Her Protector (Boston Doms Book 3)

by Jane Henry

  Tess shrugged and gave a brittle smile. “Oh, well! Things always work out for the best!”

  Hillary grimaced. “But I know how excited you were to not have a roommate,” she said, her voice gentle and sympathetic. “It sucks to have to couch surf when you really wanted your own space.”

  Tess shrugged again. “It’s not ideal,” she said brightly. “But I really don’t mind staying with a friend! We’ll stay out of each other’s way, and it’ll be fine. It’s only temporary!”

  Tony wondered if she knew how desperate she sounded.

  Hillary looked like she would say more, but a buzz from the rear door cut her off.

  “Oh, Matt must be here to pick me up!” she said, and her eyes filled with excitement, as though it had been days rather than hours since she’d seen her man. She walked quickly towards the kitchen, taking a moment to comb her fingers through her wavy blonde hair and straighten her shirt.

  Tony glanced at Tess and they exchanged a smirk.

  Young love. So cute.

  “So… Tell me more about this moving situation,” Tony said, folding his arms over his chest. Tess’s shoulders stiffened and she drew a deep breath.

  “Tony, I appreciate your concern. You’re a good guy. A good friend. But I’m fine, and I…”

  “You know, I am so glad you said that,” Tony interjected, as an idea sprang to his mind.

  Tess scowled. “Said what? That I’m fine?”

  “No,” Tony mused. “Well, I mean, yes, that too, of course. But I’m really glad you said that we’re friends. Because we are, Tess. Good friends.”

  Tess looked at him like he was crazy. A voice in the back of his head suggested that maybe she was right, but the facts had all clicked into place in his mind, finally, so he ignored that voice.

  “And Tess, friends don’t let friends do stupid shit,” he told her. “Shit that’s dangerous or unhealthy, shit that could get them hurt.”

  She licked her lips nervously, and his cock took that opportunity to remind him that this was Tess and she was just as irresistible as she’d been a few hours ago.

  Damn it.

  “What are you talking about?” she demanded.

  “I’m talking about you having all of your possessions and your sleeping bag in your car, Miss Damon. I’m talking about you not having a place to stay.”

  Her eyes widened and her face blanched.

  “I… you… I have a place to stay!” she stammered.

  “Hmmm. With your friend and her boyfriend? On her couch? Maybe,” Tony agreed. Another thought occurred to him, and he went with it. “Or maybe you haven’t even told her you needed a place to stay.”

  Tess’s face went from pale to flushed and Tony shook his head.

  “Fuck. Me. I’m right, aren’t I?” he demanded, a sudden and ferocious anger churning in his stomach. “Jesus Christ, Tessa! Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell anyone? I can think of a dozen people who would have helped you out—maybe more! What the hell were you thinking? If you need a place to stay, you…”

  “I don’t need help!” she whispered angrily. “And I don’t want help from you or from anyone else. I can take care of myself, Anthony Angelico.”

  Despite the fact that his temper had reached stratospheric levels, he felt the impact of those two words, his full name coming from those perfect lips, zing up his spine. God help him.

  “Who made the money in my checking account?” she hissed, stepping toward him with one accusing finger pointed at his chest. “Who pays my bills? Who takes care of my sister when my fucking mother screws her over again? I. Do. Understand?”

  Oh, he understood, all right. Way more than she probably realized. His chest burned at the pain in her voice.

  The thought flitted across his mind, as he stood there watching her trembling in desperate fury, her brown eyes glowing gold like she was some kind of avenging angel, that Tessa Damon must be the worst fucking submissive at The Club. There wasn’t a weak bone in this woman’s body.

  But if there was one thing that being the youngest Angelico brother had taught him, it was persistence. He was never the strongest or the fastest, but he was damn well able to hang on the longest. And like Tessa, he knew how to employ selective truth-telling when the situation required.

  He tamped down his anger and grabbed for control with both hands.

