by Stacy Gail
Yes, Polo thought, scowling. Yes, it sure as fuck was.
Knives crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know who owns him, yeah?”
“Why do you think I said it was fine for that shit-for-brains to call me Scorpio? Even if that dirty bastard doesn’t know what that means, his owners do. Word will get back to the Scorpeones, and they’ll get the fucking message. Even though I’m officially retired, they’ll understand that I will never stop guarding Dash when it comes to them. Never.”
“They need more than vague messages, brother.”
“Then I’ll make my message loud and clear when I take their dirty cop and spend a week doing what needs to be done with him before dumping what’s left of his sorry ass on their doorstep.”
“Stay away from Schott,” came the surprising reply. “I’ll see to it personally that he gets what he deserves down the road, but cops always need a special kind of handling, and I want to protect you from that. All I need to know is that when the time comes, you won’t hesitate in destroying the forces lining up to take every Vitaliev down.”
The old, insane fire for blood lit in Polo’s veins, and it felt so terrifyingly good he couldn’t stop the smile from coming. “You got yourself a promise, brother.”
Chapter Nine
About a week after what I now thought of as The Great Twinkie Raid, I was sure I’d be persona non grata in the small, tight-knit charity world. And I was doubly sure I’d have to close Chicago’s Future’s doors forever.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Donations flowed in more than ever, and at first I thought Shona might be the miracle worker behind the upswing. She had the capacity to do it; her husband owned a ginormous chunk of commercial real estate in Illinois, so I wouldn’t have been surprised to find she’d applied the screws to get his investors to use us as a nice tax break.
But then the founder of a high-end security company—Private Security International—showed up near the end of the week, and announced he wished to donate a top of the line security system to our operation, along with a check that I was sure made my eyes bug out of my head.
When I asked the security head honcho, Cap Fogelmann, how he’d come to hear about Chicago’s Future, he’d offered a shrug and said, “I’m a friend of a friend of Polo Scorpeone’s, which basically means I’m in a position where it’s smart to keep a close eye on him. When Mr. Scorpeone began a campaign to get Chicago’s Future the attention it deserves, I’ll admit I became suspicious and looked long and hard into this charity. You’re doing great work here, Ms. Vitaliev, work that could have a positive impact on this city for years to come, if not generations. A stable community is an integral part of good security, so PSI would very much like to do everything we can to support your cause.”
Polo.
I didn’t know why I was so surprised, but I was.
Surprised, and deeply touched.
Sadly, the opportunity to tell Polo about how touched I was didn’t present itself, since he once again seemed to forget I existed. I was certainly busy dealing with the new influx of charitable contributions and making sure I personally connected with each person who chose to donate to Chicago’s Future. In addition to that, I met with the charity’s accountant, who thought we were solid enough now to rent out the vandalized space next door and start the process of turning it into the daycare that Shona and I had wanted since forever. And lastly, thanks to Shona, I finally had entertainment for the gala dinner happening at the end of the month. An up-and-coming pop singer from Shona’s old neighborhood had agreed to do a set for our guests, and to appear as living proof that brilliant talent and boundless potential and energy were just waiting to be tapped in even the most humble of places.
But through it all, Polo was nowhere to be found.
Maybe, unlike him, I wasn’t that great of a kisser. Like, totally forgettable. Obviously he wasn’t missing me very much.
Too bad I couldn’t say the same.
If my week had turned out surprisingly great, Tiffany Stoddard-Fanning’s had been the opposite. Her husband, a major wheel in the country’s leading pharmaceutical company, was caught in an embarrassing—and very public—situation with two drug reps at the Sheraton Grand hotel on the river. Apparently they had been testing some of the new male/female sex enhancers with tequila chasers, and something else that might not have been legal.
Normally that kind of incident wouldn’t have been made public—just whispered about behind Tiffany’s back. Unfortunately, the high and horny trio had decided it would be fun to sneak into the hotel’s pool for some skinny-dipping...in the middle of the afternoon.
The local news outlets reported that the three exhibitionists had been taken into custody. The word on the street was that Tiffany’s husband and one of the drug reps wouldn’t stop sexing it up right there on a poolside table until they were Tased and bodily uncoupled. Even then, an unconscious Mr. Fanning still sported an erection that tented the sheet as he was loaded onto a gurney and taken away.
It was too bad the drug company that made the sex enhancer couldn’t use the bizarre incident as an example of its product’s impressive potency. With a story like that, they wouldn’t be able to keep it on the shelves.
The odd thing about that story—aside from everything—was the timing. With such a juicy scandal being served up, my little police raid that had uncovered nothing was ignored. That was great for me, of course. But while I was relieved Chicago’s Future had dodged a bullet, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Tiffany, and suspicious over how her crisis had unfolded so publicly.
The first person I questioned was Konstantin, since he was the most readily available source of information. He swore up and down that he had nothing to do with it, so I had to believe him. He got a little cagier when I asked if he knew anything about it, and finally told me to just leave it alone and thank my lucky stars that it had happened.
I did thank my lucky stars, because I was thankful. And relieved.
