She saw where he was looking and found it quite amusing that he was disturbed by her presence. She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, and it made Andreas’ blood burn. “I know men enough to know when one wants to ravage a woman.” His heart thundered in his chest. “And your brother, well let’s just say, he was polite, but when I excused myself he was also very pleased.”

The woman had baited him. For god sakes, she was something. His eyes narrowed at her. He laughed at the way she had expressed herself, and the way she had fooled him. Maybe she wasn’t so different from other woman after all, he thought. His pulse began to quicken as he began to walk towards her. Two could play her game.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asked as he stopped to pick up the clothes he had discarded at the foot of his bed. He saw her tongue dart out when he bent over, her eyes briefly scanning him.

He was honest with her, but stepped back and made his way to his large closet. They both needed a bit of space. He stepped into his closet. He would change inside. From behind the closed door he called back, “The way you speak, I don’t know, it just struck me as amusing. You have a bit of an accent.”

“I think you have an accent,” she called out a tad louder than her normal speaking voice so he was sure to hear her. She had to suppress a giggle that was about to overtake her. She and Lisa had been talking about Andreas when he walked in on them.

“Hey,” he peeked from behind the door. “Now, you’re laughing at me.” He smiled though. Her hand was covering her mouth. Who did that when they laughed? He shook his head in wonder at her.

“Yes, and no,” she continued to laugh at the man who receded back into the closet using his own words against him.

“May, I ask why you’re laughing at me. Is it my accent?” he asked, coming out of the closet pulling a clean dark charcoal t-shirt over his still wet hair. His eyes dilated when he noticed her eyes flare at the sight of his naked torso flexing. He thought he detected something when he bent to pick up his clothes, but he had just seen it again. It pleased him that her mask had slipped, and she did find him attractive. He most assuredly found her attractive.

Cat surprised him even more. Instead of replying she burst out laughing. A full bellied laugh, that came with a snort or two.

“What?” he asked, still baffled but completely enthralled by the woman on his bed.

His widened eyes had her practically in hysterics. “Mr. Marino, I mean Andreas, I . . . am sorry . . . but I was laughing at my own thoughts. You see downstairs earlier, I had asked your sister-in-law if you were gay. And then there you were dressing in the closet. I mean who does that?” she continued to laugh and wipe at her eyes.

“Gay?” She thought he was gay! He was completely dumb struck. “I . . am . . not . . .”

“Oh please, Andreas,” she laughed getting up from her seat and approaching him. “You do not need to explain. I was just curious as to why I saw that you felt no attraction to me, while I was very much attracted to you. You just kept pouting at me, and giving me mean looks. Your sister-in-law assured me you were not gay, and that, like me, you have schooled your emotions. She said those looks were not mean and that you probably found me very attractive.”

Again her complete openness and candor shocked him.
Did people really talk this way?
Or was it just her?
But his mind was still on the gay thing, and he could not shake that. So like a fourteen year old, he repeated, “First, I am not gay. Second, yes, I find you very attractive.”

“Good,” she replied getting up from the bed. She walked towards him and his heart began to beat faster. He saw a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. When she was just a breath away, she lifted her hands, palms facing him and then she touched him. He was on fire. Yet, she was just smoothing the wrinkles out of his t-shirt. But with every stroke, he could feel her hands caress him. His body came alive at her touch. And it burned.

She stepped back from him and he immediately felt the loss. “Perhaps when this situation is over, we can explore this . . . um . . . our mutual attraction to one another.” The arch of her eyebrows made it a question. At his slight nod, she smiled and stepped to the side. “I’ll leave you to finish dressing and go annoy your brothers now.”

Holy Fuck! He was in trouble. When the door closed softly behind her, he let out his breath, and took several in. The woman had left him turned on, harder than stone, and left him speechless. Him!

*     *     *

“We’ll be back
later,” Andreas informed Gio by the downstairs entrance. His brother had followed them to the front entryway. Andreas left his car parked there for a quick getaway. Gio’s grin was ear to ear. He was holding back his laughter, but not saying anything for which Andreas was grateful. But he had his suspicions. His sister-in-law must have told him Catarina’s very, very wrong suspicions. He cleared his throat and gave Gio the evil eye, daring him to say anything. Gio clamped his lips shut, but winked at him. Andreas had the urge to clobber the larger man. Rubbing his jaw, Andreas muttered at the door. “After we get Miss Stone’s things we may stop to eat. Help yourselves to whatever is in the kitchen.”

“We’ll be fine,” Lisa stated as she came towards the door. She stood next to her husband, and elbowed him in the ribs when she saw the goofy expression on his face. Shaking her head, she muttered, “Go. Have fun.”

