All He Needs
Page 69
“Jesus. Hope springs eternal then. Or are they recently divorced or something?”
“Haven’t a clue. They’re not on my radar.”
“Friends of Melanie’s?”
“More or less.” He blew out a small breath. “Women like Charlie and Angela are attracted to my money. They don’t know how boring I am. Work, work, and more work. That’s all I do.”
“Maybe they like your dick too.” That kind of hard-eyed, determined possessiveness she’d just witnessed wasn’t just about money.
“Let’s not go there,” he said softly, holding out his hand for her as they reached the top of the stairs. “It doesn’t matter what they like. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Are we really going for a walk on the beach?”
He smiled. “Thank you. Your tact is admirable. And yes, if you don’t mind. I’d like to show you my bridge.”
“Your bridge?” she said drolly, flirtation always safer than actual emotion.
He grinned. “It is when I’m home. And I want you to see it. Now, let me find Roscoe,” he said when they came to the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll say a few words and we can leave”—he glanced at his Santos watch—“right on schedule.”
Roscoe didn’t look at all like Kate had imagined. She knew he was older, so she’d anticipated someone overweight, bald or graying, a few wrinkles.
He was dressed in jeans and a gray silk long-sleeved shirt buttoned at the neck, his blond hair long like Dominic’s, his lean face tanned, and either he’d had some good cosmetic surgery or he had good genes. He didn’t look a day over forty.
“So you’re the sorceress,” he said gruffly when Dominic introduced her.
“Uh-uh, Roscoe, Katherine’s my good luck charm. Life’s been much better since I met her. So be nice.” Although he was already; Roscoe’s voice was perfectly modulated rather than his usual wake-the-dead volume.
Roscoe smiled. “Thanks for bringing in the twenty mil.”
Dominic had said Roscoe had been married twice. She could see how women would like him. That was a very nice smile. “My pleasure.”
“You should work for us.”
“I’d rather not, but thank you.”
He lifted his brows to Dominic. “What the hell’s wrong with you Nick? Can’t you make her an offer she can’t refuse?”
“I’m trying, Roscoe. But she doesn’t care about money. How do you deal with that?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Roscoe murmured. “If you have a minute, I’d like to talk about a couple things.”
Dominic gave Kate a searching glance. “Do you mind, baby? Five minutes?”
“I’ll go find Gretchen. Come get me when you’re finished.”
“See, Roscoe? Is she perfect or what?” He took Kate by the shoulders and spun her around. “There’s Gretchen. Five minutes, I’ll come get you.”
Kate went to the kitchen first because Po’s martini was like the nectar of the gods and she was addicted. She’d find Gretchen once she had her drink.
But she’d just reached the counter where the bartender was working and ordered her drink, when a man’s voice close to her ear, said, “Dominic has excellent taste as usual.”
She turned to find a tall, tanned, fair-haired man smiling at her and wondered if all Dominic’s friends looked like California surfers.
“Kip Watson,” he said with a dip of his head. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to meet you.” His voice was soft and low, a playful twinkle in his eyes.
“Katherine Hart. Nice to meet you.”
“You’re not from around here.” He grinned. “Fargo?”
“Everyone says that. And I don’t think I have an accent.”
“It’s charming. Don’t change it. Can I get you a drink?”
“I’ve ordered, thanks.”
“Will you be around long?” His gaze slowly raked her figure before returning to her face. “I’m saying a little prayer here. Tell me yes,” he said, his smile slow and easy.
“I’m not sure.” She shrugged faintly.
“That’s better than a no. May I take you to dinner some night?”
“No, you can’t,” Dominic said, coming up and slipping his arm around Kate’s shoulder. “She’s mine.”
“Mine?” Kip lazily arched his brows. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means back off, Kip, or I’ll break your neck,” Dominic said with the same lazy arch of his brows.
Kip’s smile was smug, a little swagger in his voice. “You’re not a teenager on the beach intimidating some rogue surfer, Nick. Those days are long gone.”
“I know exactly where and who I am,” Dominic said quietly, his glittering blue gaze squarely focused on Kip.
“So you’re not going to do anything to me.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Here? In Mel’s house? Who the hell are you kidding?”
“Did I say I’d do it here? I don’t remember saying that. But I remember saying I’ll break your neck”—Dominic drew in a small breath—“if you get anywhere near Katherine.” He leaned forward slightly, aggression straining every nerve, his quiet voice deadly. “And that’s a promise. So stay the fuck away from her.”
