He knew Natalia was being deliberately mocking right now. Admittedly, it was preferable to her looking at and treating him so coldly. But it was hard for him to part from her when things were so…tense between them. The last thing he wanted was for the two of them to part as enemies rather than friends.
Then maybe I should have thought of that last night before I made love to her?
More importantly, he should have considered more thoroughly, rather than reacting in that knee-jerk way, the implications of bringing in Jericho to replace him.
Because in future, his cousin would be the one to accompany Natalia everywhere, to sit beside her on the plane and share a suite and have breakfast with her every morning when they were traveling. To accompany Natalia everywhere.
Where did that leave Killian?
Initially cooling his heels on a private island in the Bahamas, and after that, accompanying Leon and his wife back to New York. Once there, he would spend most of his time in the city with Leon and only go to the Brunelli estate at the weekends. The chances of Killian seeing Natalia while he was there would depend on her, and from the way she was looking at him now, with a combination of anger and disdain, he didn’t think she was going to be eager to see him again any time soon.
“I’m really sorry—”
“I don’t want your apology!” She wrenched her arm out of his grasp, no doubt bruising herself in the process. “Get out.” Her gaze was cold with dismissal. “I can’t stand to look at you any more right now.”
He flinched. “I never meant to hurt you—”
“No?” Her eyes flashed her anger. “Then next time you don’t want to hurt someone, I suggest you keep your hands in your pockets and your cock in your boxers. Definitely don’t spent the night in bed with the person you never meant to hurt.”
“Oops, I guess it isn’t time for me to return yet,” Jericho muttered from the doorway.
“On the contrary.” Natalia turned to him. “Your timing is perfect for you to escort your cousin out of my hotel suite.”
Sweet fecking hell, how twisted was it that right now all Killian wanted to do was bend Natalia over the arm of the couch, spank her arse until it was red and stinging, before taking his cock out of his boxers and thrusting it inside her dripping wet pussy?
His jaw clenched. “Leave, Jericho.”
“Stay exactly where you are.” Natalia spoke to his cousin, but her challenging gaze remained fixed on Killian. “I think, of the three of us, I’m currently the one with the authority.” She turned to Jericho. “Which is why I’m now instructing you to throw out—”
“Don’t you dare call me trash!” Killian’s hands were clenched at his sides. “If you do, I don’t care who the feck else is in the room, I’m going to spank your arse until you won’t be able to sit down for a week!”
For too many years, Killian had known exactly what it was to be the son of Jimmy Price, a minion in the Irish Mob. Frowned upon. Scorned. Treated like trash. Killian didn’t care how wrong his behavior had been last night, he wasn’t going to take being treated like that ever again, by Natalia or anyone else.
“—your cousin,” Natalia finished firmly. “I would never talk about you in such derogatory terms,” she assured Killian softly.
“No?” He towered over her ominously.
“No,” she confirmed.
Natalia knew the basics of Killian’s past from her father, how he’d grown up on the streets of Belfast as the son of a man who had been shot and killed by a member of his own organization, the Irish Mob. She knew that Jericho’s father had also suffered the same fate, which was why all the Price cousins had escaped Ireland as soon as they were able to do so.
Yes, she knew those things about Killian’s past, but she had no way of relating to them. How could she when she’d grown up as the much-loved daughter of Leon Brunelli, capo dei capi of the Italian Mafia?
She searched Killian’s face, easily recognizing the hurt in his eyes and the bleakness of his expression. “But I’m guessing someone else has in the past.” She was the one who this time placed her hand on his forearm. “No matter how angry I am with you, and be assured right now I’m very angry, I would never talk about you in such an insulting way.”
“Fine.” His jaw remained clenched. “And I don’t need anyone to escort me anywhere. I can see myself out.”
She reached out. “Killian—”
“Take your fecking hand off me,” he warned her between gritted teeth, the coldness in his expression telling her not to even attempt to talk to him again right now.
Natalia lifted and removed her hand before dropping it to her side. “I thank you sincerely for your years of protecting me.”
“Until last night.”
“Until last night,” she agreed heavily.
He grasped her hands lightly in his. “Listen to Jericho, hmm?” he encouraged gruffly. “I need you to stay safe.”
Perhaps Killian’s way had been the best after all, and he should have left before the two of them saw or had chance to speak to each other again this morning.
Because this, parting from Killian and knowing they would never have this closeness again, one she’d taken so much for granted during the past two years, was breaking her heart.
Once Killian became head of her father’s security detail, the two of them probably wouldn’t meet that often. Oh, her father stayed at the family estate most weekends, but because of the state-of-the-art security system in place and the security detail on duty there twenty-four-seven, their personal bodyguards weren’t necessary.
Yes, this was probably the last time she was going to be able to see and talk to Killian in quite this way.
She gave his hands a brief squeeze. “You stay safe too.”
His smile was rueful. “I’m going to be sunning myself on a beach in the Bahamas for the next three weeks.”
And when he returned to New York, it would be as lead of her father’s security team, not her own.
