Page 6 of Scorned Beauty (Scorned Fate #5)

Chapter

Five

Sloane

“Meow.”

Ginger detested the cat carrier, and she made her displeasure known. After breakfast, Dom and I headed to the animal rescue center and picked up a former neighbor’s cat.

We used Dom’s Escalade because my van was being temperamental. Besides the groceries, Dom asked his minions to deliver him a car and clothes. Another glaring difference in our lifestyles. I didn’t get to order people to do my bidding. I was the hired help.

If I had used Ginger to gauge Dom’s likability, he’d have failed instantly. She hissed at Dom on sight, and Dom returned her reaction with equal distaste, as though Ginger was vermin.

A sadistic idea teased me about locking them in a room together. May the best asshole win.

You see, Ginger had a cattitude. She was independent, feisty, and had a problem with authority.

But I was looking forward to getting my first Dom-delivered orgasm.

In fact, I questioned my sanity for delaying gratification, since it was obvious Dom was dying to bend me over the table and fuck me senseless.

I questioned whether my little breakfast table could handle the promise of vigorous activity.

I was no shrinking violet. I loved a hard fuck.

I would be extremely disappointed if Dom didn’t leave me with a few bruises.

And that was probably why I wanted to torture him. Dom seemed like a guy who thrived on challenges and the harder you denied him, the harder he’d punish you. And I was looking forward to the punishment.

But I also knew men could be touchy about their ride, so I didn’t want Ginger distracting Dom by destroying his leather seats. This cat was vindictive enough to let me know that A) She despised being left in a shelter and B) She didn’t trust Dom.

You and me both, girl, but he might be the salvation to my Sahara-dry vagina , which had certainly gotten its fair share of rainfall since Dom showed up yesterday.

And when you were parched, any kind of water would do, even when it was bad for you.

“Meow.”

Dom glanced at me. “You can let her out.”

“No, she’s fine in there.”

“So, why are we going to Delphine again? Your neighbor?”

“My visit with Harriet was cut short yesterday,” I told him.

I had been with her when Grigori summoned me.

Ginger was her cat, but ever since my neighbor had to go into assisted living, Harriet’s friend at the shelter tried to rehome the cat with no success.

I was Ginger’s last hope, although if I were to voice my opinion, Ginger didn’t need an owner.

She was perfectly fine roaming the catwalk in our building to visit different tenants.

“Actually, you saved me a trip to the grocery store.”

“Let me get this straight. You shop for other people, but not for yourself?” he asked. The Escalade reached a stoplight.

“Harriet’s not other people, she’s family.”

“You’re not related.”

“Not all family is blood. You should know that better than anyone. She was there for us when Dad left and the first time Billy had to go to rehab.”

“How long ago was that?”

I was uncomfortable with Dom’s probing questions. I mean, I didn’t ask him about the skeletons in his closet, and I was sure he had more than a few, probably even literal ones.

When the light turned green, I still hadn’t answered him.

He realized I wasn’t planning to and remained quiet for the rest of the drive.

But I felt like I needed to make things clear to Dom.

I did not know what possessed me to have him tag along, although instinctively, I knew he would insist on coming along and I was saving myself the energy of arguing with him.

“I agreed to this weekend, but I think our private lives should remain off-limits.”

This time, it was Dom who didn’t answer me. Since it was Saturday, the tiny parking lot of the assisted living facility was at full capacity and he had to drive around to look for street parking. He slid into a spot a street over.

I waited until he cut off the engine before I brought it up again. “Tell me you’re clear about that, or you can forget any chance of getting into my pants.”

In answer, he shot me a dark, measured look. “I’m going to find out what made you put up such walls and I’m going to enjoy breaking them down.”

“Are we clear?”

“You don’t want me to meet your neighbor.”

“Her name is Harriet.”

“You’re confusing me, woman. Do you want to keep our private lives separate or not? That’s why I didn’t use your neighbor’s name, but you also insisted I meet your cat.”

“Ginger will be coming home with me today. I need to make sure she’s fine with a man she’s never met in the confines of my apartment.”

“So you’re hinging your promised orgasms on a cat.”

I laughed.

“Okay…” He raked his teeth over his bottom lip. “How are you going to bring in the groceries and the cat to visit Harriet without making two trips?”

He had a point.

