Page 77 of Lethal Legacy

Roman ordering me to undress in front of him.

Roman’s dick filling my mouth.

Roman so far inside me I can’t even remember my own name.

“Mind-blowing,” I mumble eventually. “Heat-wise, right off the charts.”

“Iknewit!” Abby crows. “And if it’s that good, there’s no way he’s going anywhere, no matter what crazy opinions you have about the matter.” Her smile fades back into serious. “Even if you can’t tell him everything, maybe you should just relax a bit, Luce. Enjoy this for what it is. See where it goes. So long as you think you can, that is.” She looks closely at me. “But that’s the question, really, isn’t it? You’re clearly extremely into CEO Man. Do you honestly think you can live in his house, care for his children, and have mind-blowing sex on a regular basiswithoutgetting your heart involved?”

I laugh rather hollowly. “It’s the only option, really.”

“Hmm.” Abby looks at me doubtfully. “You’ve never really been a body-count kinda girl, Luce, and that’s coming from the queen of slutdom.”

That makes me laugh and change the subject.

I’m deeply unsettled. About how I feel. Where this is all leading.

But most of all, I’m shaken to hell about Roman being from Miami.

21

ROMAN

“Bit early for the boxing ring, isn’t it?” Dimitry smacks one glove into the other and dances in front of me. “Not that I’m complaining. I’ve been looking for a good reason to knock you out for at least a week.”

“You can fucking try.” I need this more than I need to stare at figures on a goddamn computer screen for one more minute. Putting a ring in at the Mercura bunker was a smart move. You never know when you’re going to need to clear your head. And nothing clears mine like knocking the hell out of someone else’s.

After waking to discover Miss Lopez had done an early morning runner, I have a burning desire to hit something. I’m not sure whether I’m pissed off that she left without asking or if I’m pissed off that I care.

Either way, I’m going to take a certain satisfaction from knocking Dimitry onto his ass. Fucker deserves it. For looking at Lucia. For the way he’s looking at me now.

Thwack.

I get the first in, a bracing uppercut on his right jaw. Dimitry bounces back from it, still grinning. Prick. He’s always grinned when people hit him, even as a ten-year-old.

“That the best you got?” He dances around me. “You’re getting soft, old man.” He bounces off the ropes then comes back in for more.

“Fuck you.” I duck beneath the fist aimed straight for my face. “And you can talk.” I land another one in his ribs. “How much did you drink last night, anyway? I can still smell it on your breath.”

“None of your”—he lands a particularly sharp one in my gut—“fucking business.”

I swing around and give his ribs a solid few strikes. “Sloppy. Same as your women.” I get another one in. “Who was it last night? Some cheap bit from Pillars?”

His right hook comes too fast for me to duck. He follows it up with a couple more for good measure, snapping my head sideways enough to actually hurt. I grin through the blood from my cut lip. “Hit a nerve, did I?”

I manage to dodge the next one and catch him with an uppercut of my own. Dimitry’s expression is rather grimmer than usual. I punch him again anyway. Unfortunately, it takes a lot more than a few fists to put Dimitry down.

“You can talk.” He slams a fist into my gut. “You’re the one playing happy families with the nanny.”

I catch him a glancing blow on the shoulder that throws him off-balance. “She’s there for the kids, asshole.”

“Sure.” Dimitry ducks away from my fists and lies back against the ropes, giving me that shit-eating grin again. “She’s got hella salsa moves for a nanny.”

“Mother fu—” I go in hard, landing them everywhere the fucker has left himself open, until he’s bleeding at the eyebrow and one eye looks set to be closed for a while.

Prick still doesn’t go down.

“Looks like I’ve hit a soft spot.” He spits blood onto the ring, still fucking grinning. “Or is that a hard spot?” He ducks and weaves, staying well out of range.

---