“Yes, go out. Have fun,” Gio stated as Andreas took Catarina’s elbow and guided her down the stairs. Andreas chanced a look back at his brother while opening Cat’s door. Again his brother had that silly grin on his face. His eyebrows were waging war with his face. Gio started to laugh, and Andreas gave him one more dirty look as Lisa began to shut the door.

But Gio wasn’t done. He never was. He always needed the last word. And Andreas’ suspicions were confirmed about his sister-in-law when his brother added quickly just before the door shut completely, “Bye ladies. Don’t stay out too late.”

Catarina had just sat down inside the car, and she heard it too. She began to laugh, but stifled it at Andreas’ stony expression. From inside they heard several expletives. They came from Lisa. Knowing this story would be told for years, and years, he began to shut the door and keep Catarina from hearing more colorful New York curses. Once she was safely ensconced inside, still giggling herself, Andreas made his way round to his side. But he fumed. His brother was a goddammned nit wit, and now he would tell the others. He would never be able to live this down.

Business and Pleasure

T
hey decided to
have dinner first, and Andreas found himself immensely enjoying her company. She was a great conversationalist, asked probing and thoughtful questions about his work, but kept it light. She never asked anything too personal, and he returned the favor. He asked her about her work, and she explained her business to him.

When Catarina explained it the way she did, he saw the benefit to what she was doing, and he couldn’t fault her. He felt pride in how she wanted to keep these girls off the street, and he knew why, but didn’t let on that he knew. She explained she did not condone her girls having sex with the clients although on occasion it happened, as long as the girls were willing and it was beyond their contracted hours. Her clients were older men, more often than not widowed, politicians who were invited to countless events and were either unmarried, gay, or widowers not looking to replace their wives but no longer wanted to go stag. For those who were gay, they were still in the proverbial closet. These older gentleman still fearful of the public scrutiny in the positions they held. Some of the men were just tired of fix ups, and some just wanted conversation. Andreas nodded understanding that. He wasn’t a talker himself, but he knew many men were.

“What do you do if the girls don’t follow your rules?” he asked curiously, wanting to know how she handled those situations.

She cocked her head to the side, her mane of hair glistening richly in the recessed lighting of the restaurant. “Hmm, I give them fair warning, talk to them, and then I dismiss them with a nice severance pay if it happens again. No drugs, no sex during the contracted hours. My rules are simple. If they choose to pursue a relationship with one of the clients, then those men are no longer clients. Ever. The clients understand the rules as well.”

He admired this woman. She was very self-assured. “Full-disclosure, so to speak.”

“Yes,” she mused sipping her wine. The meal at the small Italian restaurant had been consumed long ago. “I believe in being very up front with my girls, and my clients. It creates fewer problems afterwards. But, it was not always so smooth. I learned as I went.”

She saw the narrowing of his brilliant blue eyes. They were a prominent feature, and she found them mesmerizing. “Have you had any trouble with any of your clients?” he asked, trying to be nonchalant. She knew he was thinking about the case again, her connection.

Cat tilted her head to the side, her long manicured nails tapping on the table reached up to push her long mahogany hair back over her shoulder. He wanted to reach forward and bring a strand back. He enjoyed looking at it and felt the urge to touch it.

“Not really. No, I screen them pretty well. I have had four of my clients who pursued relationships with my girls. Two actually married my girls, and the two other relationships ended eventually.”

Andreas set down his glass and gave her a wry smile. “Fifty-Fifty. Decent odds.”

“Yes, I guess a few of my girls got their Fairy tale prince. I was happy for them.” Her tone became softer.

Cat had a faraway look in her eyes, and although Andreas had sworn not to bring up the past he couldn’t help ask, “Are you looking for a fairy tale prince, Catarina?”

Her eyes widened and she focused on Andreas. She had not expected that question. She recovered quickly, and answered right away, her eyes narrowing with her words. “No. I was thinking of my great grandparents though. They had that. Shall we go?” she concluded abruptly and stood.

Andreas nodded and followed her out. He had paid the tab long ago, but he found himself wondering what her great grandparents had been like. It had been the only time in her life, he knew from reading her files, that she may have had stability, family. And it bothered him that she had not had more time with them.

*     *     *

Andreas steered Catarina
down the hall of the tenth floor of the Trump Towers. She slipped out her key from her small bag and handed it to Andreas who opened her door for her. He scanned the interior quickly and entered before her. Her apartment upon first appearance was large, and airy. The décor elegant. Like her. A second scan of the place and he was able to detect the motion sensors and small hidden cameras. The white caps over the sensors in the corners of the large room covered the device from immediate detection and blended in with the white paint of the ceiling. He pointed them out to her and explained what they did. You would not know what they were, he explained, unless you were informed. They appeared to be part of the crown molding.