But I was also suspicious.
In anyone would know about this, it would be Polo.
Pulling up to Paradis Nouveau’s valet parking, I handed my keys to the attendant and made eye contact with the one of the security guards. “Penthouse or club?”
The security man blinked. “Ma’am?”
“It’s Dasha Vitaliev, actually, and I wanted to know where Polo was—the penthouse or the club. Since it’s in the middle of the afternoon on a Friday, I suspect it’s the club, but you might want to give him a call to find out where exactly it is that I can find him.”
The man snapped to attention. “I’ll call right away, Ms. Vitaliev, to let him know you’re on your way.” By the time he’d slipped a card key into the elevator panel behind him, he already had a phone to his ear and was talking quietly. When the elevator doors rattled open, he slipped the phone into his pocket and made a courtly gesture toward the empty elevator car. “Mr. Scorpeone will meet you there, Ms. Vitaliev. Have a nice day.”
Brute strength, killer instinct and lovely manners, I thought as the elevator zoomed upward. Polo trained his people well.
To my surprise, the doors in front of me didn’t open when the elevator came to a stop. Instead, what I thought was a wall behind me opened, and I found that I had been sent all the way up to the penthouse level instead. Just as I stepped out into the marble foyer with the lotus-scented fountain, the copper-plated double doors swung open on silent hinges to reveal Polo, wearing charcoal gray pants and a button-down aubergine-colored shirt that hugged his torso like a hungry lover.
I only hoped I could stop from panting out loud.
“I don’t suppose I get the luxury of lecturing you on opening your door to just anyone,” I began before he could speak. “Considering your man already told you it was just little ol’ me on the way up.”
“Not to mention I saw it was you on the video streaming from the elevator.”
I looked back at the now-closed doors. “You’ve got a came
ra in there?”
“I’ve got cameras everywhere. I like to know what’s going on around me at all times. What I don’t like,” he added, crossing to where I stood and taking my purse to set it aside before pulling me toward the open doors, “are surprises. I wasn’t expecting you.”
A shocking stab of hurt jolted through me, and I instantly began reversing course. “Oh. Guess I’ll leave, then.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Before I could get more than a step away, his hand tightened on mine and pulled me up against him. Then, just to be sure I understood I wasn’t going anywhere, his arms locked tight around me while my hands braced against the small boulders of his biceps. “What I meant was that when you show up unexpectedly, I start thinking something’s wrong and you’re looking for me to protect you. So I’m asking...is something wrong, and do you need me to protect you?”
“Oh.” That sounded a whole lot nicer than Polo not liking that I was there. By degrees I relaxed and tried not to sigh at the sensation of his rock-solid body branding itself into every pore of my flesh. “I just wanted to let you know that whatever you’ve been doing to get the word out that Chicago’s Future needed donations has worked in a big way. So thank you for that.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Cap Fogelmann of Private Security International says otherwise. And while I got the feeling you two don’t know each other personally,” I went on while his eyes widened, “he definitely knows of you. He was comfortable enough to use your name, and I have no doubt he was certain I’d tell you all about his personal visit.”
“No doubt,” he muttered.
“Whatever you’ve been doing made Mr. Fogelmann take a hard look at Chicago’s Future. Apparently he liked what he saw, because he donated a top-of-the-line security system that’s going to be installed next week, and he personally dropped off a check that’s going to buy a lot of peanut butter, mac and cheese, cereal, bread, milk and diapers and shoes of all sizes for the next couple of months.”
An internal shutter went over his eyes and he digested this information before he nodded once. “I’ll be there when that security system is installed.”
That made my stomach tighten. “Are they not on the up and up?”
“It’s not that. Private Security International is one of the best security firms on the planet. They’re the guys that first-world governments hire to back up their own official security details.”
Wow. “Then what’s the problem?”
“I don’t like anyone who’s not me taking an interest in your security. If I watch them do it, and I know who’s on the other end of that camera feed, I’ll be happy.”
That made sense. “I got a good vibe from Cap Fogelmann. He seemed very no-nonsense, and very transparent about why he was there. For what it’s worth, I didn’t feel threatened.”
“As usual, your instincts are right on. Cap Fogelmann is the real deal. Retired military, a lifer with a shitload of commendations and medals. He’s one of the official good guys of the world. He employs a bunch of similar-minded, gung-ho ex-military personnel, and one of those guys happens to be a buddy of mine. But you might say that just about everyone at PSI has had their sights set on me at one point or another.”
“With you, that could mean anything.”
His shrug didn’t clear up matters any. “Is that why you showed up here? You thought one of my enemies was trying to send me a message through you?”
“No. Or, if that’s the case, I can only hope that all your enemies are nice enough to send you a message by donating expensive gifts and vast sums of money to Chicago’s Future.”
“Yeah, that’s probably not going to happen.”
“Thought as much.”
His arms tightened. “So, you dropped in for a visit just because you felt like it? You weren’t missing me, were you, Fearless? It’s been a week since we last saw each other, after all.”
“Don’t be silly.” Then his statement made me do a double-take. “Wait. You weren’t trying to make me miss you, were you?’
