the food chain. And apparently he had no compunction about killing off his family to get to the top.
Reese paced the room. He wanted to go back out on the street, back to the scene to look for casings, prints, anything. This was the hardest part of undercover work for him. The pretending to be a civilian, his hands tied, his patience tried to nearly breaking. He thrived on the street, where he could roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty.
“You really should call the cops, maybe they can dig up something.”
She shook her head adamantly, and he noticed the wound bleeding again. “My family takes care of their own business.”
“Where’s the doc? You’re bleeding more.”
“He went to his office to get supplies, he’ll be right back.”
“We should have just followed him over there.”
Frankie nodded. “I didn’t think to suggest that.”
Heavy silence hung between them. He knew from experience that once the adrenaline started to wane, fatigue and pain set in. “Do you have somewhere you can stay tonight?”
Frankie flashed him a bright smile. “Yep, your place.”
Reese stopped in his tracks, the implications of that statement racing through his mind. “I don’t mix business with my personal life.”
“Trust me, there will be no mixing. Purely business.” She dug into her purse and pulled out several papers. “Speaking of business, sign this, now.” She handed him the contract, then dug out a pen from her purse and handed that to him as well.
“I want to go over this with my agent.”
“It’s standard, and your exorbitant fee is so noted.”
Reese gave the papers a quick scan. He was no fool, but he needed to play the model part. “If I find out you’re screwing me, I’ll sue you, saying I signed under duress.”
“If I was screwing you, you’d know it.”
He smiled. “That makes two of us.”
Frankie’s cell phone ring startled them both. She answered it. “Hello.” He watched her expression soften. “Yes, Unk, I’m here now.” She shook her head. “He said a few stitches, then I’m good as new. What?” Her brows knitted together. “I don’t need a bodyguard, Unk. I appreciate the offer, but —”
Reese snatched the phone out of her hand. “Mr. Donatello, Francesca will be coming home with me.”
Reese grinned down at an indignant Frankie. “I’m sorry, sir, if I give you that information, I’d have to kill you. Your niece is safe with me tonight. Good night.” He hit the End button and Frankie looked like she was about to give birth to kittens.
“Did you just tell my uncle you would have to kill him? Are you crazy?”
“Maybe.”
“What on earth for?”
“He wanted to know where I live. It’s none of his damn business.”
Frankie stared wide-eyed, her full lips parted. His body warmed. Why hadn’t he been the one to suggest she stay with him? He wanted her in his bed. Tonight. Suddenly the imposition of her staying at his place evaporated. Maybe they could find a physical release to ease the tension of the evening.
“You really are stupid.”
Reese grinned. “Isn’t that status quo for us model types?”
“Really, really, really stupid. My uncle will hunt you down for this.”
“No, he won’t. More than anything he wants you safe. I can make sure that happens.”
She opened her mouth to argue when Uncle Sanzo bustled into the room. “Come now, Francesca, let’s take care of your arm.”
As if she were going to her own funeral, Frankie rose by increments. Her feet dragging, she followed Sanzo. Reese followed behind her, and the old Italian doctor raised a brow and cocked his head at his niece.
“No sense in telling him no, Sanzo,” Frankie said. “He doesn’t listen.”
Reese chuckled. “Smart girl.”
Because she had an audience and because she refused to show weakness and because if she didn’t put up a front, she’d collapse into a pool of bawling mush, Frankie sucked it up, ready to take the stitches like a soldier.
Reese paced the room. He wanted to go back out on the street, back to the scene to look for casings, prints, anything. This was the hardest part of undercover work for him. The pretending to be a civilian, his hands tied, his patience tried to nearly breaking. He thrived on the street, where he could roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty.
“You really should call the cops, maybe they can dig up something.”
She shook her head adamantly, and he noticed the wound bleeding again. “My family takes care of their own business.”
“Where’s the doc? You’re bleeding more.”
“He went to his office to get supplies, he’ll be right back.”
“We should have just followed him over there.”
Frankie nodded. “I didn’t think to suggest that.”
Heavy silence hung between them. He knew from experience that once the adrenaline started to wane, fatigue and pain set in. “Do you have somewhere you can stay tonight?”
Frankie flashed him a bright smile. “Yep, your place.”
Reese stopped in his tracks, the implications of that statement racing through his mind. “I don’t mix business with my personal life.”
“Trust me, there will be no mixing. Purely business.” She dug into her purse and pulled out several papers. “Speaking of business, sign this, now.” She handed him the contract, then dug out a pen from her purse and handed that to him as well.
“I want to go over this with my agent.”
“It’s standard, and your exorbitant fee is so noted.”
Reese gave the papers a quick scan. He was no fool, but he needed to play the model part. “If I find out you’re screwing me, I’ll sue you, saying I signed under duress.”
“If I was screwing you, you’d know it.”
He smiled. “That makes two of us.”
Frankie’s cell phone ring startled them both. She answered it. “Hello.” He watched her expression soften. “Yes, Unk, I’m here now.” She shook her head. “He said a few stitches, then I’m good as new. What?” Her brows knitted together. “I don’t need a bodyguard, Unk. I appreciate the offer, but —”
Reese snatched the phone out of her hand. “Mr. Donatello, Francesca will be coming home with me.”
Reese grinned down at an indignant Frankie. “I’m sorry, sir, if I give you that information, I’d have to kill you. Your niece is safe with me tonight. Good night.” He hit the End button and Frankie looked like she was about to give birth to kittens.
“Did you just tell my uncle you would have to kill him? Are you crazy?”
“Maybe.”
“What on earth for?”
“He wanted to know where I live. It’s none of his damn business.”
Frankie stared wide-eyed, her full lips parted. His body warmed. Why hadn’t he been the one to suggest she stay with him? He wanted her in his bed. Tonight. Suddenly the imposition of her staying at his place evaporated. Maybe they could find a physical release to ease the tension of the evening.
“You really are stupid.”
Reese grinned. “Isn’t that status quo for us model types?”
“Really, really, really stupid. My uncle will hunt you down for this.”
“No, he won’t. More than anything he wants you safe. I can make sure that happens.”
She opened her mouth to argue when Uncle Sanzo bustled into the room. “Come now, Francesca, let’s take care of your arm.”
As if she were going to her own funeral, Frankie rose by increments. Her feet dragging, she followed Sanzo. Reese followed behind her, and the old Italian doctor raised a brow and cocked his head at his niece.
“No sense in telling him no, Sanzo,” Frankie said. “He doesn’t listen.”
Reese chuckled. “Smart girl.”
Because she had an audience and because she refused to show weakness and because if she didn’t put up a front, she’d collapse into a pool of bawling mush, Frankie sucked it up, ready to take the stitches like a soldier.
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