The Salvation of Vengeance (Wanted Men #2)

by Nancy Haviland

  Nika took comfort from him? He savored that for a second. And then tried to accept the fact that Caleb had just tied his hands. “The minute one of them breaks, you fucking call me. I don’t want you and Kirov going off on your own. You got it?”

  “Yeah, man. I’ll call, and you and I can take him down together.”

  Vincente breathed a sigh of relief and nodded once before going around to the driver’s side. He had no right to stop Caleb from going after Nollan to avenge his sister. When Vincente had found the ones responsible for Sophia’s torment, he hadn’t picked up the phone to call fuck-all. He’d gone in on his own and cleaned house, killing every last one of them and freeing the dozen girls still in captivity in the operation similar to what Tommy the Shark had been running. So, yeah, his rights where Nika was concerned came after her brother’s. He was just glad Caleb didn’t see it that way.

  Forty minutes after leaving Caleb and Maks together with their . . . work, Vincente was back home. He paused in the foyer and listened for voices but heard none. He tipped his head back and inhaled, the scent in the air making his stomach growl like a lion.

  Nothing better than home cooking, he thought as he headed to the kitchen. Living room was dark; offices down the hallway were dark. He felt crushed. Guess he’d have to wait until tomorrow to see—

  He paused before entering the kitchen and just stared. Nika was standing at the counter singing quietly, her head bent as she did something. He stretched his neck out for a better view. She was making lasagna. He swallowed the knot that rose in his throat. It was two o’clock in the morning, and Nika was in his kitchen making lasagna.

  As if trying to keep herself busy until he came home.

  He shoved the stupid thought away. Or tried to, but it wouldn’t budge. Was this what it could be like? Could a relationship between the two of them not be the dark, violent thing he’d convinced himself it would be? Could this incredibly domestic, welcoming sight be more accurate?

  He watched her pick up a bowl and spoon out blobs of the cheese mixture to spread it over the noodles she’d just laid out.

  Could he believe in this? Believe things could be so right? Could he trust in this feeling of harmony stealing over him?

  Or was it warping his view of reality as he knew it to be?

  Nika started, almost dropping the final lasagna noodle in her hand when a dark shape filled the entrance to the kitchen. Vincente. A flare of warmth lit in her lower belly when their eyes met. He strode in and nearly made her whimper when he smiled.

  “Smells fantastic.” He slowed his approach.

  Stunned by his lighthearted expression, she slowly laid out the noodle and watched his dark gaze take in what she was doing in one sweeping glance. He went to the stove, his long coat swishing, and hovered over the pot of sauce she’d made. He lifted the lid and inhaled deeply; the breath widened his chest in such a way that it made Nika want to pet it.

  “Nothing better than this smell,” he said. “You used fresh oregano, didn’t you?”

  She nodded when he turned his head to look at her. So stupid, but she felt as if she were in a 1950s TV show where the man had just come home after a hard day’s work and was now good-naturedly snooping to see what the little woman had prepared for dinner.

  “I didn’t know you liked to cook.”

  She pushed the silliness aside. She wasn’t Vincente’s little woman. She wouldn’t be anyone’s little woman ever again, she reminded herself. And Vincente had already proven he was changeable where she was concerned.

  No, better to play it cautious.

  “I haven’t lately,” she admitted, finding her voice as she wiped her hands on a towel and turned the volume down on her docked iPhone. “But I used to. I came down when I couldn’t sleep, and Samnang was just going to bed. I asked him if he wouldn’t mind me borrowing his kitchen, and he said yes. Since he had all the ingredients, I thought I’d make Eva’s favorite.” She motioned to the lasagna. “Samnang was okay with it . . .” She bit her tongue. Why did she have to make it sound as if she were defending herself?

  “I’m sure he didn’t mind at all.” He turned and went over to pull the fridge open.

