Page 38 of Ruthless Vow

“It was bombed a few days ago,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s been on the news.”

Ah. That’s why.

I glance at the TV I had Luca set up for her and then back at Nicole, waiting for the rest of her explanation.

“I was staying at that motel, in the room where the bomb went off. If you hadn’t already brought me here, I would have been in that room.”

Luca makes a soft hiss as he exhales through his teeth.

Adrenaline kicks through my veins. If Nicole had been in that room, she would be dead. She would have been blown apart. Rage ignites in my gut.

“And how does that prove I didn’t set the bomb that killed your father?” I ask, my voice even and calm despite the fury crashing through me. I am going to find the person who tried to kill my little wolf. I am going to rip their limbs from their torso and lick their blood from my fingers.

“Because whoever killed my father just tried to kill me, too. And it makes no sense for the bomber to be you because you already knew I wasn’t in that room. I was here. You had no reason to blow up the motel.”

I nod, and shoot a glance at Luca. He doesn’t need orders or instructions. He’s already leaving the room, heading out to put together a team and find out everything the authorities have discovered about the bomb. And everything they haven’t discovered.

I won’t be waiting for the police to figure out this puzzle. Our network of informants is vast and unparalleled. I will have answers before the day is done.

“And you thought I would be interested in this information because…” I say, offering no indication that I am very interested in this information.

“Because whoever killed my father blamed you. Someone is trying to set you up to take the fall.”

I smile a little. “That might be news to you, mypiccololupetta, but it is not news to me. I’ve known that since you tried to shoot me on my yacht.”

Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t try to shoot you,” she says. “Had I tried to shoot you, you would be dead. I chose not to take the shot. There is a vast difference.”

And there is my wolf, rearing her proud head.

She meets my gaze and the way she looks at me, all fire and fury makes me want to pull her against me and kiss her, taste her, nip her skin, bite her lips. Mark her as mine. It is a primitive instinct, one I have only ever experienced with Nicole.

“You need to let me out of here,” she says.

“Why?”

“Because—” She breaks off and stares at me, clearly torn.

“What explanation can you offer that will convince me to let you go?” I ask softly. “You have information I am interested in and you will not be leaving here without divulging it. I want the name of your boss. I want to know exactly what information you have given them. I want to know the extent of your betrayal.”

She looks away. Swallows. Then her entire posture sags. “What lengths would you go to in order to save someone you love?” she asks.

“The ends of the earth,” I say without hesitation.

“Someone I love is in danger,” she whispers.

For an instant, jealousy unfurls like a poisonous seed.

“Who?” I snarl. Whoever he is, I will kill him. Nicole is mine.Mine.

The second the thought forms, realization dawns. Sheismine. No one will touch her. No one will harm her. And she will be with no one but me.

Because with Nicole, I do not have to wear a veneer of civility. I never have. She has known exactly who and what I am since the day I met her. She has been privy to many of my darkest deeds. And she knows how much I enjoy those deeds. With Nicole, I can simplybe. It is a luxury I have never before been afforded with a woman. Never before wanted. Never even considered.

I study her for a moment. She’s made use of the items I ordered brought to her. She’s wearing ivory sweatpants and an ivory t-shirt, the color accenting the warm olive of her skin, the style showing off her lean, strong body. Thanks to shampoo and conditioner, her dark hair is sleek and smooth, hanging in the ragged layers she cut. Her dark eyes are wide and desperate, worry etching her features, accented by the slash of her brows, her face arresting, strong, unique. I don’t know how I ever thought her plain.

I circle behind her and place my hands on her shoulders, pressing my thumbs into the tight muscles at the base of her neck.

“Why do you slouch like this?” I ask as I knead the knots in her shoulders.

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