“Don’t let pride get in the way of common sense,” Dom added. “I don’t want any awkward introductions to Harriet about my presence. You can say I was simply a decent human being who found you struggling with the shopping bags and the cat carrier.”

And with that zinger, Dom left me in the SUV, sitting in my embarrassment.

Just a little. I was sure his ego could handle a bit of jostling.

This is self-preservation , I told myself, although his threat of breaking down my walls rang little alarm bells in my head.

He was getting presumptuous that I would give him my time past this weekend.

I grabbed Ginger’s crate while Dom carried the groceries.

I’d spent less than twenty-four hours with this man, but we were behaving like a domesticated couple.

Unlike his suit yesterday, Dom had on a fatigue-colored henley tucked in dark blue jeans.

He was wearing scuffed leather boots. He left his leather jacket in the SUV.

His eyes were shaded by aviators. Despite his attire, he was still a far cry from pedestrian traffic on an early weekend morning.

No, his entire vibe suited the night prowls.

“Not how you expected to spend your Saturday morning.” I leaned in closer so only he could hear. “No criminal empire to run?”

His mouth twitched in amusement. “I’m taking a break. The empire is in good hands.”

“I hear you have an office at the De Lucci Transnational offices. Do you go in?”

“I attend board meetings just like any executive.” He walked in relaxed, confident strides I tried to match by walking twice as fast.

“Executive, huh? So what’s your title?”

“Director of Operations.”

“Really?” I laughed lightly. “That has a broad meaning.”

“In short, I get shit done.”

We made the trek to the Delphine building with small talk, coming to a mutual truce of sorts, and stayed away from touchier subjects.

As I’d discovered, Dom had an uncanny way of turning innocent conversation into pure sexual innuendo that rattled me.

I chanced a glance at him. I wished I had on shades to disguise my eyes because I couldn’t see his and discern his mood.

Poker face must be second nature to him with his position as don of the De Lucci crime family, and I had trouble reconciling that man with the man beside me, even from that man last night.

“How’s your side?”

“It’s fine,” he said shortly. “I hardly feel it.”

“I’ll look at it later.”

“I have plans for you later,” he promised.

When we arrived at Harriet’s room, I pushed open the door. “Look who’s here?”

I meant Ginger. My octogenarian former neighbor was on the sofa reading, but when she looked up, her eyes bypassed the cat carrier and zeroed in on Dom.

“Where do you want these?” he asked.

“You can drop them just inside the door—thanks for your help.”

I lowered the cat carrier so abruptly that Ginger complained. But I had to get Dom out of the room before Harriet asked him questions.

Dom had an amused tilt to his mouth as I hurriedly shoved him out. “Thanks again.” And slammed the door behind him.

Harriet, though, didn’t get to the age of eighty without wading through bullshit.

She got up slowly and hobbled over. She usually had a cane for longer distances, but shuffled around just fine in smaller spaces.

The past year, she’d moved to the Delphine Assisted Living Home because her mobility had deteriorated.

That, coupled with her emphysema from a lifetime of smoking, prevented her from independent living.

“Was he your emergency appointment yesterday?”

“Don’t be silly.” I let Ginger out and she immediately wrapped around Harriet and started purring. “Oh, she missed you.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“He saw me juggling the bags and Ginger’s crate and offered to help.”

“You’re full of nonsense, missy.”

My phone chimed. I ignored it.

“Aren’t you going to check your message?”

“I have no pressing matters to attend to, so it can’t be important. If it’s Billy, he’s on his own.”

“You shouldn’t judge your brother that harshly.”

Billy was a sore subject between us. I felt resentful for how Harriet had such compassion for my brother when he screwed up over and over.

He was the reason why I nearly missed a payment for Harriet’s stay at Delphine, because Billy somehow overspent his cut of the deal he made between the Russians and the Albanians.

If it weren’t for Sandro and Bianca and the jobs they threw my way with a generous tip that was more than what the job cost, I wouldn’t have been able to resume nursing school and keep up with the Delphine payments.

“He’s the reason why I’m still at nursing school, eight years later. ”

“The cleaning job pays, though.”

I caught myself from lashing out. Harriet never asked for my help. I offered it. I loved helping people who had no expectations. That was probably why every scrape that Billy found himself in was like nails on a chalkboard because he expected me to bail him out.