Chapter 10

He sat behind the wheel, his fingers drumming on the padded leather. He had arrived at the restaurant two minutes ago and was trying to calm himself down enough not to overreact. The parking lot was crowded with lunchtime patrons, and the valets had their hands full.

He had been there several times with Sophia, where they had dined al fresco, and she had exclaimed how much she loved sitting outside beneath the stars.

The flash of memory irritated him enough to deepen his frown. It was almost the end of a harsh winter, even though it felt like the season was finally taking a slow and winding path to leave.

Overhanging palms were dripping with the water from the recent rain, which had washed away the snow. He had lied to Ryleigh, at least by omission. He had not revealed to her that he was familiar with the defendant or whatever he was now.

I am more than familiar with him. In another life, they had been best friends and gang members. The memory of that had him opening the car and getting out. He had refused the valet parking, preferring to do it himself, which gave him time to think.

He had shed his suit jacket, necessary for today's meetings, and removed his tie. He had also loosened the three top buttons of his baby blue shirt and was wearing an ink-black cashmere outer jacket, the fine material warding off the cold.

He had not bothered to button it up but left it flapping behind him as he made his way through the double glass doors and into the marble foyer, where he was greeted with a flirty smile by the hostess behind the counter.

With only a curt nod, he told her he was meeting someone and said the name. Without question, he was escorted into the ruby and gold interior and straight to where Marvin Daley lounged behind a circular table, idly sipping a glass of red wine.

He had come up in the world, Flynn thought sardonically. They both had. From experience, he knew that to get a reservation at this particular eatery, one had to see the owner or be willing to wait for months to step inside its lofty interior.

It was the former for Flynn and would be the latter for Daley unless he had slipped a ton of cash to someone. He saw when the man noticed him, the guarded surprise flitting over his face as he rose, the snowy white napkin clutched in his left hand. And he was not alone.

Two men standing guard moved forward threateningly as he walked purposefully towards the table. The bulge in their waists was unmistakable.

"Call off your dogs," Flynn ordered and, without breaking strides, pulled out the opposite chair and sat down.

With a nod, Marvin did just that, a slow smile touching his lips. "If you had called, I would have made the reservation for two."

"I don't eat with scum, it's bad for digestion." He made note of the furious glitter in the man's eyes before it was deliberately tamped down.

"Now, Flynn, what kind of greeting is that from an old friend?" Sitting back down, Marvin reached for his glass of wine. "Or have you become too high and mighty that you somehow think you are better than me?"

"Not think. Know." Flynn's amber gaze swept over him dismissively. "An expensive suit and two hoodlums guarding your back do not make you into a human being, Marvin. Underneath the Brioni suit and expensive Romano's watch, you are still a street rat and always will be."

This time, the anger was more defined by the man's tightened mouth and flexed fingers on the slender stem of the glass.

"I don't have to sit here and take insults from the likes of you. I need to enjoy my lunch in peace."

"I have a warning for you."

Marvin's eyebrows lifted in forced amusement. "Warning?"

"Yes, you piece of shit. Others might fear you because you somehow manage to give them the impression that you are someone to fear. But I know better." Flynn leaned forward, ignoring the men who were resting their hands on the butt of their weapons.

"I knew you when you were scrounging through the trash and wetting your bed when your old man used to beat the shit out of you. I know the real Marvin Daley, and I remain unimpressed."

Dark brown eyes glittered. "You would dare to come here and confront me like this?"

"I would dare because you are nothing. The woman you hired your thugs to run off the road is of personal interest to me, and if there were any proof that you ordered the hit, I would be slitting your throat from ear to ear." The icy amber eyes had Marvin pressing back in the padded seat.

"I have no idea what the hell you are talking about. You have gone mad."

"Ryleigh Bogle. Does the name ring a bell?"

A smile touched the other man's lips as he stared at him. "Ah, the high and mighty Flynn Zimmermann has gone soft over a skirt. But weren't you recently engaged to some society princess who dumped you for your uncle?" He tutted.

"Imagine both of you panting after the same woman. She must have been a contortionist in bed. Perhaps I should find out for myself. What do you think?"

"Do whatever the hell you want," Flynn told him icily. "But if you even walk on the same side of the road as Ryleigh, even breathe in her direction, I am coming after you." he bared his teeth in a parody of a smile that had the other man pressing back in the chair.

"I am giving you fair warning. I am coming after you if she even stubs her toe on the pavement. Is that clear?" He leaned closer. "And you know more than anyone what I am capable of, don't you?"

Picking up the glass of wine, he poured the contents into the bowl of shrimp salad the man had been enjoying. Pushing back his chair, he rose. "Consider yourself warned."

With a scornful look at the two men standing behind their boss, he turned and walked out.

"Should we go after him, boss?" The one with the bulging shoulders asked in a whisper. "What the hell for?" Flinging down the napkin, Marvin reached for his glass of water and downed the content in one gulp. His heart was pounding so hard inside his chest that he felt as if he was having a stroke, and his armpits were moist.

