Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Maddie

The cat does not like Roman.

I hide a smile. Cats can be like that. Selective in their allegiances. But in this case, Roman has opened his home to both of us and I need this kitty to make friends.

Especially because everyone assumed this cat was a boy… It’s not. It’s a girl, and I’m nearly certain she’s pregnant.

There are going to be baby kittens very soon. Not that I’m telling Roman that quite yet. I don’t want him dropping the cat on the nearest corner. Having the cat here makes me feel way more…

At home.

I give Roman a sleepy smile as he holds up two bags. “One for each of my guests.”

“Oh, thank you,” I murmur as I gently move the cat, who does not seem pleased to be shooed off my lap.

“Tom has taken to you, I see.” Roman sets down both bags and opens one.

“Tom?”

“The cat,” he answers. “He’s out from under the couch already.”

“The quiet helped,” I say, bending down, the smell of kitty litter hitting my nose as Roman pours it into the litter box.

He slides it on the other side of the couch and then reaches in and pulls out several cans of what I’m sure is cat food, and a bowl.

Tom lets out a loud meow. I give a little laugh.

“How much do I give him?”

“Half a can and one scoop of the dry,” I answer. Lucia has a cat, so I’ve got some points of reference. I’m glad Roman’s completing the task, though. It will help them bond.

Roman fixes the food but before he can even set the bowl on the floor, Tom is up on the counter, eating while Roman still fills the bowl. “Well, I guess keeping cats off the counters…”

“It’s not really a thing. Do you mind?”

“It’s fine,” he answers. “Now, for your bag.”

“Did you go to my place?” I ask moving toward him.

“No. I went to a store. Or more specifically, I went to a shop that will bring a bag out to my car. They specialize in comfortable yet stylish lounge wear. But I asked them to add a few dresses, just because you look amazing in that one.”

I feel my cheeks heat.

The truth is, clothes are one more area I’m not great in handling. Lucia buys most of my stuff since my grandmother died. My gran did it before that.

But thanks to Lucia, I’ve got cute hip-hugging jeans, and lots of soft cotton fitted shirts. Roman takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom.

I’m reminded in this moment that I’m not even wearing underwear. Mine were soaked this morning, and I’m not talking about the shower.

“Sit,” he commands as he leads me to the bed.

Then he begins pulling items out of the bag, handing them to me.

Soft tops, silky underwear, lacy bras slide across my hands. “Roman…” I have no idea how much he spent on all of this, but I can feel the quality.

He stops. “If you’re worried about the cost, don’t be.”

“Of course I’m worried about the cost.” I’ve never even had a boyfriend. People don’t just give me gifts. I’m holding a very soft sweater in my hands, the fabric so smooth as I crinkle it in my tightening fingers. It feels wrong to take gifts from this man. I can’t quite put my finger on why.

He steps closer to me, his fingers dancing along my jaw. “Maddie, it’s the least I can do. I’ve upended your whole life.”

“Technically, Vigo upended my whole life,” I whisper back. Now that man should buy me a whole new wardrobe. Not that I’d ever accept a gift from him.

Roman’s fingers slide around my neck and into my hair as he cradles my head in his very large hand. “That is very true.”

I give my throat a delicate clear. “I compiled a list of questions while you were gone.”

His fingers stiffen against my scalp. “What kind of questions?”

My throat tightens as a I take a deep breath. This is the man whose body was plastered to mine this morning. Asking him for a few details shouldn’t be weird. Except we don’t really know each other.

He drops into a squat, his face now below mine. “My name is Roman Kincaid. I am one of five owners of Kincaid Enterprises, worth billions of dollars. Our primary business is Las Vegas real estate. Apartment buildings, casinos, clubs. Our current project is to build a tunnel underneath Las Vegas, a feat of engineering that doesn’t disturb the skyscrapers above, while connecting several of our properties and the properties of some of our preferred associates.”

I blink in surprise, digesting these words. They make the picture a lot clearer. “Am I to assume that the tunnel does not connect to any of Vigo’s casinos?”

“It does not.”

My shoulders slump because Roman does not sound like a criminal. But he’s being hunted by one.

“And the offers on my house. Who made them? You?”

“Luke.”

“And why does he want it?”

Roman hesitates. “We need to vent the tunnel.”

“So the tunnel goes under my house?”

“That’s right.”

“And if I don’t sell?”

His hand slides down my arm until he’s grasping my fingers in his large hand. “Luke was in charge of the construction project, so I don’t have the details.”

My head pulls back. Luke, the man who was kidnapped. It makes so much sense. But in terms of Roman, it’s also very convenient that he’s not the man with the answers I seek. “What are you in charge of?”

“I run the casinos.”

My eyes close, my fingers still held in his. “Did you bring me here to convince me to sell?”

“That’s Luke’s department.”

“But you run the casinos. Your business is dependent on that tunnel.”

He doesn’t answer and I turn my head away, my eyes still closed. He’s not brought up the fact that his family has made several offers on my house, but my time alone, with a cat purring on my lap, brought some clarity.

Vigo mentioned me signing papers when he threatened to carry me off. “Vigo asked me out because of my house, didn’t he?”

“I couldn’t say.”

“If you were to guess?”

“I’d guess that you are correct.”

“Did you bring me here to convince me to buy my house?”

“I brought you here because your life was in danger. And because you saved mine.”

I want to believe him. I really do.

I draw in a deep breath of air, letting it out slowly. “My grandmother died last year.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

I shake my head. I wasn’t asking for sympathy. “I dropped out of college the year before to take care of her.”

“She was sick?”

“Dementia,” I softly whisper. The memories are still painful. Watching the strongest woman I know slip away was an experience that’s left deep wounds. “She raised me after my mom left.”

“Your mom left?” his voice is so soft, but I can still hear the pain in it.

“I’m a lot,” is all I answer. Who wants to fully share that she ditched out when she realized her daughter was blind.

His fingers lace through mine. “And your dad?”

“Never in the picture.” I shake my head. “The only person who stuck by me is my grandmother.”

“And that’s her house.”

I nod. “I grew up there. It’s been my home my entire life, and every nook and cranny reminds me of her.”

“That’s why you won’t sell.”

I shrug, knowing how much I’ve revealed. But I’ve held back too. Because there are things that Roman can only know when I trust him. Things that would allow him to take my house right out from under me. And that house is not just my tether to the world, it is my world. “I hope you understand.”

“I do. Perfectly.”