She attempted an encouraging smile. “Try not to get sunburned this time. I remember…” She broke off with a wince.
The two of them had a lot of history together, such as the time they’d been in Antigua and Killian had nagged her about remembering to put on suntan lotion but forgotten to put any on himself. He’d ended up with a blistering sunburn on his nose. Once Natalia knew he wasn’t going to be in too much pain, she hadn’t been able to control her amusement at his expense.
“Stay safe,” she said again as she moved up on tiptoe to place a chaste kiss on his cheek before releasing his hands and stepping back. “Have a good flight.” She needed him to leave now. Before she broke down and cried.
Killian continued to look at her wordlessly for several long minutes before nodding abruptly. “Remember who you are, and that Natalia Brunelli never takes shite from anyone. She’s the one who kicks ass, not the other way about.”
Natalia wasn’t sure whether he was talking about himself in that advice, or something or someone else.
Not that it mattered.
All that mattered to Natalia right now was that, after the two of them had shared intimacy and pleasure, Killian was choosing to leave her.
Chapter Ten
What the hell…?
Killian was dragged from the depths of whisky-induced sleep by the irritating ringtone of his cell phone. Natalia had programmed it in months ago, and Killian hadn’t had the heart or inclination to change it in the three months since he’d taken himself off her security detail. Now, every time a call came in, it played that damned song and reminded him painfully of Natalia.
Not that he’d forgotten her for a moment. She wasn’t the sort of woman one could forget.
But he could have at least changed the ringtone on his cell phone to stop these several-times-a-day reminders, so why hadn’t he?
Because he was a sap. Pussy-whipped. Over a woman who, in the past three months, had shown him time and time again she had no interest in him whatsoever.
; They hadn’t met often during those months, but whenever the two of them did chance to see each other, Natalia would give him a polite smile or a nod of her head, but otherwise, she hadn’t acknowledged he even existed.
On the surface of things, Killian’s transition to head of Leon’s personal security team had gone smoothly. Curiously, the older man had never asked him for any details regarding his request for that change, and Killian had never offered any.
At first, Killian had put calls through to Jericho every day, supposedly to see if there was any information his cousin needed from him, but in reality, it was so that Killian could make sure Natalia was doing okay. After a week of putting up with those calls, his cousin had told him to butt out and concentrate on his own charge rather than constantly checking up on Jericho’s.
Even so, Killian still called once a week for an update. Each time, Jericho told him that everything was just fine, thank you very much.
Not once had his cousin’s picture shown up on the screen of Killian’s cell phone as an incoming call.
Until now.
Killian moved to sit on the side of the bed. “What’s going on?” he demanded without preamble, his fingers tightly gripping his cell.
“I’m not sure.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Killian rose to his feet, all remnants of his previous hangover completely forgotten as he began to pace his bedroom in the London hotel where Leon was currently staying. He and his wife were visiting his niece, who also happened to be Carla’s best friend. That connection was how Leon and Carla had first met. “Is Natalia safe?”
“Yes, she’s safe.”
The tightness eased about his chest. “Then why the feck are you calling me at…” He glanced at his wristwatch. “…seven o’clock in the morning?”
“It’s eight o’clock in Paris,” Jericho snapped right back. “And I’m calling because I’m not sure what the hell is going on with Natalia right now and hoped you could give me some insight.”
His chest tightened again. “Jericho, I swear if you don’t soon get to the point of this call, I’m going to beat the everlasting shite out of you when we next meet.”
“You can try,” his cousin drawled, both men knowing they were evenly matched when it came to strength and the dirty tricks necessary to win when the former didn’t cut it.
Except right now, Killian had an edge on both those things, created by his concern for Natalia. “Start from the beginning,” he instructed tersely.
“Okay, so as I said, we’re in Paris right now. We arrived yesterday, and last night, Natalia attended one of those fashion shows she likes to go to.” The boredom of having to attend them too was clear in Jericho’s voice.
Paris. Fashion show. Asselin?
Killian felt a cold dread settle in his chest. “What happened?”
“As I said, I’m not sure. Natalia had lunch with her friends Amelie and Dominique, then last night, she met up with them again so they could attend the fashion show together. They drank champagne and mingled and then sat together to watch the show. I didn’t see anyone approach her or spike her drink—”
“Why the feck would you think someone spiked her drink?” he demanded furiously.
“Possibly because Natalia’s behavior has been off since last night,” his cousin bit back.
“In what way?” Killian swore, if Jericho didn’t soon get to the fecking point, he was going to forego the beating and simply strangle his cousin the next time he saw him.
“She made her excuses and left the show early. She didn’t say a word on the way back to the hotel, then locked herself in her bedroom the moment we entered our hotel suite. Breakfast has already been delivered, but she’s refusing to come out of her bedroom to eat it and didn’t want me to take any to her. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t been to bed because I’ve heard her muttering and pacing most of the night. I think I heard her crying once or twice too,” he added heavily. “And we both know something serious has to have happened for Natalia to cry about it.”