How dare that bastard threaten him! People shivered at the sound of his name. He ruled his kingdom with a steel rod, and no one - absolutely no one- spoke to him that way, so he got away with it. He would be dead before he knew what hit him.

But he knew that Flynn was different. He was terrifying, and even when they were teenagers, everyone held him in the highest esteem. It was nothing he ever said or even anything he did, but he always had a way with him. He did not have to say a word to get his point across.

Marvin had used violence to put the fear of God in people who crossed him, but Flynn never had to do that. Gripping the napkin, he glared at the empty doorway and wondered what he would do about his former playmate and girlfriend.

*****

"I am so happy you could meet me for lunch." Julia looked at the older woman curiously. "Flynn told me what happened to you, and I am still shivering at the thought of what could have happened to you. Have they any leads on the culprits yet?"

"No." Ryleigh shook her head as she reached for her bowl of vegetables. She had taken the day off from work, briefly filling Rosalyn in with the details of what had happened to her. She had been ordered to take the rest of the week off, and her protests had fallen on deaf ears.

"I don't want to hear it, Ryleigh." The woman had told her firmly. "My God, you could have been killed."

"The police are still investigating. My vehicle has been impounded to aid in the investigation."

"I see Flynn has lent you one of his vehicles." Julia was pleased with the turn of events. Her son had finally told her that his relationship with Ryleigh had progressed.

"Just keep it to yourself for now." He warned. "She does not want anyone to know about us yet."

"He has." Ryleigh busied herself with her meal and avoided the woman's eyes. Flynn had told her his mother knew about them, but she did not want to give the woman hope. She had no idea what it was between them and refused to ponder it.

Lifting her eyes to look at Julia, she added. "I don't want you to read anything about what is happening between us."

"My dear, I am pleased with how things turn out."

"It's not a relationship." She hated to burst the woman's bubble, but she respected and liked Julia and did not want her to have high hopes about something that would not last after she delivered the baby.

The sex was convenient, and she was woman enough to admit that it was the best she had ever had, but the fact remained that after the baby was born, they would both be going their separate ways. She was not in the market for a relationship, and that was that.

"My son spends his nights with you." Julia pointed out with equanimity, a knowing expression on her lovely face. "And he is happy. I never thought he would be again after the incident with that woman and my brother."

Ryleigh refused to be flattered or react at all. "I am sure it's the fact that he will be holding his baby in his arms in several months. It has nothing to do with me."

"Is that really what you think?" The quiet voice had her squirming on the chair. The restaurant was not complete, something she was grateful for. After the harrowing experience of the night before, she had wanted to stay home and just relax. She still had the bruises, and her ribs were hurting.

"I don't want to talk about it." She said firmly, shaking her head as the woman opened her mouth to say something else. "Let's talk about the doctor's report."

*****

"You cooked."

"I cooked," she glanced at him. "Don't look so surprised. I can cook; I just never have the time to do so."

"It smells good." He had called and said he was on his way, and she had disengaged the alarm and left the door unlocked. She had to admit that his presence made her feel safe and secure, and she was becoming accustomed to having him here.

"What is it?"

"Beef stew." Dipping the wooden spoon into the thick liquid, she took a careful sip and decided it needed more seasoning. "Lots of vegetables."

"Good." He had shed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.

"What can I do?"

"Set the table. I bought French loaf to go with the stew." She nodded to the breadbasket. "And I made a salad."

"Where are we having the meal?"

"The dining room. I think it's time I made use of it."

They worked together in companionable silence. After she finished preparing the meal, he set the table with the snowy white tablecloth and her finest china. He also brought out the salad bowl and the wicker breadbasket. She insisted on him having wine with his dinner while she poured herself a glass of fruit punch.

"Your mother and I had lunch."

He looked up from the stew he was enjoying.

"What did she want?"

"The usual report on the pregnancy." Ryleigh took a bite of the delectable beef. "And to tell me how delighted she is with how things have progressed between us. I could tell from her expression that she expects to hear wedding bells soon. I had to disabuse her of that train of thought."

"What did you tell her?" Not by any change of expression did he hint at what was going through his mind.

"I told her that it was just something physical between us and she should not expect anything."

"I see."

He just said those two words, but it was like he had told an entire sentence. His face was expressionless, and he was still calmly eating his meal, but the silence spoke volumes.

"Isn't it?" She felt compelled to ask as the silence stretched out further.

"You are going to have to be more specific."

"It's just a physical relationship between us. That's what you said in the initial stage."

She tore off a piece of the fragrant bread and dipped it into her stew. "We both agreed-"

"We did."

"So there."

"You are getting defensive," he pointed out.

"I am not!"

"I think you are."

"I am-" It suddenly occurred to her that she was behaving like the guilty party and proving him right. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself and continued eating. "We were burnt by people who were supposed to love us; it's no sense making that mistake again."

"You already explained yourself." He told her coolly.

"Look-"

"Would you mind if we enjoyed the meal in silence?"

