Mine to Keep (NOLA Knights #3) - Rhenna Morgan Page 0,43
books and masculine details. Kind of like one of those old bookstores you’d expect in London or some other England hidey-hole. Sure enough, Roman sat behind a desk fitting for a man his size.
Whatever he’d been working on, he stopped as soon as she came into view. The look he gave her was the stuff reserved for lazy Sunday mornings after a rowdy tumble the night before—and Lordy, did it do weird things to her insides.
She cleared her throat and crept forward, wiping her hands on her hips. “Heya. Sorry to bug you, but I need my backpack and my phone. I’m really late to work at the station and I need to call my boss before I get fired.”
Roman’s gaze dipped lower, locked on her throat. Every ounce of warmth in his expression evaporated and his mouth got frighteningly tight.
Oh, right. The scratch. She’d cleared off the dried blood around the minor cut, but with her fair skin, she’d have red marks for a while. She ran her fingers across it. “It’s fine. Looks worse than it really is from me cleaning it. Barely broke the skin.”
His attention latched back on her face. “It is not fine. And you will not be going to work. You will stay here.”
Say what? Was he high?
“Um, I have to go to work. It’s my job. I have bills to pay. A car to fix. Not to mention, I need to check on my stuff.”
Roman dipped his head toward the corner behind her. “Your things are here. Prints have been gathered and what furniture you have is being moved into my garage. Your landlord has been advised that you’re ending your lease effective immediately.”
“What!” Given how much he’d done for her the night before, the sharp explosion probably wasn’t the most appreciative way to respond, but seriously. Who did that kind of shit without asking? “You can’t just move my stuff and end my lease without talking to me. I have to have some place to live! I have to work! It took me forever to find a decent lease in a place close to where I work.”
“Your things are here. You will take my room and stay here.”
“I can’t live with you!”
“You can and you will.” As if he hadn’t absolutely just upended her life, he shifted his focus to the massive computer screen on his right. “Kir is researching the plate on the car your attackers drove last night. Prints are being run through connections with the police department.”
Un. Fucking. Believable.
She was horribly late for work. Had apparently been moved overnight, with zero input, and was now living with a mobster who had connections with the NOPD.
Well, what did you think was going to happen when you called Cassie?
Right.
Actions always had consequences, and it seemed this time she’d raced down the rabbit hole. She pulled in a slow breath and tried to sound reasonable. “Look. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. For saving my ass last night and being über decent when I lost my shit after...but you’ve gotta know...you’re freaking me the hell out right now. You don’t just move someone without asking. You don’t get rid of where they live. And more than that, you don’t put their jobs at risk.”
A tiny yet highly amused smile that should have pissed her off crept onto his face. He punched a few buttons on his keyboard, stood and prowled toward her, his faded jeans and fitted T-shirt only adding to the danger in his gait. “You returning to your apartment is not only foolish, but dangerous. You being anywhere—including work—without someone to guard you not only puts you at risk, but endangers those around you as well.” He stopped right in front of her, the same comforting scent that had wrapped around her this morning drawing her in once more. “So, you are wrong, moya malen’kaya koroleva. To keep you safe, I can and will do all of those things whether it angers you, or not.”
Her brain flatlined. Wouldn’t offer up one single thought to fight back with. Partially because, once he called out the facts, he was probably right, but also because he’d gone well past private space and into hers. So close all she’d have to do was lean in a fraction and she’d be pressed tight against him. When she spoke, her voice was just barely above a whisper and practically vibrating from all the power coming off him. “I can’t just stop my life. I’m