Page 91 of Dark Romeo

“Yes, you do.” He let out a grunt of exasperation. “Stop struggling or I will put you over my shoulder.” Again.

I flinched and fought a shiver as yet another memory assaulted my senses. Stupid, stupid body. Why wouldn’t you stop reacting to this infuriating man? He was frustrating and dangerous and totally off limits. Not to mention gorgeous and powerful, and underneath that gruff exterior I knew there was a caring soul.

The caring soul shoved me into the back of a cab and slammed the door. He leaned through the front window, startling the driver who looked like he’d been midway through a little nap.

“Carlos Pinto,” Roman said, tapping the plastic badge stuck against the dashboard. “I know your name, your taxi number. I could get your home address and the names of your family members just like that.” He snapped his thick fingers in the driver’s face.

“Stop threatening him,” I yelled. Roman needed another slap.

He stabbed a thick finger towards me. “Shut up and let me keep you alive.”

I slumped back into the cracked leather seat. The inside of the cab smelled like that fake pine smell.

Roman turned back to the driver, who was leaning away, pressing himself into the far window. If his window had been open, I bet he would have crawled out just to get as far away from Roman as possible. “See that girl in the back there?” Roman said. “I need you to get her home safely. Don’t go straight there. Circle the block several times, make sure you aren’t being followed. If anything happens to her, I’m coming after you.”

The driver said nothing. He looked like he was about to pee himself.

Roman pulled out his wallet and held out a small wad of folded bills to the driver. “That should more than cover it.”

I sat up. That was way more than the fare would be. There had to be at least four hundred dollars there.

The taxi driver’s eyes widened, the promise of money—lots of money—suddenly making him brave. He straightened in his seat and took the bills. He almost looked like he wanted to salute Roman. “Yes, sir.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. When did this man ever not get what he wanted?

Roman nodded and pulled his body out of the cab. He stood on the curb, his unreadable eyes staring at me through my open window as the cab driver started the engine.

A lump developed in my throat. “Roman…?” What did I want to say? Thank you? I’m sorry?

He shook his head slightly. Say nothing.

The cab pulled away from the curb. I slumped back in my seat. What the fuck just happened?

He saved my life. He made sure I wouldn’t be followed. He does care, despite his protests.

He let you go, a voice inside me said. He only saved me because he wanted to protect himself. He had all those skimpily dressed ladies to “go back to.” Face it, Jules, he had you. Now you’re not interesting anymore. You’re just a pain in his backside.

I twisted in my seat but Roman hadn’t moved. I stared out the rear window as he grew smaller, our gazes locked until he disappeared out of sight.

JULIANNA

____________

I kept anticipating a third rose all week. But as the second rose wilted, so did my hopes.

“Newly assigned detective. First major case. You want to get out of your father’s shadow. You need so desperately to prove yourself.”

Roman’s words kept echoing through me, sending a fresh wave of hurt every time they did.

“I always make sure I know exactly who I’m up against.”

I had tried three times now to convince him I was on his side. Each time I had failed. It was clear he didn’t want my help. It was clear where he thought he stood.

“That was her free pass. Her last one.”

He had drawn the line. It was war between us. Next time he would not take my attempts to help him with so much civility. Why the hell couldn’t I give up on him?

I sank most of my time at work into investigating the Tyrells. Someone had to know something. I called all the sources I’d gathered during my days as a beat cop, asking what they knew about Giovanni Tyrell and the new heir to the Tyrell empire. It seemed when it came to the Tyrells, nobody wanted to talk. I knocked on doors in Little Italy where the body was dumped to see if I could get any more information. More often than not, doors were slammed in my face.

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