Glaring at him and inwardly fuming at his flippant behavior, she lapsed into silence and finished eating.

He helped her clear the table, shrugging noncommittally when she told him she had forgotten to pick up dessert. She washed while he rinsed, and very soon, the kitchen was spic and span. They made the ascent up the stairs, where she started to undress.

She was finished before him and sat on the edge of the bed, watching as he took off his expensive Italian loafers and silk socks before getting rid of his pants.

"We need to talk," he announced as soon as he removed his shirt. Despite herself, she felt her heart pumping and her body tensing.

"Okay."

Instead of coming to join her on the bed, he stayed where he was, amber eyes trained on her face.

"I should have told you this initially."

"You are married." She tried to joke, but it came out as a paltry attempt.

Instead of addressing it, he went straight to the point. He had spent the entire afternoon questioning the wisdom of confronting Daley and wondered how he would tell her about his past. "I know him."

A frown touched her brow as she stared at him for clarification.

"Daley. I know him."

"I have no doubt that you do. He seems to be very popular."

He shook his head. "I have known him since we were children. We grew up together."

Her eyes widened as she stared at him in shock. "Pardon?"

"We grew up on the same street and attended the same school. We lived a few houses away from each other and became best friends."

Shaking her head, she wondered if she was dreaming or if this was a cruel joke. "You are friends with that- that murdering bastard."

"Was." he firmed his lips and continued. "We both had difficult childhoods. My old man had left when I was little, and he was-" he spread his hands wide. "Suffice it to say that the senior Daley was a drunkard who wasn't afraid to use his fists on both mother and son.

There was a period when we spent most of our time on the streets. We became best friends and eventually became part of a gang."

She blinked at that. "You were in a gang."

"Yes." he bit out. "We were foolish and lacked direction. My mother was working multiple jobs, and I had much free time. Maurice's home life was intolerable, and there were others like that. So, we became ‘blood brothers.'"

"And what did you do in this gang?"

"Petty things." He shrugged. "Hotwire cars hassled a few people - stole a few things. We were acting out, at least I was. It started when we were barely twelve and continued until high school. Then we got busted for breaking into a local store.

The sheriff knew my mother and decided to give us a lecture and a break. When I got home, Mother gave me more than a lecture; she hauled me up and gave me a few taps.

But it was the expression on her face that got to me. She was crying. I had never seen her cry before, no matter how hard we had it, and I decided there and then that I would make her proud." He paused, a faraway look on his face as if he was back in the past.

"Nothing was mentioned about your past gang affiliation." she finally said, breaking the silence.

"Excellent PR," he told her sardonically. "When I started making money, they insisted it would not look good to the American public, especially since Daley was also rising as a notorious kingpin. It would not do to have my name associated with his."

"You were no longer friends with him?"

He shook his head. "I decided to disband the gang, but he was not pleased. He wanted us to go on to bigger things, like robbing homes and terrorizing innocent people, and that was where I drew the line."

"Why are you telling me this now?"

He focused on her face, the bruises that had not yet faded. "I saw him today."

"Where?"

"His favorite restaurant. The Pearl."

"You had lunch there as well?"

He shook his head. "I sought him out. I knew he was there and went there to confront him."

She simply stared at him, going still at the implications of what he just said hit her. "You deliberately sought him out."

"I did. Yes."

"Because of me."

"Yes."

"What did you say to him?"

"I reminded him of who I was and that you are connected to me, and if he or anyone associated with him touches you again, there would be hell to pay." The flinty expression on his hard, handsome face sent shivers up and down her spine.

"Who gave you the right?"

He nodded in the general direction of her stomach. "The fact that you are carrying my baby does. I will not tolerate you being harassed."

"That's a polite way to put it." The sarcasm note in her voice was evident. "Considering that I was almost killed."

"And if there were proof, he wouldn't have been left standing." The expression on his face had turned murderous, and she found herself gripping the sheets.

"You are involved with a hoodlum, a career criminal, one who happens to be the focus of an intensive investigation, and you never said anything to me."

"I never thought it was relevant before now."

"And it's relevant now."

"Yes." he bit out. "He came after you, which does not sit well with me."

"You were friends with this man," her lips curled in disgust. "You formed a gang with him-"

"I am not going to make any excuses for my past." He told her heatedly, amber eyes flashing. "I made some mistakes, acknowledged them, and have since moved on. He was a friend who needed me at the time because of the situation at his home.

I offered my friendship, and we were important to each other for a time. I am no longer associated with him, and what he has become is abhorrent to me. I would rather you not judge me for what I did as a child."

She stared at him for a minute before rising.

"Where are you going?"

"To pee, if that's okay with you. Or should I consult you before doing so?"

"There is no need for that attitude."

She sent him a look that could have pulverized rocks before marching into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind her.

He sat there for a minute, his body tensed, and he wondered if she would continue being difficult about the entire thing. He was ashamed of that part of his life and rarely spoke about it. But she had to know. She might think they were not in a relationship, but he knew better.