  “Are you hungry?” Her question was hesitant. She felt awkward offering him food in his own home. He leaned back and peered around the door to see her. Did he have to be so sexy? “Um, there’s a fresh loaf of bread. I remember Caleb used to like dipping into a small bowl of sauce whenever I made it. There’s lots . . .” She pointed to the pot and dropped her gaze as she went over to tear a large sheet of foil wrap from the anchored box on the counter. She brought it back and covered half of the large roasting pan before repeating the action and covering the other half. She put the lid on the sauce pot as she opened the oven door and then lifted the heavy pan and slid it in.

  “I’d love some, thanks. I’m starving. Wine?” He plunked a bottle of red onto the counter. “You can’t have red sauce without a full-bodied wine.”

  Full-bodied? She opened the cupboard to the right of the sink and took down a bowl, making a naughty movie out of the word. “Sure.” She stiffened when he appeared beside her.

  “Excuse me.” He reached up, brushing against her oh so lightly to get two long-stemmed glassed from the top shelf. His scent invaded her as she stepped to the side, holding the bowl against her chest like a shield, so that she was in front of the six-burner range. Her breath sped up, desire blooming under her skin, right alongside the pain of his rejection. Both things she suspected she’d always feel when near this man.

  “You’re feeling better?” He hadn’t even taken his coat off.

  “Yes. Thank you.” She lifted the lid of the pot, then paused when she spied a dozen wineglasses on a rack anchored beneath the cupboard closest to where Vincente now stood a few feet away. Why hadn’t he used two of those? Why had he come right where she was standing? Had he, for some reason, maybe, wanted to be near her? She looked at him, and he looked away as he expertly popped the cork and began pouring, his hand so big he was able to hold the bottle from the bottom. Sexiest thing ever.

  A smile pulled at her lips as she turned back to the stove. Could Eva have been right? Had Vincente lied about not wanting her? She took a small breath and felt herself relax, her hurt feelings soothed without a word from him. It didn’t seem wise of her to soften as she was. She’d never been one to hold a grudge, but come on. Wasn’t she letting this morning’s episode go a little too easily?

  The sound of the bottle thunking onto the counter had her glancing over. He’d stopped midpour.

  “Put the bowl down.”

  She did without question, setting it and the glass lid on the stove top.

  “We almost have him. Got his cousin and friend tonight.”

  Her entire system buzzed in shock, and she was thankful he’d made her empty her hands because she would have dropped everything.

  “I’m not going to get into details, but just know we’re closing in on him.”

  The rush of adrenaline that spilled into Nika’s bloodstream made her feel sick. “What happened?” she choked. Her heart was now lodged in her throat. Horror crawled over her skin at what Kevin had told her the last time she’d seen him. “His cousin films porn. Kevin was going to—” She covered her mouth with her fingers and shook her head, unable to continue.

  Vincente’s dark brows came down, his mood changing, darkening. “Kevin was going to . . . what?”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head again. She couldn’t look at him. “And everyone’s all right?”

  “Everyone’s all right, Red,” he assured her after a slight pause. “We know what we’re doing here. None of us are rookies.”

  “I know. But even professionals make mistakes.” She carefully picked up the bowl again and scooped out a healthy serving of meat sauce from the pot on the stove, making sure to capture the largest chunks of ground be
ef and pork she could find. “I hope you don’t have any trouble sleeping on a full stomach,” she said, changing the subject as she cut three thick slices of bread from the fragrant Italian loaf she’d spied earlier. If she continued to think about Kevin, he would be in her head all night and she’d never sleep. “Caleb could eat a horse and sleep like the dead. I can’t. I have nightmares if I eat before bed.”

  “Just a light snack then? There’s grapes in the fridge.” He half sat on one of the tall stools on the other side of the counter, shifting his jacket—that he still hadn’t taken off—and she placed his food in front of him, accepting a glass of wine in return.

  He wasn’t using the duster to hide another injury from her, was he?

  “Thanks, but I picked as I prepared.” He nodded and ate with gusto, reminding Nika of her brother. “I think this might be the most normal thing we’ve ever done together,” she said without thinking. “I mean . . .”

