Mob Mistress. Sheri WhiteFeather

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СКАЧАТЬ wrapped around his waist he came out of the bathroom, and the dog whined at him.

      “Fine. I’ll pet you.” He reached down to scratch the mutt’s elephant ears.

      The happy-assed, ugly-as-sin dog rolled over on his back, exposing his belly and kicking his feet in the air.

      So much for not getting attached. Justin decided to call him Lester since it rhymed with Chester.

      He got dressed and took the puppy onto the terrace. Justin stood there for about fifteen minutes, checking out the situation again, wondering if he would be able to get past the guard at night, if when the time came, he could—

      “I’d suggest using the stairs,” a deep voice said from behind him.

      He spun around and stared at the giant who’d uttered those smart-mouthed words.

      Instinctively, Justin clenched his fists. His opponent outweighed him by at least eighty pounds, but Justin had the advantage of youth. The Hulk was probably on the far side of sixty.

      “I’m glad you’re up and about. But I figured you would be by now.” The other man extended a beefy hand and introduced himself. “Leo Gordon. I’m in charge of security.”

      Justin didn’t return the gesture. “Screw you,” he said instead. He wanted to kick the crap out of the security chief, not make friends with him.

      Leo grinned. He had a slightly crooked smile and a nose that had probably been broken a dozen times. His razor-buzzed, pseudo-military hair spiked into fuzzy gray points. He was dressed in a dark suit, as if he were trying to pass himself off as civilized. His shoes were high-dollar loafers.

      “You’ve got balls,” Leo said. “Like your old man.”

      Justin angled his head. “My old man?”

      “Your dad. We were friends. Once upon a time.”

      Justin considered Michael Elk, his half-Cherokee father, the man who’d taught him right from wrong. Dad had been a hellion in his day, but his rebellious antics had been petty, smoking-in-the-boy’s-room kind of stuff, not consorting with the mob. That had been Uncle Reed’s turf. Or so Justin had been told. But now he didn’t know what to think.

      Unfazed by the tension, Lester yapped happily at Leo, and the security chief picked him up, allowing the mutt to give him an affectionate nuzzle. But he’d probably brought the puppy to the room to begin with.

      “Where am I?” Justin asked, pretending that he wasn’t aware of his surroundings. That he didn’t have an angel on his side. “Whose house is this?”

      “It’s the Halloway mansion.” Leo cradled the dog.

      “Halloway?” He repeated the name, playing his part, doing his damnedest to seem surprised. “Like the Hollywood Mob?”

      “You catch on quick, kid.” Leo didn’t smile. No more half-cocked expressions. “We need to cut the chitchat and get going. Your family is anxious to see you.”

      Justin flinched. His parents were here? Had they been abducted, too? And what about his sister? She was in Europe, but had they gotten to her, as well? “My family? If you did anything to them, I’ll kill you.”

      “Lighten up. They’re fine. Now let’s go.”

      Justin followed Leo out of the suite and into the mansion, where the architecture made an affluent statement. When they came to a sweeping staircase, Leo started his descent. Lester rode with his chin propped on the security chief’s shoulder.

      The puppy gazed at Justin and barked excitedly, as if they were on a grand adventure. Leo didn’t falter. He simply patted the dog to quiet him.

      When they reached a black-and-white tiled foyer, the other man finally stopped and turned. “This way,” he said, indicating a gentleman’s parlor.

      Sturdy sofas and wing-back chairs governed the room, with chestnut tables and built-in bookcases.

      Justin glanced around, looking for familiar faces. But the parlor was empty. “Where’s my family?”

      “They’ll be here.” Leo put Lester down, and the puppy scampered around. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

      “I prefer to stand.”

      “Suit yourself.” Leo stood, too. He took an unassuming spot by a window where burgundy drapes, loaded with tassels and trim, were open, displaying a cluster of palm trees and a rolling-green lawn. As he adjusted his jacket, he flashed the holstered gun clipped to his belt.

      Justin gave him a hard look. He wanted to jam his fist down the security chief’s throat. And he would, when all of this was over, when he knew his family was safe.

      A uniformed maid wheeled a serving cart into the office, and Leo snapped at her. “You’re intruding on a private meeting.”

      “I’m sorry, sir,” she responded in a respectful tone. “But the chef sent me. Mr. B. requested some hors d’oeuvres.”

      Leo waved his hand, allowing her to proceed.

      Justin assumed that Mr. B. was Brian Halloway, the boss. Referring to him as Mr. Halloway was probably confusing since there was more than one Mr. Halloway at the mansion. The angel had mentioned Richard Halloway, too.

      The dog, curled up in the corner, perked his ears as the maid pushed the cart farther into the room.

      Justin took a closer look at her, and when he did, his pulse jammed his throat.

      Her hair, dark and rich, was coiled into a tidy bun, exposing the stunning angles of her face. Her bronze-toned skin appeared soft and touchable, and the greenish-gold color of her eyes enhanced what Justin called ethnic ambiguity. He had a similar look. People were never quite sure of his heritage.

      She was what he imagined his angel to be. Sleek, sexy, exotic. But she was cautious and proper, too.

      She moved around the room without disturbing him.

      He wanted to catch her gaze, to force her to look at him, but she focused on her task, arranging the appetizers just so.

      Was she the mystery lady who’d come to his room? Or was he grasping at straws? Wrongly evaluating the first woman he saw? Maybe if he heard her speak again. Maybe her voice…

      “What’s your name?” he asked her.

      She took an audible breath, and Leo frowned.

      “If you’re itching for female companionship, we can get you a woman,” the security chief told Justin, not allowing the maid to answer.

      Damn it. Justin cursed his mistake. He hadn’t meant to be so obvious, so openly attracted to her. “I’m not itching for anything, I just want to know her name.”

      Leo gestured for her to respond.

      “It’s Maya,” she said, keeping her eyes downcast and fussing with a silver coffee service. “Maya Reyes.”

      Her voice СКАЧАТЬ