He nodded. “You were wronged.”
Yes, damn it! Why was she sitting here, all depressed, like she’d done something wrong when Jeremy was the lying, cheating, fiscally irresponsible asshole who’d almost gotten her killed? She’d definitely been wronged. Many times. “I was.”
“Revenge will be yours. I’ll see to it.”
Well, that was nice. And a little terrifying. Much like Nico himself.
It occurred to her then that he was offering to be her otter, even if only temporarily. He was willing to hold her hand while she slept so that she wouldn’t float away in this whole disaster.
Which meant Nico Fortunado was way more dangerous than she’d assumed when she kidnapped him. Because fearing for her life was one thing. Now that she knew her heart was also in danger?
She needed to choose her next moves very carefully.
Chapter 7
A demon was screeching in his foyer.
That was the only explanation Nico could come up with for what he was hearing. So, the relieved look on River’s face when she heard the demon and got up to race toward it confused him.
When she threw the door to his office open, Enzo was on the other side, looking more bedraggled than Nico had ever seen him look.
And he was holding up a huge pink cage that housed the screaming demon.
“Help!” the thing wailed. “Stranger danger! Momma, help!”
River took the cage from Enzo with a grateful smile and set it down on the corner of Nico’s desk. “It’s OK, baby,” she cooed. “Momma’s here.”
Enzo shoved a hand through his hair. “That thing hasn’t stopped screaming since I opened the door at your apartment.”
She cringed. “Yeah. I probably should have told you she doesn’t really like men.”
Squawk. “Bad man,” it said in a low, shaky voice, rubbing its head on the finger River stuck in its cage. “Bad man.” Squawk. “Big bad man.”
“No, sweetheart,” she said. “You’re safe. Enzo is our friend.”
“The fuck I am,” Enzo muttered.
She shushed him. “Do you want her to start screaming again?”
Nico pointed to the cage. “That’s a bird.”
“She’s an African parrot,” River corrected. “A Congo African Grey, to be exact. Her name is Feather Locklear.”
The giant winged rat in the cage cooed happily at the sound of her name on River’s lips.
“It’s wearing a sweater,” he pointed out.
A little red knit sweater with a lopsided pink heart on the chest. Nico didn’t know much about birds, but something told him the sweater wasn’t exactly normal.
River frowned. “She has allergies and is missing some feathers because of them, OK? She’s a little sensitive about it, hence the sweaters. Plus, she loves her sweaters. Style is very important to her.”
He was still perplexed by this turn of events. “Why is it here?”
Enzo shifted his weary gaze to Nico. “It was the first thing on her list. I put everything else in the guest room across from the main suite. May I leave, sir?”
Nico waved him off, and he fled at a speed that was almost humorous. He was surprised there weren’t cartoon skid marks in his wake.
He glanced back at River, who was still cooing at the bird. “You had Enzo bring a bird,” he felt the need to repeat. “Here.”