  “It’s okay, Red. I know what you meant.” He wiped his mouth and raised his glass, tipping it toward her in a toast. “To normalcy.”

  She raised hers and drank, enjoying the wine’s tartness on the back of her tongue. Enjoying all of this. Vincente’s mood. His company. Him. This easy companionship was what she used to feel all the time when she was around people. The underlying attraction had never been there with anyone else, though.

  She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this in the past year. Now that Kevin was almost out of their lives—if she could trust in what Vincente was telling her—could this light and easy interaction be what she had to look forward to? Was her life finally going to return to simple and boring?

  If so, she’d take it.

  Vincente took in the thoughtful light in Nika’s green eyes and forced his gaze not to stray to her lips as she drank from her glass. His hot-and-cold routine must be screwing with her head. One minute telling her she wasn’t enough to turn him on. The next looking at her as if he wanted to eat her alive. He was sorry for that. But didn’t know how to stop doing what he was doing.

  He watched her pull open the oven and check the lasagna, his body humming with every move she made. Never had a pair of jeans looked so good on the same equipment all women had.

  He tipped his glass up and took another swallow of the dry red.

  “Can I ask you a personal question, Vincente?”

  Her voice was husky to his ears, vibrating down his tense spine. “Shoot.” He didn’t have it in him to fight his need for her tonight. Not when Gabriel’s advice was banging around in his head. And not when things seemed so uncomplicated, as they did now. This thing between them felt too effortless.

  And didn’t that make him nervous as hell?

  “What do you do for a living?”

  The out-of-the-blue topic stumped him. Shit. How to answer . . .

  “I have a construction company that I bought a few years ago. Aside from ROM, I give Gabriel a hand.” That was vague, but just because her brother was in a biker club, that didn’t mean Nika was aware of the nefarious dealings that went on in the organized crime world.

  She picked up her wine again and crossed her arms, resting the glass against her cheek. “What do you give him a hand with, exactly?”

  Unwilling to offer information that might make her hate him, he decided now was the time to wake up his still-snoozing pocket pal. “I, uh, picked something up tonight.” He didn’t want anything to ruin what they had going here and telling her about himself could possibly do that, so he wouldn’t. Not now anyway. He hadn’t felt like this in . . . Well, he was pretty sure he’d never felt like this, and he was enjoying it too much to fuck it up. “I thought you might help me out with it.”

  She straightened, putting her glass on the counter with a look that said, “Who me?” She was fucking precious. “Oh, um, okay?”

  His lips twitched as he put his hand into his pocket to grip the squirming offering. It was almost as if the pup had been waiting to be called up. “It was in that asshole’s place.” He pulled the puppy out. “And I didn’t want to leave it there.”

  The look that came into Nika’s eyes when she saw the neglected little guy nearly had him falling to his knees and begging her to look at him with that same expression of instant, blinding love. Her hands came up to cover her mouth, muffling a small sound of wonder.

  “Oh, Vincente. The poor baby.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m pretty sure it’s a rottweiler.” He extended his arm, hoping she’d accept him. “Kind of hard to tell because he’s in such rough shape.” The poor bugger had more ribs showing than a carcass in the desert. His paws and head looked massive, almost as if they’d been attached to the wrong body.

  And then Vincente wasn’t looking at the animal anymore, but at the overly careful way Nika was lifting it from his hand. She brought the nappy thing to her breast and bent her head to coo sweetly into its ear. She’d be an incredible mother, he couldn’t help but think as the lucky little bastard bumped his oversize head up and started dragging its tongue all over her face.

  She smiled and nuzzled its neck, only to come back up with her nose wrinkled in distaste. “Ugh, he smells like cigarettes, not puppy like he should.”

  Vincente took his coat off and threw it over the stool before stepping closer. He couldn’t stop his hand from coming up so he could run his thumb over her cheek, catching the tear that had slipped down. He dropped his arm the second he heard her breath whistle quickly through her lips.

  “Yeah, I think that’s what the mark is on his ear.” His voice was lower than it had been a second ago. “Cigarette burn.”

