“He’s not very patient.”
“I need to ring Jess.” I leave Theo at the sink to go in search of my phone.
“Hold up, panicky pants.” Theo catches my wrist and pulls me back. “He won’t hurt her.”
“‘Panicky pants’?” I’ve never heard such a hard nut use such a wussy phrase.
He heaves his exasperation and returns to the mirror. “It’s you. I turn into a pansy-talking pussycat when you’re around.”
His admission stirs an unreasonable amount of satisfaction in my tummy, and I jump up onto the counter of the sink to watch him shave. I sit up straight, my hands in my lap. “Is he involved with someone?”
“Callum is involved with many someones.” He squirts some shaving gel in his palm before smoothing it over the roughness of his stubble.
“Oh,” I breathe. “Like dancers?”
“Like dancers,” he confirms. “He’s my friend, but he’s not exactly chivalrous.”
I snort on an unattractive laugh. “Sounds like someone I know.”
Theo’s hands slow over his stretched neck, his eyes lazily turning onto me. “Do I not treat you like a queen?”
“Yes, but you fuck me like a whore.” I’m not complaining. However, Theo’s reference to Callum’s bed habits has me all curious, not only for my friend and the man who has caught her eye, but for me and the man who has my heart. Did Theo sleep with the dancers? Did he see them as easy access? His bed companions. I definitely can’t imagine any of them turned down the pile of leanness before me.
“No,” he says out of the blue.
“No what?”
“No, I haven’t slept with any of the girls who work for me.”
“Did you read my mind?”
“Yes.” He turns back to the mirror and leans in, checking the coverage of shaving cream on his face. “Keep those racing thoughts of yours under control, sweetheart.”
I bite at the inside of my cheek, watching as he collects his razor and swishes it in the water. Has he ever treated another woman like a queen?
“Only my mother,” Theo says, and I look at him, startled.
“You’re freaking me out.”
“Good. You freak me out every second of the day.”
I have a satisfied smile on my face again, but it falls a little when my encounter with his mother in the hall earlier pops up in my mind. “Penny…”
“Definitely not Penny.”
“But you’re looking after her.”
“I’m helping her get back on her feet.”
I could laugh, but I hold back. She’s definitely back on her feet. In six-inch heels. With her legs wrapped around a pole. “Who is she?”
“I told you, the daughter of an old friend.” His answer is full and final, and I sigh, but move on before I annoy him with more questions.
“You know, you say Callum isn’t exactly chivalrous, but he carried Jess over a huge puddle last night.”
“He did?”
“Yes.”
“Probably planned on drowning her in it.”
I roll my eyes dramatically, and he laughs, bringing the razor to his cheek. “Wait!” I shout, making him pause with the blade an inch from his skin. I show him my hand and reach forward, taking the razor. “Don’t shave.”
“Why?”
“Because I like this.” I smooth a palm over the roughness beneath the cream.
“You want me to keep it?”
“Yes.” I drop the razor and pull the plug from the sink, draining the water and rinsing my hand.
“Then I’ll keep it.” He picks me up and places me on my feet, walking me back to the shower.
“You need to get all the cream off,” I point out, letting him manipulate my steps.
He grins and claims my arms, holding them still before he dips his head and starts rubbing his cheeks against mine, coating me in the masculine scent.
“Hey!” I yell, laughing as I use my face to try to wrestle him away. “Theo, that tickles!”
He growls, not relenting until he has me in the shower and the water washes the cream away from both of us. His clear face comes into view, his smile bright, and a palm comes down onto my arse. “Turn around, hands on the wall.”
I’m looking at the tiles faster than my self-respect should allow.
Chapter 20
Well, would you look at that,” Theo muses as we pull up outside my apartment. I stare ahead, to the Mercedes that belongs to Callum.
“He’s here?” I look at Theo, and Theo looks at me.
“Looks like it. Unless he couldn’t get her body in the boot, so he carried it down to the common to dump it.” He gets out and slams the door, grinning as he rounds the car to my side.
