Page 14 of Desert Thorns

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“Who is he?” Rome pointed his knife at me without looking up. His raven hair was slicked back, his amber eyes hard. A scar stretched across his neck including his carotid artery. No doubt the man had seen more in his thirty-something years than most people did in their entire life. Given he was the owner of the most luxurious club on the island, I’d expected him to be older.

“I’m Brother Samuel—”

The knife came flying out of nowhere, nearly shaving off my hair as it sliced past my head. A softthudfollowed from behind me. It must have found its target in the bookshelf next to the door.

“Are you crazy?” Harley’s eyes were wide as saucers as she stared at her boss, then at me, then back at him. “What if he would’ve moved?”

“Didn’t even bat an eye.”

Harley stomped her foot. “He is not a threat, Romeo Marino.”

Her sharp tone took me aback. Pretty bold to talk to your boss like that.

“Let me make that decision.” He pointed behind me. “Wanna grab me the knife?”

Heart jackhammering, I turned and headed to the bookshelf. The knife stuck in one of the boards sporting several dents. Looked like knife throwing wasn’t an unusual occurrence in this room. I pulled it out, then returned to Rome, who now stood.I flipped it and caught the blade. Extended the knife to Rome, handle first.

He took it without breaking eye contact. “You sure you’re a monk?”

“No, I just like running around in a habit.”

That provoked a smirk. He gestured at the two seats in front of his desk. “What can I do for you?”

“Can I take a few days off?” Harley plopped into the seat on the left.

I lowered myself into the right, the leather squeaking under me. It had been a while since I’d sat in something so luxurious.

“What’s a few?” Rome folded his hands on the desk, the rosary inked on his right forearm catching my eye. Interesting. As was the small golden cross dangling from his left earlobe.

Harley shrugged. “I don’t know. As many as you’ll grant me.” She glanced at me. “I’d like to stay a few days at Saint James Monastery.”

“Saint James Monastery.” Rome reached for the knife again and twirled it between his fingers. “What’s happening there?”

“Nothing. That’s the whole point, though. I need a break from this crazy life.”

Rome let out a grunt. “You haven’t taken a vacation since working for me. Never taken sick leave. I’ll give you two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

“Three better?”

“What? No! Two weeks is . . . long.” Harley once again eyed me. “Can I stay that long?”

“I’ll have to ask Father Cruz.” He’d most definitely say yes.

I resisted the urge to hold onto my rosary for dear life. I liked Harley, I really did. Did I want her to stay with us? Yes, yes I did. It was an opportunity to find out more about her faith. Maybe draw her closer to God.

Yet I didn’t. Her presence messed with me. The way she’d moved her body to the music, her surprisingly bubbly personality when she felt safe, and her feistiness . . . This woman was addicting in the worst possible way.

If I wasn’t careful, she’d be my downfall.

“Does this have anything to do with your ex?” Rome’s gaze drilled into Harley. “Don’t even think about lying to me, Raines.”

She wrung her hands in her lap. “Yes, but I’m overreacting. Craig is just . . . being extra.”

I almost objected. The guy was dangerous. I had no idea what he’d done that had her so spooked, but obviously it had to be bad if a guy like Rome didn’t scare her.

“What did Fuller do, Harley?” Rome’s question sounded a lot like a threat.