  “I wasn’t offering you a handout, Damon,” he told her, holding his hands up, palms out, and smiling. “Jeez! Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

  Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “You just said…”

  “I just said I had a place to stay if you wanted one,” he told her, widening his eyes innocently. “I was thinking we could help each other out. See, I live in a two-bedroom apartment, and my lease isn’t up until April.” This was truth, and she knew it. She blinked.

  Encouraged, he continued, “But you know, things have been kinda tight, what with the loans for the restaurant renovation and stuff.” Not precisely true, since the “tightness” was in his business financials—he still drew a decent salary. But he sighed in frustration, and that seemed to sell her. Her eyes were lit with sympathy.

  “I could take a roommate,” he said pensively, mentally adding when pigs fly. “But I hate the idea of living with a stranger.” Absolute truth. “So, you see, it was kind of selfish of you to not share your situation with me, because this could work out perfectly for both of us,” he concluded. “You could live with me. As my roommate. Temporarily.”

  “Live with you?” she said slowly. She blinked several more times, and the tension in his belly eased a fraction. “If I agreed, it would help you out?”

  He’d known that would be the clincher. Was it manipulative? Maybe. But also wasn’t a lie. Hell, yes, she’d be helping him out by moving in. For one thing, he wouldn’t have to carry her bodily into his apartment and tie her down, which is exactly what he’d do if she didn’t agree. Damned if she was spending another night in a fucking parking lot.

  “What’s the rent?” she asked. Oh, yes. She was thinking about it.

  “Uh…” The truth was, he lived in a fairly expensive apartment with a partial view of the Charles River. He knew how much she made, and knew that splitting his rent was way more than she could afford. He scrambled for a number that wasn’t suspiciously low nor disappointingly high. “Eight hundred a month would be fair.”

  “Shut up,” she said, shaking her head. “You live in Gallery Towers, Tony.”

  He winced. “Yeah, but the second bedroom is way smaller. Plus, you don’t get an en-suite.”

  She pursed her lips and thought about it. Then shook her head. “I just don’t know.”

  She left him no choice but to play his final card.

  “Gotta be honest, Tess. I’m not letting my manager sleep in her car anymore. You ran into a situation with your apartment falling through? That sucks. But shit happens to everyone. And I get you’re all independent and whatever, but deciding to sleep in your car ‘cause you’re too proud to admit that you need an assist? It’s stupid. And I’m not sure I want to employ someone who’s that fucking dumb. If you don’t move in with me, or find a decent situation immediately, meaning tonight, you’re fired.”

  She seemed to be struck dumb for a moment. Then her eyes widened, her jaw dropped, and she let out a little squawk that could have been a sound of hurt or outrage, or the precursor to lava erupting from her eyes…

  Or, apparently, laughter.

  He should have known to expect the unexpected when it came to Tessa.

  The crazy woman burst into giggles. She covered her mouth with her hand, but couldn’t repress it.

  “Oh, my God. You… are… amazing!” she told him.

  And then she really shocked him.

  She threw her arms around his neck and planted the tiniest kiss on his cheek.

  It only lasted a moment, so fast he barely had time to put his arms around her and catch the faintest hint of her perfume before she rocked back on
her feet, but it was enough to wake up his cock.

  Damn nuisance.

  “I don’t understand what’s funny,” he told her, setting his jaw and folding his arms across his chest. “I’m dead serious.”

  She smiled. “I know you are, and I know you’d follow through. But for you to take that step, you must be really, really worried about me, and that’s sweet. I happen to know you get a migraine just looking at the daily intake reports.” She shook her head, still smiling. “So, fine, you win. I’ll move in with you. As your roommate. Just temporarily. Like, very temporarily. And only because it will help you out, too.”

  Hmmm. Well, they could work out the details later.

  “And because I’m sweet?” Tony asked.

  She frowned a little and looked away. “Er… something like that. And because, well… it is dangerous and silly,” she conceded. “If my sister Nora was doing it, I…”

  “Stupid,” he corrected her. “Dangerous and stupid.”

