happened once he closed the door.
A lock clicked into place, and her heart seized up.
“So about my father,” she said briskly.
Wrath walked past her, taking off his jacket. He was wearing a muscle shirt under it, and she couldn't ignore the raw power of his arms, his biceps and triceps rippling as he put the leather aside. The tattoos running down his inner forearms flashed as he peeled the empty holster from his shoulders.
He went into the bathroom and she heard water splashing. When he came back out, he was drying his face with a towel. He put his sunglasses on before looking at her.
“You're father, Darius, was a worthy male.” Wrath casually tossed the towel back into the bathroom and walked over to the couch. He sat forward, elbows on his knees. “He was an aristocrat from the old country before he became a warrior. He's… he was my friend. My brother in the work I do.”
Brother. He kept using that word.
They were in the Mafia. Definitely.
Wrath smiled a little, as if remembering something that pleased him. “D had skills. He was fast on his feet, smart as hell, good with a knife. But he was cultured. A gentleman. He spoke eight languages. Studied everything from world religions to art history to philosophy. He could talk your ear off about Wall Street and then tell you why the Sistine Chapel ceiling is actually a Mannerist work, not from the Renaissance.”
Wrath leaned back, running a hefty arm across the top of the sofa. His knees fell out to the sides, his thighs spreading.
He looked damn comfortable as he pushed his long black hair back.
Sexy as hell.
“Darius never lost his temper, no matter how nasty things got. He just stuck to the job at hand until it was finished. He died with the full respect of his brothers.”
Wrath actually seemed to miss her father. Or whatever man he was channeling for the purpose of…
What exactly was he trying to pull here? she wondered. Where did it get him to throw out this crap?
Well, she was in his bedroom, wasn't she?
“And Fritz tells me he loved you very deeply.”
Beth pursed her lips. “Assuming I even buy any of this, I've got to wonder. If my father cared so much, why didn't he bother to introduce himself to me?”
“It's complicated.”
“Yeah, it's really hard to walk up to your daughter, stick your hand out, and say your name. Real tough stuff.” She walked across the room, only to find herself next to the bed. She quickly paced elsewhere. “And what's up with the warrior rhetoric? Was he in the mob, too?”
“Mob? We're not the mob, Beth.”
“So you're just freelance killers as well as drug dealers? Hmmm… Come to think of it, diversification is probably a good business strategy. And you need a lot of cash to keep up a house like this. As well as fill it full of art that belongs in the Met.”
“Darius inherited his money and he was very good at taking care of it.” Wrath leaned his head back, as if he were looking up at the house. “As his daughter, all of this is yours now.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, really.”
He nodded.
What a crock , she thought.
“So where's the will? Where's some executor ready to pass papers? Wait, let me guess, the estate's been in probate. For the last thirty years.” She rubbed her aching eyes. “You know, Wrath, you don't have to lie to get me in bed. As much as I'm ashamed of myself, all you have to do is ask.”
She took a deep, sad breath. Until now she hadn't realized that a small part of her had believed she'd get some answers. Finally.
Then again, desperation could make a fool out of anyone.
“Look, I'm going to take off. This was just—”
Wrath was in front of her faster than she could blink. “I can't let you go.”
Fear licked her heart, but she put up a good front. “You can't make me stay.”
His hands lifted to her face. She jerked back, but he wouldn't let go.
The pad of his thumb stroked her cheek. Whenever he got too close, she became spellbound and it happened again. She felt her body swaying toward his.
“I'm not lying to you,” he said. “Your father sent me to you because you're going to need my help. Trust me.”
She yanked away. “I don't want to hear that word on your lips.”
Here he was, a criminal who'd almost killed a cop in front of her, and