“That’s not funny,” I say as he opens the door and helps me out. I dash to the front door, fumbling to find my key as I go. I don’t get to insert it into the lock. I don’t even get the chance to locate it in my bag. The door swings open, and I’m knocked back a few steps by the sight of a bare-chested Callum.
“Fucking hell,” I breathe, part shocked, part…well, shocked. I’m really shocked. My jaw is lax as my eyes, level with his ripped chest, drift in and out of focus. In reality, he’s no more cut than my big man, but I’m getting used to seeing Theo’s chest. I didn’t think anything remotely similar could exist. I was wrong. I blink as I shake some life back into me, looking up into Callum’s sleepy eyes.
“What time is it?” he croaks, looking past me to Theo.
“Ten, you lazy bastard.” Theo’s front meets my back as Callum grumbles under his breath, turning and wandering down the hall, his trousers undone and hanging low, a hand raking through his ruffed-up blond waves. I grin to myself but jump when Theo’s mouth meets my ear.
“Keep your eyes to yourself,” he whispers, pushing me onward.
My face screws up in guilt. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” I follow Callum, looking for Jess as I go. Where is she? When I enter the lounge, I find Theo’s friend shrugging on his shirt. “Where’s Jess?” I ask him, craning my neck to look into the kitchen.
He peeks up at me without lifting his head, fastening his belt, but he doesn’t speak. What’s going on?
“So you stayed here last night?” Theo asks, dropping to the chair in the corner of the room. He looks stupidly too big and mean for the quirky floral piece.
Callum’s lead gaze moves across the room, from me to Theo. “And?”
“All right, grouchy pants.” Theo chuckles softly.
Callum’s hard face creases into a frown. “‘Grouchy pants’?”
“Don’t worry,” I jump in, dropping my bag. “I was ‘panicky pants’ this morning.”
Theo scowls at me, and Callum grunts. “Woman’s turning you into a fucking pussy.”
“Speaking of pussy…” Theo sits back in the chair, working hard on keeping a casual persona. It’s a piss take. He knows it, I know it, and Callum knows it, too.
“No,” Callum grunts, short and sharp.
“Then why the fuck are you here?”
“Because I’ve never in my life seen a woman so drunk, and I figured it was dangerous.”
“Because she wasn’t sober enough to give you her consent?”
“Fuck you,” Callum snaps, shoving his feet into his shoes as he points at me.
I recoil. “What the hell have I got to do with it?”
Callum smiles tightly. “She’s your mate. You like her, and Theo likes you. Which means should anything happen to her, you’ll wail, Theo will have to deal with it, and I will get earache as a result.”
My eyebrows are high and surprised, and Theo bursts into a fit of laughter across the room. I look at him like he’s lost his mind, because it sounds like he has. I’ve never heard him laugh so hard. “You’re a twat, Callum Tyler.” Theo chuckles around his insult. “A fucking twat.”
Callum grabs his car keys. “Again, fuck you.”
“When was the last time you got some?”
“Fuck y
ou.” He strides out of the room.
“A while, then?” Theo shouts to his back. “Why would that be, Callum? There are plenty of women willing to drop their knickers for you.”
“Fuck you.” The door slams, and Theo continues falling to pieces in the chair, rubbing at his eyes.
“What was all that about?” I ask.
He breathes some calm back into him, letting the odd chuckle slip here and there. “He likes her,” he finally says.
I scoff, marching out of the room to find Jess. “Could have fooled me.” I swing her bedroom door open and find her half dangling off her bed, dribbling into the pillow. “Jess.” I shake her, dodging the flailing arm that swipes at me. “Jess, wake up.”
“Go away.”
“Callum just left. Did you know he stayed?”
She lunges upward like she could have been electrocuted, her wild hair covering most of her face. She brushes it away and finds me. “What?”
“Callum, he just left. He stayed?”
“I don’t know, did he?” She scans the bed, her forehead heavy, clearly trying to rewind through her memories and find the information she needs. “Oh, no. Please, no.”
“What?”
“I threw up.” She heaves, like she could vomit again. “And I might have told him I had an orgasm when he carried me over that puddle.”