A nerve pulsed in Killian’s tensed jaw. “Did she speak to Asselin last night?”
“The count guy?”
“Yes.”
“No. But I believe one of the collections on show last night was his. Everyone was discussing what a sensation it was,” he dismissed in that same bored voice.
Killian snorted his impatience with the Frenchman’s continued success. “You’re sure Natalia didn’t speak to him?”
It was almost possible to feel Jericho’s growing impatience as Killian’s questions continued to cast doubt on his efficiency as her bodyguard.
Jericho’s snapped reply confirmed that growing frustration. “I’m fecking positive.”
That didn’t mean Natalia hadn’t seen Asselin, possibly with another woman, if she was as upset as Jericho claimed she was. Which meant she was still in love with the Frenchman.
Killian gave a heavy sigh. “What do you want me to do about any of this, Jericho?”
“I was hoping for some insight into what I should do! You know Natalia. You spent two years protecting her, were able to discern her every mood. So tell me what the hell this one means?”
“I have no idea,” he bit out tersely. “Probably because I’m not her bodyguard anymore.”
“That was your choice, not hers,” Jericho reminded.
“I told you, I stepped over the bodyguard/client line—”
“If you stepped over it, then from what I overheard the morning I took over, so did Natalia, and she didn’t seem in the least upset about it until you behaved like a complete eejit,” his cousin derided. “What I saw in Natalia the morning I took over from you was hurt, not anger. You went behind her back, man, and arranged for me to take over as her security detail without even discussing it with her first. After spending the night in bed with her. She had every right to be angry enough to want to rip your balls off and feed them to you.”
Killian winced. “Very graphic.”
“You know I’m right. You care for her, Killian. Why else would you have been such a pain in my arse by calling me all the time, supposedly for ‘an update’ on Natalia’s security?” he scorned. “I took over from you as Leon’s lead bodyguard two years ago when he put you in charge of Natalia’s detail. I don’t recall you ever phoning and asking me for an update on how things were going with him.”
Because he hadn’t. He trusted Jericho completely when it came to protecting their principals. As for calling for an update on Leon… Killian respected the hell out of Leon as a man and a father, and the two of them had got along well enough during the years Killian had been the lead on protecting the other man. But Killian had known where he was truly meant to be once he took over as Natalia’s personal bodyguard.
And three months ago, I handed her security over to Jericho and walked away.
No, I didn’t walk away, I ran.
And he’d been miserable ever since, needing whisky to help him sleep at night and only going through the motions of doing his job during the day. Leon’s and Carla’s safety was paramount, and his diligence on their behalf didn’t waver. But a part of Killian was always wondering how and where Natalia was.
And if she missed him as much as he missed her.
“I think you need to get your sorry arse over here right now and find out what the feck is going on with Natalia. Maybe an apology from you for past behavior wouldn’t be amiss either,” Jericho added speculatively.
“I can’t just leave Leon here in London and fly to Paris—”
“Leon already approved it.”
He drew in a sharp breath. “What the hell! Jericho, have you lost your mind, to contact my principal without my permission?”
“Turns out Leon is as worried about Natalia, and you, as I am.” The shrug could be heard in Jericho’s unapologetic tone.
“Me?” Killian was nonplussed. He knew he’d been distracted lately, but never to the detriment of Leon’s or Carla’s safety. “When the hell did you speak to Leon
about me?”
“He calls me all the time. In fact, he’s called a couple of times this week already. Apparently, you’re shite company and disappear into your room as soon as you’re sure Leon is settled in for the night,” his cousin taunted. “At least he could look forward to having a decent game of poker with me.”
Killian bristled. “He’s a newly married man. I assumed he would want me out of the way as soon as possible in the evenings.”
“Oh, he does,” Jericho confirmed mildly. “But Carla has spent several afternoons shopping with Grace this week, and you’ve blown Leon off when he’s suggested getting together for a game.”
Killian scowled. “I don’t appreciate the two of you discussing me behind my back.”
“Then get your head out of your arse and maybe we would both be able to speak to your face.”
“About what?”
Jericho gave a humorless snort. “You are such an idiot.”
“I don’t appreciate—”
“Will you just for once in your life listen?” All humor had left Jericho’s voice. “It’s pretty obvious that you love her, man.” His voice softened. “Maybe not to everyone, but certainly to me.”
Killian tightly gripped the cell phone. “And Leon?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Feck.”
“He hasn’t sacked you, so I’m guessing he doesn’t disapprove.”
“Or he just knows, as I do, that it’s a lost cause and not worth losing a trained bodyguard over.”
“Leon has never treated us as if we’re just employees to him,” Jericho reproved.
No, he hadn’t. Ten years ago, Leon had personally welcomed every member of the Price family into the Brunelli organization. During the course of those ten years, he’d given them his unwavering trust and friendship as well as employment.
And Killian had repaid that friendship by seducing—
“Natalia has changed the last three months.” Jericho cut in on those tortuous thoughts.
Killian (Dance with the Devil 3) Page 8