  Her head went down, her fingers picking up the velvety black flap. She winced when the pup whined.

  “Assholes,” she hissed under her breath, holding her new love tighter, the action giving Vincente a good shot of jealous. Over a fucking dog.

  “You wanna give him a bath?”

  She looked up and then away. “Yes. I would.”

  “Come on,” he said gruffly.

  “Vincente?”

  He paused and turned back.

  And was given a warm hug. “Thank you for saving him.” Nika’s lips touched the corner of his mouth in the softest of kisses. “We both thank you.” She cleared her throat as she drew back, leaving behind her scent. “Okay. A bath would be good.”

  Going on instinct alone, Vincente kicked all thoughts from his head, slipped his hand around Nika’s nape, and brought her back. He slanted his mouth over hers and took what he couldn’t deny himself any longer. Her. Her taste, her comfort, her passion . . . He wanted all of her.

  But would settle for her kiss.

  And, man, was she a giver. She made a small sound and then stepped into him so that her body was flush with his, only separated where her new puppy lay still in her arms. She parted her lips, and he accepted the invite without hesitation, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and groaning at the hot, wet taste of her. So fucking sweet, he thought, loving how her fingers slid into his hair to hold him to her. Her tongue swirled around his in a way that was so sexy it had desire ravaging his body until he was sure he was nothing but a smoking pile of ash.

  Absolutely forcing himself, Vincente slowed it down and then drew it to a close. He parted their mouths, then had to go back for one last lingering kiss before slowly raising his head.

  His breathing sounded as choppy as hers. “You’re welcome, for the dog.”

  Nika’s soft burst of laughter, and the smile that lit the heat simmering in her eyes, was something he’d never forget.

  “Come on.” He put his hand on her lower back. “Let’s go wash him up before we suffocate him.”

  He led her through the kitchen and down the back hallway to the laundry room, then silently started the water in the deep sink, ultraconscious of her standing just behind him. He kept his barely-under-control breathing shallow in an effor
t to take as little of her into him as he could in the small space. Actually, the room was probably a good twenty-by-twenty, but with her in there with him if felt like a freaking broom closet.

  He watched the water level rise, waiting for it to fill enough to cover the pup while still leaving his head out. “I’ll have Samnang get some things for him tomorrow,” he murmured, glancing back. “And you’re going to have to think of a name—”

  His jaw unhinged when she lifted the dog and checked between his legs. “Charlie,” she announced.

  His lips twitched with a humor he was surprised he was able to feel in a body so tightly wound. “Charlie?” He met her eyes as he shut the taps and cursed his own stupidity when he saw her smile, her long fingers petting Charlie in the same way Vincente wanted to be petted by her. He wanted to be a lap dog now? He was fucked. She nodded and cast her eyes down to the dirty pup. “Why Charlie?”

  “Because my dad used to love Charlie Brown. I always found it boring, but I’d watch The Great Pumpkin with him every Halloween anyway. He appreciated that.”

  “I’m sorry that was taken from you, Red.”

  “Me, too. You don’t talk about your parents at all,” she noted. Accurately.

  “I don’t have the same kind of memories you and Caleb do. For my mother, yes. She was an angel. Smothered us with love as only an Italian mother can.” His lips tipped up briefly. “She was killed by a car bomb meant for my old man. He was a loudmouth who wasn’t interested in the kids he had. Sophia was the one who missed out. She deserved better.”

  Her hand covered his as he pulled the bottle of soap closer to the edge of the sink. “So did you.”

  He shrugged that off. “Yeah, but I’m a guy. It’s not the same thing.”

  “Sure it is, Vincente.” She surprised him by coming up to kiss him on the mouth again, soft and lingering. “See? You feel the same thing I do. Affection is affection, no matter the gender.”

  She smiled as she put him on his ass. So beautiful. And he wasn’t talking about her looks. Yes, they were there, but it was who this woman was on the inside that was proving to be irresistible. Nika was gorgeous, and it made him furious that that beauty had been smothered for almost a year of her life.