“You didn’t?” I’m as horrified as she is, praying she dreamed that part.
She fake-cries, falling to the mattress and burying her face. “I fucking did.”
I shake my head at her in disappointment. But I’m laughing on the inside. My cool, together friend has been bamboozled by a man. I never thought I’d see the day. “You twat.”
“I am. I’m a twat.”
“I need to get changed. And you need to get all that alcohol out of your system before you start your shift tonight.”
Her head shoots up, panicked, her blond hair sticking out here and there haphazardly. “He’s gone?”
“Yep. And he hasn’t had any for a while, despite there being plenty on offer.” I waggle a suggestive eyebrow at her. “Just thought you should know.”
She blows a raspberry and plumps the pillow under her head. “I guarantee he’s heading straight back to the Playground to let off some steam with one of the strippers.”
“Dancers,” I correct.
“Do they put out?”
“Sounds like it, but I think he likes you.”
“What makes you say that?” she asks. “The vomit on my chin?”
“And your fetching hairdo this morning,” I say with a smile as Jess pats down her wild locks. “I’m heading out with Theo.”
“How are things?”
I shrug. “Well, I won’t be arrested, by all accounts, and my job is still mine if I want it. But I need to think about what I do next. I can’t stroll back in there like nothing happened.”
“And Theo?”
I back away from the bed. “The man has me dancing on the edge of frustration and complete heaven.” Reaching the door, I take the handle, mirroring Jess’s soft smile. “Catch you later.”
I make my way to my room, and once I’m dressed and ready, I find Theo still looking out of place in the floral chintz chair, his phone to his ear. I pull on my leather jacket as he looks me up and down, clearly approving of the baggy shirt and ripped jeans I’ve thrown on. “Half hour?” he says into the phone and nods before hanging up and gazing at me thoughtfully.
“What?” I ask, beginning to fidget under his concentrated stare.
He gets up from the chair and comes over to collect me, leading me out of my apartment. “I was just trying to comprehend how much I adore you.”
Good Lord, he’s sure making up for his stupidity. Does adore equal love? I quickly bat those thoughts away. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere.” He helps me into the car, leaving me in a high state of curiosity. Where’s somewhere?
* * *
Somewhere is a back street in Soho. Theo pulls his Bentley up to the curb, and I get out, looking around for any clue as to where we’re heading. There’s nothing obvious—no shops, restaurants, or bars. I throw my bag onto my shoulder and eye Theo as he pulls off his shades. His silence is beginning to get under my skin. A few long easy strides have him by my side, collecting me and pushing on down the street. I let him direct me until we arrive at some steps that lead down to a glossy black door, and I look for a sign that might tell me where we are. Nothing.
“This way,” Theo says, taking the steps before me and reaching back for my hand. I accept and descend with him, constantly searching for clues as to where we are and what we might be doing. He presses a silver buzzer, and the door opens a few seconds later, revealing a man. Jesus! I recoil, alarmed. He’s huge, and the whole left side of his face is covered in tribal art that creeps down his neck and disappears past the collar of his white T-shirt. Holy Lord, he looks frightening.
“Stan,” Theo says, letting him move back before coaxing me inside. I don’t realize that my grip of Theo’s hand has tightened until he flexes his fingers, looking down at me with reassuring eyes. I smile a small smile, moving into his side, and he catches me and tucks me in.
“Kane.” The tattooed giant presents his hand and waits for Theo to accept. “Good to see you, my friend.” He smiles, wide and toothy, shaving off ninety percent of his scariness with the friendly gesture.
“This is Izzy, my girlfriend.”
Stan turns that friendly smile on me. “Theo Kane’s girlfriend, huh?” He waits for Theo to release his hand before offering it to me. “Now that’s a title one should respect.”
“‘One’ as in you, or ‘one’ as in me?” I ask, shaking his hand.
He laughs and makes off down the corridor, gesturing for us to follow. “Both, darling.”