“Whether I was trying or not, it worked. You came to me. Can’t tell you how much I like that.”
How aggravating could a man get? “I came here to find out if you had anything to do with that whole fiasco Tiffany Stoddard-Fanning’s husband got himself into earlier this week.” When he simply stared at me, I blew out a gusty sigh. “I know, I know. You’re not a magician, or Machiavelli, and you’ve retired to live the quiet life, blah, blah, blah.”
“So why are you asking me about it?”
“It’s just that her husband’s scandal came along at just the right time to knock my police raid off the radar. That’s why I was wondering if you had anything to do with it.”
“First, I need to say loud and clear that I don’t have any fucking interest in socialites or their dumbass husbands who think they can get away with whatever the fuck they want because they’re richer than God. I don’t give two shits about what those people get up to behind closed doors. In fact, I don’t give two shits about what anyone gets up to behind closed doors. It’s none of my business.”
I began to relax. “Good.”
“That being said, after watching that asshole fuck those two bimbos he hired to be his so-called ‘drug reps,’ I began to feel sorry for the rich bitch waiting for him at home like she’s fucking Carol Brady. A faithful woman deserves better than a self-absorbed, cheating asshole.”
I stared at him in mounting horror. “So you did have something to do with it.”
“Not really, no. I may have had a man on him at the time.”
“A man?”
“Yeah. Someone ready to let the rich bitch know that her bigwig pharmaceutical hubs was at a hotel with some bitches, doing trippy recreational shit along with the legit fuck-me pills they were popping like candy. And yeah, the man I had in place was going to be instructed to let the world know what her bigwig hubs was up to if she didn’t keep her trap shut about you. But as for what happened next...” He shook his dark head. “That was completely beyond my control. Honest to God, even I was shocked, and that’s saying something.”
I began to push against his arms again. “You went way too far trying to protect me, Polo. You ruined the marriage of totally innocent people just so I could skate away from a possible scandal.”
“What the fuck? I ruined their marriage?” Instead of letting me go, his hold on me tightened until my ribs creaked. “Listen up, because I’m not going to say this again.”
“Polo—”
“No, you’re going to listen. I didn’t hold a fucking gun to that prick’s head and make him take so much shit he forgot where the fuck he was and who the fuck he was sticking his dick into. And even if I hadn’t already put a man at that hotel, that cheating asshole’s naked-and-unafraid escapades would have gone viral anyway, considering everyone had their phones out recording that happy hard-on. So nice try, laying that doomed marriage on my doorstep, but I’m not having any of it. It was doomed long before I ever got there.”
I took a breath and held it until the urge to punch him had passed. “The way things turned out, you’re absolutely right. I can’t blame you for that asshole not being able to keep it in his pants.”
“Damn straight.” Then his eyes narrowed. “Why do I feel a but coming on?”
“But,” I confirmed, nodding, “the fact is by sending a man there, you were going above and beyond the call in trying to protect me. That’s not your job anymore.”
“You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
“I’m just saying it’s not your job—”
“Fuck that, I don’t have to get paid to protect you, do you understand? I’m not doing it for a goddamn paycheck. I’m not doing it out of force of habit. And I’m sure as fuck not doing it because I feel obligated to your father, or the Vitalievs, or whatever the hell else that brain of yours comes up with.”
“Okay.” Confused, I tilted my head to the side as if that would someho
w help me see what angle he was working. “You’ve got me. Why do you keep trying to protect me?”
“Jesus. Why are the cute ones always so stupid?” Before I could respond to that crazy-making, compliment-wrapped insult, his hand clamped around the nape of my neck and pulled me in to meet his mouth.
While I was still feeling the sting of his words, there was no denying the fact that Polo was an expert kisser. The kind of expert that could take the stand in a court of law. He could teach classes on how to make a woman feel cherished by the single-minded intensity he poured into the melding of lips. He brought a heat to the mating of mouths that I’d never experienced before, until I couldn’t remember any other kiss but his. The heat he created burned all other memories away.
In my world, only Polo’s kiss existed.
All the tension slid out of my body, leaving me as pliant as warm wax. I leaned into him, flowing against the hard plains and curves of his frame as if I needed to brand the imprint of his body onto my skin. In a way, I did. Even when we were apart, I wanted to be able to feel him against me, like he was made for me, just as I was made to fit against him. I pressed into his chest so I could better feel the heavy thud of his heart, and my mind spun at the pleasure of my breasts flattening against his chest.
So good. So, so good...
A low growl rumbled deep in his throat, thrilling me, and I knew he was just as enthralled with the sensation as I was. His arms tightened around me so fiercely my feet almost lifted off the ground, and the invasion of his tongue was suddenly beyond demanding. It was as though he wanted to devour me.
That worked for me.
I pushed under the tight band at his nape until it gave way, and the cool silk of his loosened hair tumbled through my fingers. For as long as I’d known him, his espresso-dark hair had been pulled away from his face, restrained, not a single strand out of place. Like him, always kept under absolute control. Now, they were both free.