  She scowled and inhaled sharply like she would argue, but he raised one eyebrow and looked at her sternly, and she seemed to deflate.

  “Yeah,” she finally agreed in a low voice. “That too.”

  He held his position for another minute waiting for her to argue again—Lord knew, the woman always had some snappy comeback to make. But this time she didn’t.

  Huh.

  Instead, she went back to the buffet table and finished boxing up the food. He noticed that her step seemed lighter, somehow.

  “All right, kids!” Matteo said, standing in the doorway and clapping his hands together once. “Let’s get this show on the road. My woman and I are eager to get home!”

  Tess snorted and glanced over her shoulder at Tony, rolling her eyes at Matt’s eagerness. Tony smirked back.

  But for once, he and his brother were in absolute agreement. Tonight, Tony couldn’t wait to get home, either.

  Chapter Three

  “See, and this is why I can’t stand these shows,” Tessa said, gesturing to the television as she shook her head, her lips pursed. “Clearly, she isn’t a zombie! First, you can see her chest rising up and down, and anyone who knows anything about zombies knows that they’re dead. Why would her chest be rising up and down like that?”

  Tony sighed with practiced patience, leaning forward from his seat on the sofa. He rested his arms on his knees, his fingertips coming together as he leaned forward. “See, you’re just perpetuating a zombie myth,” he said with a sad shake of his head. “Yes, zombies are dead. But a small part of their heart, lungs, and brain still work. This is what makes them able to function! Plus, this zombie chick probably was used to breathing for, what, twenty or twenty-five years? You think just because you’re dead you forget how to breathe?”

  “You mean fifteen years. She can’t be a day over fifteen.”

  “No way!”

  “Yes way! And furthermore, did you see how she stopped and showed compassion to the puppy trapped in the car on the bridge? Zombies do not show their compassion. That’s the way zombies roll. Dead. Not conscious. No compassion or emotional reaction.”

  Tony nodded. Now they were getting somewhere.

  “And she cut herself and was bleeding. Ridiculous! Even the most basic second-grader knows zombies do not bleed! Hello?”

  “You’d let a second-grader watch this zombie movie? Are you crazy?”

  “I didn’t say that! But sure, second-graders play zombies on playgrounds.”

  “We played cops and robbers, not zombies. You played zombies?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. But listen! Final fact that proves the creators of this movie knew nothing about zombies.”

  He nodded.

  “Have you noticed how nicely manicured her nails were? She’s dead! Dead people do not have nicely manicured nails.”

  Tony looked soberly at her, with admiration. “Impressive. It’s like you did a thesis on zombies in college or something.”

  Tessa felt her cheeks flush slightly, as she cleared her throat. “I, um, may have.”

  He grinned, and her cheeks flushed deeper, for an entirely different reason.

  “My question is,” Tony continued, “what kind of a moron goes out to their car in the middle of the night, alone? Who parks their car in a dark alley to begin with? That girl deserved to be zombified.”

  “No one deserves to be zombified! What a horrible thing to say!”

  “There are definitely people who deserve to be zombified. For example—people who let second-graders watch zombie movies. And women who park their cars in dark alleys and go out to them alone in the middle of the night.”

  “No one deserves zombification,” she insisted with a serious shake of her head. He nodded soberly.

  “You know, you’re right. My brothers would say what she needs is a good spanking.”

  Her cheeks flamed, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t sure if she could trust herself to speak for a moment, as she fought to get control of her emotions, mostly flaming hot cheeks and a pounding heart because of the fact he’d just said someone needed a good spanking. Thankfully, the doorbell rang and she sprang to her feet.

  “Don’t even think about it, Tess,” Tony said warningly. “I said no!”

  Like he was gonna do anything about it? Ha! She’d been moved into his apartment as his roommate for a solid three weeks, and they’d gotten takeout precisely three times. He’d insisted on paying every time and hadn’t taken a penny from her, but this time would be different.

