Page 3 of Any Means Necessary

Callum Russo.

“Can I see some sort of ID?”

He looks at me in consideration for a moment, his gaze moving over me as his lips lift in amusement. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

It’s not an absurd request for him to ask the same of me.

“Deal,” I agree.

He reaches into his discarded suit coat pocket, and I walk to where I put my handbag on the far end of the kitchen counter, giving him a wide radius as I pass. Pulling my ID from my wallet, I’m suddenly wishing I had a better license picture.

“I’ll trade you.” I offer him my card, and he hands me his.

There it is, printed in black and white by the state of New York. Callum Russo, with the penthouse as his listed address. I’ve never seen such an intense driver’s license photo before, he’s staring down the camera like he’s daring every person who looks at it to question him, something I doubt happens often. And that’s exactly what I did.

I glance up from his license to find him watching me curiously. Callum Russo stares with the same analyzing intensity in real life as he does in his photo.

I guess that’s my answer, it's really him. Too bad this license can’t also tell me if Callum is as dangerous as he looks—they don’t exactly have a background check printed on the back.

“This doesn’t look like you, Lexie West.” He’s commenting on my photo that’s literally a decade old. I know exactly what he’s looking at; the overly scrunched hair with curtain bangs flat-ironed into submission, round cheeks, and closed-mouth smile hiding a mouth full of metal braces. Overall, not my best look. My hair styling and skincare journey have really come a long way since then—it’s just unfortunate that particular phase has been immortalized in my identification photo. I’m not the type to get embarrassed, but I can feel the blush warming my cheeks anyway.

“Hey, don’t judge. I’m sixteen in that photo, that was ten years ago,” I say in my defense. “At least my photo doesn’t look like I’m threatening every person who asks for my ID,” I shoot back, the words leaving my mouth too fast for me to think better of them. Dammit, I’m teasing him like he’s the friend I was just on the phone with. I have a bad habit of being too comfortable around people I don’t actually know.

Luckily he cracks a small smile, apparently not offended in the least. The man is as devastating as he is intimidating, especially when he smiles. There’s a small scar on his right cheekbone, and I can tell that his nose has been broken more than once, adding character to otherwise perfectly masculine features. He’s tall, every bit the six-foot-four listed on his license. I have to tilt my head to look up at him, he stands a good foot taller than me since I’m only five-four. His presence matches his frame, filling the expansive kitchen until I feel crowded.

“I have that effect on people,” he admits. “You’re right, your picture certainly isn’t threatening.” The teasing edge in his tone laughs, whether at me or with me I’m not sure. Walking back to the place settings at the kitchen island, he pulls out a stool and motions for me to sit. Not sure that I’m comfortable sitting down to eat with this man, but I comply anyway.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” I say in apology. I wait as he cuts into the meat, admiring how it slices like butter, the center tender and bright red in the perfect medium rare. That’s a beautiful steak if I do say so myself. As he chews he nods in what looks like appreciation.

“You’re not who I was expecting either,” he states before continuing. “I wasn’t supposed to be here, but there’s been a change of plans.”

“I’ll go pack, I can be gone in thirty minutes.”

“Don’t bother, you’re staying,” he states, the authority in his words leaving no room for argument. “I have some business to take care of, I’m only in the city for a few days.” Suddenly I’m curious what kind of business a man like this does. But the last thing I’m going to do is ask. That’s none of my business and I know how to mind my own.

“Ok,” I agree, not sure what else I can say. Taking a bite, I chew slowly as silence stretches between us.

Glancing over, my eyes catch his as he regards me. This man seems to stare a lot, but in a way I’m not used to. He’s not gawking or ogling. His gaze is intentional, almost analytical. It’s like there’s some sort of calculation going on in his brain and I’m part of the equation. Those ever-seeing hazel eyes seem to look into my very soul, reading me and tucking away that information for later use. He, however, shows very little of what he’s thinking.

“What hospital do you work at, Doc?”

“I’m an ER nurse,” I correct. “I spent eighteen weeks working at New York Presbyterian.”

“But you don’t work there now?” I shake my head, washing down a bite of steak with a sip of wine. This Cabernet Sauvignon is the perfect choice to pair with the meat.

“No, I took some time off.” I don’t need to mention that I’d planned to extend my contract to stay at New York Presbyterian for another thirteen weeks but begged to be let out of the obligation. Tony saved my ass from burning a few professional bridges when I was able to recommend him to my recruiter as my replacement. And all I had to do in return is stay in this penthouse for a few months? It was an easy deal.

“And another nurse set you up to stay here?” he’s more than just curious, he’s solving a puzzle. “Tony.” He supplies the nurse's name, looking for confirmation.

“Yeah, Tony,” I nod. “He took a contract last minute, so he got everything set up for me to watch your place instead.”

Callum stares at the contents of his wineglass, processing and contemplating. Then he changes the subject.

“There will be people coming in and out while I’m here.” He takes a sip of his wine, obviously not the least bit uncomfortable in the situation we’ve found ourselves in. And why would he be? It’s his home, his wine, his say of what happens. I’m the one out of her element here; in a strange apartment, in a strange city, with a complete stranger. He’s got the power, and he knows it.

Something tells me this dynamic isn’t a one-off. Callum holds the power in most situations.

“I’ll stay out of your way,” I assure him. I plan on being seen as little as possible. But he shakes his head, hazel eyes meeting blue.

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