Page 4 of Caged Captain

I don’t know why I told her that. She doesn’t need to know any details about my life. In fact, she shouldn’t be here at all. Why am I entertaining this meeting?

My phone rings, startling us both. Glancing down at the screen, I see it’s the Underboss. “Enrico,” I answer, thankful for the momentary distraction. I need to gather my thoughts enough to end things with Imogine and get back to my paperwork.

“The inner circle is being followed,” he says, his tone all business. “Boss just got confirmation that he, Lorenzo, you, and I have detectives assigned to each of us. Not sure if their assignments have started yet but we know their orders have been issued. We need to lie low.”

I grunt, leaning back in my chair and wiping a hand over the stubble on my chin. Thinking about the half-dozen contracts I still need to sign, I wonder how I’m supposed to lie low while keeping everyone under my jurisdiction safe and happy.

Without meaning to, I look over at Imogine, who is doing her very best to pretend she’s not eavesdropping. I’m struck with a brilliant idea that has absolutely nothing to do with her intoxicating combination of curves, dark hair, blue eyes, and inner strength.

“I understand,” I tell Enrico. He informs me of a meeting I’m to attend at Aurelio’s mansion later in the evening and then hangs up.

Turning my attention to the woman who waltzed into my life at just the right time, I rest my elbows on the table and focus on her.

“I have a solution to both of our problems,” I tell her, watching questions fill her light-blue eyes. They’re framed in long, dark lashes, making the bright color all the more potent. “I need to keep a low profile for a few weeks while still meeting business partners and friends of the family. You will be my cover.”

Her brow furrows, and her cute button nose scrunches up.No, not cute. Not anything. Just a nose.

“Cover?”

“My excuse to go to restaurants, clubs, and the myriad of errands someone of my position does on a day-to-day basis.” Imogine nods slowly, though I can tell she doesn’t really get it. “You’d be my fake girlfriend,” I say, spelling it out for her.

She blinks, then rears her head back as if just realizing what I’m asking. “Wait, me? Girlfriend?” I nod. “I thought you didn’t waste time with relationships,” she says, a smirk curling up one side of her lips. She recovers quickly, I’ll give her that.

“I don’t,” I confirm. “This is strictly business. I will forgive your father’s debt in full, and in exchange, you’ll be available for me to take on fake dates around the city. You’ll be my cover,” I reiterate.

“But…” Imogine’s confidence wavers, her eyes darting around my face and back to her hands, which are fidgeting in her lap. A blush spreads across her cheeks, and I’m dying to know what she’s thinking. “Do you really think people will believe we’re a couple?”

My brow furrows, not understanding her question. “Of course. Why wouldn’t they? Is it because I’m… several years older than you?” I realize she’s a solid fifteen years younger than me, if not more. “Truthfully, lots of men in my circles have younger, beautiful partners. Some of them use each other for financial gain and arm candy, but others I believe are truly in love.”

“Younger, maybe, but I’m not sure I fit the beautiful part,” she mumbles.

I almost don’t hear it, but when her words finally register, I frown. “What?”

“I mean, look at you,” Imogine says exasperatedly. She lifts a hand and waves it in my general direction. “And look at me.”

I try not to, but I’m only so strong. My eyes wander from her silky brown hair down, down, down, to the curve of her neck and lower, to her ample chest. “I’m not sure I understand,” I say after clearing my throat. “You’re perfect.”

Shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but seriously, how does she not know how gorgeous she is? The more I study her reaction, the more I begin to realize she thinks she’s not good enough to play the part. Why does that make me irrationally angry?

Imogine makes no effort to hide her radiant smile. Giving her this compliment changes her entire expression. Some part of metucks that information away. She likes my praise. Fuck if I don’t like giving it to her.

With a new surge of determination, the mesmerizing woman tilts her head to the side, considering my offer. If I were a different man, a softer man, I might think she’s adorable. However, that word isn’t in my lexicon.

“I have a counter-offer,” she says, resting her elbows on the table to mirror my stance.

Again, this woman has managed to surprise me. Twice in one day. In one conversation. “You don’t have much leverage here,” I remind her, though I secretly love the challenge she’s putting in front of me.

“I’ll accompany you to any and all meetings around the city for however long you see fit. In exchange, you’ll forgive my father’s debt and pay two months’ rent for our motel room.”

My features remain stoic, but something scratches painfully at the empty spot where my heart used to be. Imogine can’t be older than twenty-five, but she’s already experienced the kind of trauma that either breaks a person or hardens their heart. Staring into her endless eyes, I sense this enigmatic woman isn’t broken, nor has she lost her soul. She’s managed to turn her pain into resilience.

Here she is, holding her head high as she asks for rent money.

“Fine,” I eventually say, holding out my hand for her to shake on our deal.

“One more thing,” Imogine adds.

I can’t help the grin spreading across my face as I shake my head. “Better quit while you’re ahead,” I warn.

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