I’d eventually graciously accepted the gift. I’d also thanked him in kind, which we’d both enjoyed.
It had been a huge surprise that he’d gone through the trouble of setting up a workspace for me. Which had actually offended him. In his mind, I should have known that he’d ensure I had what I needed.
He could be pretty sweet at times, though I was quite sure he didn’t realize it.
It amazed me how making the transition from ‘arrangement’ to ‘relationship’ had been relatively effortless—albeit nerve-wracking for me, because I couldn’t help but occasionally worry that he’d one day wish to backtrack. Maybe that wasn’t fair to him, since he’d given me no indication that I needed to harbor such a worry. But until recently, he’d always had such firm boundaries that I sometimes found it difficult to be confident that he wouldn’t at some point find a relationship stifling.
I supposed that it was part and parcel of caring for someone. It would hurt so much to lose them that the fear of it would dance around inside you and pop to the forefront of your mind every now and then.
Finished packing my bag, I placed it near the bedroom door. I had no doubt he’d shoot it a sour look. He always did nowadays, unhappy that I wouldn’t yet move in with him; that I still wished for us to take things slowly.
Well, it would be no small thing for me to give up my home, would it? I merely wanted to ease us both into the reality of what a committed relationship fully entailed. I was conscious of how easy it would be for us to screw things up. Neither of us had had a serious relationship before, or grown up with an example of a healthy one. As such, we were flying blind.
That was likely why we didn’t do much couple-y stuff. Neither of us were all that romantic. I could read romance books all day long, but I didn’t need the gestures; didn’t need the flowers or chocolates or candle-lit dinners. Which was good, because I highly doubted I’d get them from Danton—it wasn’t his style.
It meant far more to me that he did things such as provide me with my own workspace, buy me a laptop, stock foods I liked, and make an effort to get to know not only my friends but even Cole.
Back when we’d stuck to a simple arrangement, Danton had usually done little more than say a brief few words to them at the Vault before hauling me away. Now he talked to them. Even bought them drinks.
He didn’t seem to have many of his own friends, though he was particularly close to Duke and Vicente. I’d met a few more of his men recently. All were the epitome of respectful toward me, though not whatsoever chatty. I wasn’t sure if they were all the strong, silent type or just leery of seeming too friendly with their boss’s woman so avoided talking to me. Said boss was somewhat possessive after all.
Hearing my cell ring, I frowned. The sound wasn’t coming from inside the room. I’d obviously left the phone somewhere in the apartment.
I exited my bedroom and headed down the hallway as I began tracking the noise, quickly realizing that it had to becoming from the kitchen. I’d obviously left it on the counter by accident when I made myself a cup of coffee half an hour ago.
I froze as I neared the room, my blood running cold as Marcos rounded the corner at the very end of the hallway. The bottom fell out of my stomach. His eyes were hard, and his face was uber serious—there was no smirking, no sleazy eye-fuck.
My scalp tingled with unease. Marcos might merely be my father’s minion, but he was adangerousminion. The kind no woman wanted to be alone with. The kind who could hurt others and think nothing of it.
Jorge had obviously sent him.Thatwas what worried me most. If he wanted to send another ‘message’ to Danton and felt that a little violence was necessary, my being his daughter wouldn’t stop him. And if he’d given Marcos free range to do whatever he wanted to get across said message, this could get really,reallybad.
My pulse kicking up, I thought of making a mad dash for the kitchen to grab my phone. I was close enough to the room to make it there before he reached me. But he’d pursue me, and he wasfast.It was highly unlikely that I’d be successful at calling someone before Marcos got a grip on me.
“Hello, Cat,” he said, his voice dead, still no taunting grin or eye-fuck. That really worried me, because it showed he meant business.
I took a deliberately steady breath, intent on keeping my breathing under control, refusing to succumb to dread or panic. “You shouldn’t be here.”
My phone began to chime once more, and my gaze reflexively darted to the kitchen.
He shot me a look of warning. “Nu-uh, we won’t be answering that.”
I clamped my lips shut, hoping to heaven and hell that it was Danton calling. He’d worry that something was wrong whenI didn’t answer. He’d surely send Duke to check on me. Having witnessed my guard beat the shit out of Cory, I had the distinct feeling that he could take down Marcos with minimal effort.
I had no clue how Marcos had managed to escape Duke’s radar. My guard was highly vigilant. But then, Marcos wasn’t a stranger to bypassing any sort of security—human or technical.
He tipped his chin in the direction of the front door. “We need to go.”
Uh, no, we didn’t. But I supposed that this scenario was better than him being here merely to beat the piss out of me.Providinghe didn’t beat the piss out of me for refusing to leave with him. Because I absolutely was not going anywhere. “I take it my father sent you.”
“He’s waiting in the car outside. Now let’s get moving.”
I remained perfectly still, keeping my expression neutral and my breathing even.
He took a step toward me with a low growl. My fast-fluttering pulse leapt. It took everything I had not to draw back. That would be a show of weakness.
“Donotdick around, Cat. I don’t have the patience for it. You’ve pissed me off enough as it is. You don’t want to make it worse.”
Say what now? What could I have done to get him all riled up? I didn’t ask, because I had the strong feeling that offloading it on me would darken his mood even further.