Page 28 of Dirty Big Sins

“Easy, Vincent.”

I ignored Gabe’s growled warning. “I don’t know what your deal is or why you suddenly have a hard on for me, but you are definitely barking up the wrong tree. I’ve got nothing here. You want to come back in the morning? Fine. Knock yourself out. But if you threaten me again, we’re going to have a serious problem.”

“Vincent!” Gabe stepped between me and Agent Reed. “Look, Rock. This isn’t necessary. You come back with the proper paperwork in the morning and I’ll make sure your guys get what they need. Until then, I think you need to go.”

Despite Gabe trying to block me from the Agent I could still see the angry snarl across his face. However, he must have realized he didn’t have much of a legal leg to stand on, which left him with few options. As he schooled his expression into the neutral one I’d seen the other day and most of this evening, I began to wonder who Agent Rock Reed was. Or more particularly how Gabe seemed to know him so well.

“I’m going to leave one of my guys here outside the door.”

Gabe shook his head. “Nope. Not happening. I’m not about to let a stranger wander through one of the most secure floors of the hotel. None of the guests here will appreciate that.”

Agent Reed’s facade slipped a little. “Look, Gabe. Stop trying to bust my balls here. We all know this is one of the most secure buildings on the strip and there isn’t an inch of space within these walls that doesn’t have surveillance.”

“Exactly,” Gabe interrupted. “Which is why staging a man here like some sort of low rent stake out isn’t necessary. So I’d appreciate it if you and your boys would go ahead and vacate this floor now before we have to escalate.”

As I stood here listening and watching these two go at each other, some of the anger I’d been fighting gave way to fatigue. I still had an early morning training session at the gym and I needed to get some sleep. Well, that and I needed to turn this room upside down until I found whatever it was the FBI thought they were going to find. I couldn’t afford anymore shit going down this close to the fight.

“I’ll be back first thing. Don’t dick me around.”

Reed and Gabe were walking toward the door as I half listened to what they were saying while I began scoping out where I would start.

When the door finally clicked closed behind both men, I was already halfway across the room to the first cabinet I wanted to search before I realized I wasn’t alone.

“What the hell kind of trouble are you hiding? I thought I was going to have to kill someone. Not that I’d mind per se, but spilling blood had not been on the agenda for tonight. Although maybe tomorrow I can work in an extra dead body or two.”

I jerked at the unfamiliar voice coming from the bedroom as I tightened my muscles and spun to face the intruder.

My jaw dropped at the sight of the tall, built man in a dark suit, leaning against the door frame. I may not have immediately recognized his voice, but I sure as hell recognized the thick mane of salt and pepper hair, and the dark brown eyes that looked exactly like mine. And the face, although lined with wrinkles, also looked eerily like mine.

“Romeo Rossi. Are you fucking kidding me?”

Chapter Thirteen

ZIA

As I strodetoward Zia’s Kitchen, my nerves fluttered in the depths of my stomach. Walking away from Vincent in such a final way had been both harder and easier than I’d thought. Harder for me because I was still as drawn to the man as ever. And can I just say how criminal it was for a man like him to look that good in a suit.

I couldn’t lie. There had been moments in that car when I wanted to climb him like a fucking tree monkey.

Also a part of me had wanted him to push me for more like he’d done in Italy. That had been the easy part—for him. I’d been as honest as I could with him and he’d accepted it. I was still shook by how easy he’d taken my decision.

As I pushed open the door to the restaurant, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was wrong with me. How could I be both elated and disappointed that he’d done what I wanted? There had to be something seriously wrong with me.

Fortunately, the blazing lights that greeted me from what should have been an abandoned dining room this time of night distracted me from my thoughts of Vincent. I needed to get him out of my head anyway. But it was the loud opera music and the distinct aroma of Italian spices coming from my kitchen that truly alarmed me. Someone was cooking inmykitchen in the middle of the night.What the hell?

Stomping across the room, I tried to tamp down my rising anger and failed. I was about to chew someone a new asshole and for good reason. No one, and I mean no one, should be in here without my express knowledge and authorization.

When I swung open the kitchen door, the music rose to deafening levels and I discovered it came accompanied by a male voice singing along. A much older man I didn’t recognize in the least moved between the chopping board on the counter and the stove as he sprinkled something into a large pot of sauce.

I didn’t care that it smelled divine. Or that the music playing reminded me of my grandmother. I saw nothing at the moment beyond the anger and grief that had slammed into me. This must be the supposed sous chef the network hired, and he’d taken the liberty of using my kitchen, with my personal tools and—Oh my God—my grandmother’s cutting board, which I kept in every kitchen I cooked in.

“What the hell is going on here?” I screamed.

Unfortunately, the music along with the singing was too loud and the intruder didn’t even notice me. I stomped across the room to the sound system that I had installed and jabbed at the Off button. I was so livid it took several tries before I got the damned thing to work and the sudden silence almost made me stumble.

“What the—” The bastard swung around and glared at me, looking as angry as I felt. Good. It was time to set things right.

“That’s my line. What are you doing here?”

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