“Haven’t a clue. They’re not on my radar.”
“Friends of Melanie’s?”
“More or less.” He blew out a small breath. “Women like Charlie and Angela are attracted to my money. They don’t know how boring I am. Work, work, and more work. That’s all I do.”
“Maybe they like your dick too.” That kind of hard-eyed, determined possessiveness she’d just witnessed wasn’t just about money.
“Let’s not go there,” he said softly, holding out his hand for her as they reached the top of the stairs. “It doesn’t matter what they like. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Are we really going for a walk on the beach?”
He smiled. “Thank you. Your tact is admirable. And yes, if you don’t mind. I’d like to show you my bridge.”
“Your bridge?” she said drolly, flirtation always safer than actual emotion.
He grinned. “It is when I’m home. And I want you to see it. Now, let me find Roscoe,” he said when they came to the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll say a few words and we can leave”—he glanced at his Santos watch—“right on schedule.”
Roscoe didn’t look at all like Kate had imagined. She knew he was older, so she’d anticipated someone overweight, bald or graying, a few wrinkles.
He was dressed in jeans and a gray silk long-sleeved shirt buttoned at the neck, his blond hair long like Dominic’s, his lean face tanned, and either he’d had some good cosmetic surgery or he had good genes. He didn’t look a day over forty.
“So you’re the sorceress,” he said gruffly when Dominic introduced her.
“Uh-uh, Roscoe, Katherine’s my good luck charm. Life’s been much better since I met her. So be nice.” Although he was already; Roscoe’s voice was perfectly modulated rather than his usual wake-the-dead volume.
Roscoe smiled. “Thanks for bringing in the twenty mil.”
Dominic had said Roscoe had been married twice. She could see how women would like him. That was a very nice smile. “My pleasure.”
“You should work for us.”
“I’d rather not, but thank you.”
He lifted his brows to Dominic. “What the hell’s wrong with you Nick? Can’t you make her an offer she can’t refuse?”
“I’m trying, Roscoe. But she doesn’t care about money. How do you deal with that?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Roscoe murmured. “If you have a minute, I’d like to talk about a couple things.”
Dominic gave Kate a searching glance. “Do you mind, baby? Five minutes?”
“I’ll go find Gretchen. Come get me when you’re finished.”
“See, Roscoe? Is she perfect or what?” He took Kate by the shoulders and spun her around. “There’s Gretchen. Five minutes, I’ll come get you.”
Kate went to the kitchen first because Po’s martini was like the nectar of the gods and she was addicted. She’d find Gretchen once she had her drink.
But she’d just reached the counter where the bartender was working and ordered her drink, when a man’s voice close to her ear, said, “Dominic has excellent taste as usual.”
She turned to find a tall, tanned, fair-haired man smiling at her and wondered if all Dominic’s friends looked like California surfers.
“Kip Watson,” he said with a dip of his head. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to meet you.” His voice was soft and low, a playful twinkle in his eyes.
“Katherine Hart. Nice to meet you.”
“You’re not from around here.” He grinned. “Fargo?”
“Everyone says that. And I don’t think I have an accent.”
“It’s charming. Don’t change it. Can I get you a drink?”
“I’ve ordered, thanks.”
“Will you be around long?” His gaze slowly raked her figure before returning to her face. “I’m saying a little prayer here. Tell me yes,” he said, his smile slow and easy.
“I’m not sure.” She shrugged faintly.
“That’s better than a no. May I take you to dinner some night?”
“No, you can’t,” Dominic said, coming up and slipping his arm around Kate’s shoulder. “She’s mine.”
“Mine?” Kip lazily arched his brows. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means back off, Kip, or I’ll break your neck,” Dominic said with the same lazy arch of his brows.
Kip’s smile was smug, a little swagger in his voice. “You’re not a teenager on the beach intimidating some rogue surfer, Nick. Those days are long gone.”
“I know exactly where and who I am,” Dominic said quietly, his glittering blue gaze squarely focused on Kip.
“So you’re not going to do anything to me.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Here? In Mel’s house? Who the hell are you kidding?”
“Did I say I’d do it here? I don’t remember saying that. But I remember saying I’ll break your neck”—Dominic drew in a small breath—“if you get anywhere near Katherine.” He leaned forward slightly, aggression straining every nerve, his quiet voice deadly. “And that’s a promise. So stay the fuck away from her.”