  “Back off, Angelico,” she said, hustling to the door ahead of him. What he didn’t know is that she already had the cash tucked into her pocket, exact change plus tip, and she’d planned her move. Distract him, open the door, shove cash in the delivery person’s hand.

  “Oh, Tony, what’s that on the balcony? Did another one of the baby birds get injured? Look!” She pointed a finger, and he actually fell for it, turning to the sliding glass door of the balcony. A mama bird had built a nest right outside the balcony door, conveniently tucked into the wrought iron railing, and some creature had gotten to one of the birds a few days prior. To Tessa’s immense pleasure, Tony had actually brought the bird inside, gingerly carrying it in his Red Sox cap and calling his friend who worked at a nearby animal shelter. It was the cutest thing Tess had ever seen. She watched gleefully now as he fell for it, turning to the balcony. She sprinted to the door. The tall, gangly teen with a shock of red hair and glasses perched on his nose blinked as she yanked open the door, smiled her thanks, shoved the cash in his hand, and grabbed the box.

  “Thanks so much. Have a good night!” she said, and the door was shut in the boy’s face before Tony had recovered from the fake out.

  Still facing the door, she held the box in her hand, not quite ready to face Tony. She’d planned the whole thing before the food got there. What she hadn’t planned was how to deal with him after she’d fooled him. Slowly, she turned around, and she knew the look on her face was sheepish.

  “So, you say this is the best pizza in Boston, huh?” she said quickly. “Why don’t you get us some plates, and I’ll get us some drinks. Phew, am I hungry. So famished, I actually feel a little faint! Can you...”

  Her voice trailed off as her fast-talking move wasn’t doing a damn thing. Tony was standing in front of her, and was it her imagination or did she shrink or something? She didn’t remember him being this much taller than she was. Damn it, wearing heels to work had decided advantages. Those eyes! Oh, God, his eyes were narrowed on her in a teasing, but still sexy-stern way that made her heart flutter in her chest.

  “Hungry,” she stuttered helplessly. “Faint… with hunger.”

  He stalked closer to her, and the only thing between him and her was a flimsy cardboard box, which he removed with one firm pull. She squealed.

  He placed the box on the dining room table, then continued to prowl closer to her. She backpedaled until he had her pinned against the door, and her hands went flat out behind her, splayed on the c
ool frame of the door.

  “Are you really faint with hunger? Or is that another one of your fibs, Miss Damon?”

  Oh, she was definitely faint, but she was sure it wasn’t from hunger. Her knees trembled and she was so turned on, it was mortifying. She swallowed, an impossible giggle bubbling up.

  “Fib? Who says fib?” she snorted. Gosh, his word choices were so adorable sometimes.

  He raised his eyebrows incredulously. “First, you fake me out so you can have your way even though I insisted I was paying, you told a fib, and now you’ll insult me?”

  He was so close she could see the flecks in the depths of his hazel eyes.

  “It’s just cute,” she said helplessly, immediately wishing she could take it back. His eyes softened a little.

  “I’ll modify my earlier statement,” he said, and he was so close, with his arms crossed on his chest, she could feel his heat, smell the faint sporty smell of the body wash he had in the shower that she surreptitiously lifted the lid on and sniffed every time she took a shower herself. “People who let second-graders watch zombie movies. Women who go to dark alleys alone in the middle of the night. And people who tell fibs to fake someone out so the guy can’t pay for the food he’s gonna eat most of anyway. Those are the people who need be spanked.”

  It was a sheer act of will that kept her standing.

  “Is that right?” she whispered, and her voice was husky. But it was just a threat. She knew he wasn’t into the whole spanking chicks thing. But just the idea of it… all he had to do was take her by the hand, and lead her to one of the chairs that flanked the dining room table. Oh, God. With one firm pull, he’d have her belly-down over his lap. Oh, God. And he’d said before that his brothers would say she needed a spanking. Now he was using the words “need to be spanked,” all on his own, not referring to the twitchy palms of Matteo or Dom, but his own large, capable, masculine—

  Her phone rang.