Page 97 of The Enforcer

He was the best-looking man I’d ever laid eyes on.

He was hot and amazing as a lover.

He was gentle when necessary, rough when I needed it the most.

He was well mannered and highly intelligent.

His family was amazing.

And he was an admitted killer.

That didn’t really scream full-time relationship material. Besides there was the long-distance aspect and I certainly wasn’t moving to Greece. I couldn’t even imagine what I’d need to go through to get my medical license.

What was I doing to myself? Torture. It was sheer torture.

I didn’t even know his favorite food, although I had a feeling he’d say that was me. I giggled at the thought then wrinkled my nose as I walked into the kitchen. Now I was moving head on into high school girl behavior. I hadn’t even acted so giddy when I was there.

The one thing I wasn’t proud of was drawing him into a romantic moment just before he’d left. I’d wanted it too, but I’d used it to keep him from thinking I was somehow involved. I just couldn’t believe he thought I could have anything to do with hurtinganyone. My thoughts drifted for the fourth time to what the Italian Don had said.

Maybe the man was trying to pit Christos against me. Why? To keep him occupied so Christos didn’t see what might be coming? Like a real massacre? Oh, God. What was I thinking?

Wine. I need glasses of wine. Maybe a bottle.

No, what I needed was to get the hell out of here. I wasn’t certain what I’d do, but I needed to get a distance away to think.

Little had he known I’d been sneaky while he was talking with his soldier, using an app on my phone to determine where we were. I’d also mapped out the easiest and shortest way to try to get help. There were some small businesses less than two miles away. I could walk that easily, especially in my tennis shoes.

I’d yet to find the courage to consider walking out the door. There was the issue of the guards protecting the place. Shit. What was I thinking?

I’d duped the man I cared about into sex. Where had that gotten me? Craving him even more. I was sick with need to be close to him and that wasn’t like me.

I stood in the kitchen, staring out the window at the incredible view. Between the mountains I could see in the distance and knowing the ocean was just beyond the trees, I could bask in the moment. He also had a pool and if I could relax, it would be wonderful to take a dip in the cool water.

Great. Now I was really losing my mind. Thinking about swimming when for all I knew, Christos could be convinced I’d been involved? No. I couldn’t go down that road.

So I stood and stared.

The late afternoon sun provided the most beautiful backdrop, the warm glow shining in through the oversized windows and doors creating a shimmering effect on every appliance. He’d yet to show me around his home, but I’d taken it upon myself to learn more about him by myself.

Wine. I found several bottles in a small wine closet, selecting a merlot I’d never tried before.

The wine opener was easy to find, the crystal glasses as well. I poured a good amount, taking a sip and savoring the flavor as I thought about everything that had transpired. Was my father somehow involved in what had occurred in New York? Had he been calling with concern or to berate me? It bothered me that I wasn’t certain which.

I was slowly remembering Mr. Baker, although I’d only seen him a couple of times. One had been at a fundraiser event. He’d been very nice, but that wasn’t the measure of a man. If only I could return my father’s call and slyly ask him a few pointed questions. Perhaps that’s something Christos would allow me to do. He deserved to know what was going on.

Or maybe the trust factor would never be there between us. I had no idea what to think. I moved around the kitchen, running my fingers over the granite counter and the gorgeous commercial stove that I wondered if he ever used.

Not that I could. I hadn’t told him a lie. I was a terrible cook.

A smile crossed my face as memories rushed to the surface. I’d so enjoyed the time we’d spent together, the tragedy the exception. But the reception leading up to the horror had been amazing.

I could certainly envision getting married on the estate.

“Girl. What are you thinking?” I left the kitchen, determined to learn more about him. When I passed by the foyer, I stopped and had a thought. As soon as I opened the door, Luca appeared. His expression was hard to read as he approached.

“Is there anything wrong, Dr. Laurant?”

“I think you can call me Valencia.” I tried to soften him by smiling. He wasn’t buying it, barely nodding. “Nothing is wrong. I just wanted to take a walk.”

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