We cross the threshold into an open-plan space with bifold doors spanning the entire back wall, leading onto a small but well-kept garden. The huge area is sparsely furnished and divided into a kitchen, dining space, and lounge area. Theo pulls a chair out for me at a large white table, and I take a seat.
“Coffee?” Stan asks, bringing a coffeepot over to the table and settling with us. “Or something hard?” He flips Theo a grin.
“Coffee’s fine,” Theo replies, seeming to ignore Stan’s vague joke.
“Maybe I need something harder.” He holds up the coffeepot to me and I nod. Who is this guy and why are we here? And, more worryingly, why would either of them need the hard stuff? It’s eleven in the morning, for goodness’ sake.
Theo levels an almost impatient expression on Stan as he pours my coffee, and I wrap my palm around the mug when it’s handed to me. Then I wait for either man to shed some light on what’s going on.
“So.” Stan sits back in his chair, his eyes crossing from me to Theo constantly. “How’s life treating you?”
“You’ve not been at the Playground for a few months,” Theo says, ignoring his question. “Is winning becoming boring?”
Stan laughs lightly. “There’s only one man left to take on, and he won’t fight me.”
“You don’t want him to,” Theo retorts seriously, slight menace in his words. “You have talented hands. We wouldn’t want to fuck them up.”
Stan looks down at his hands with a smile. “Very true.”
My head goes from side to side, trying to keep up with the conversation. “You’re a fighter?” I ask Stan, seeing a perfect image in my mind’s eye of him in the cage at the Playground.
“It’s my other talent.” He winks, and then nods toward Theo. “Your man here refuses to take me on.”
“I don’t want to tarnish your perfect record,” Theo says, stroking the side of his mug.
“Or break my talented hands?” Stan laughs, showing them to Theo. “You’re so thoughtful.” An edge of sarcasm is there. “Are you telling me you’ve developed a conscience?”
“No, I’m reminding you that I don’t fight anymore.”
“Shame.
” Stan sighs. “I miss the bloodshed.”
My eyes shoot to Theo, finding him shaking his head a little. He used to fight? Bloodshed? A long licking shiver travels down my spine, making me sit up in my chair. I can only imagine what damage he’s capable of.
Theo looks across to me, sensing my reaction to this news, his hand falling to my knee and squeezing. “My days in the cage are behind me.”
My mind is spinning off some very vivid images of Theo pulverizing many men. Who would be stupid enough to take him on? He’s dangerous and capable of serious damage when he’s in full control of himself. And when he’s not…I shudder, dreading the thought. “I didn’t know that you ever did,” I reply quietly.
“Oh, he did.” Stan chuckles. “Anyone stupid enough to challenge him.”
“Like you,” Theo counters. “But lucky for you, I’m retired.”
“At thirty-one? You have years left in you.”
“Yes, but the men who faced me in that cage didn’t by the time I was done with them.”
“True story,” Stan agrees, looking off into the distance, like he’s reminiscing. “Your moves, man. It was like watching a dance,” he muses thoughtfully. “A beautiful dance.”
Theo shifts in his chair, obviously uncomfortable. Of course Theo’s moves were fluid and graceful. It’s how he escaped being touched. Otherwise, I’m guessing the level of damage inflicted on his opponents would have been irreparable. Any man who entered the cage with Theo Kane was dancing with death, quite literally.
Theo squeezes my knee, catching my attention. I’m grateful for the respite from such sobering thoughts. “Stop thinking,” he orders me gently. Then he looks over to Stan. “Can we get on with this?”
“Sure. Let’s move to where the magic happens.” Stan’s chair scrapes the floor as he stands and claps his hands together, rubbing them. “Let me get my cuffs.”
I rise from my chair with Theo’s help. “Cuffs?” I ask, looking up at him as he guides me into the garden and down the path to the back of a separate building.
“Yes, cuffs.”
The room we enter looks clinical, with a huge black chair in the center, a couple of stools, and white cupboards around the circumference. Framed art hangs on the walls, and a window on the far side shows a waiting area full of people flipping through folders. Stan pulls the blind and they all disappear.
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