“Is that a statement or a question?”
“Statement. But then, you are the baby of the family, are you not?”
“Yes.”
“The babies are always trouble. In your case, at least you’re the most helpful.”
“I am?”
“I’ve heard of your creations.”
I paused. “They’re not up for debate.”
“Why not? I want to talk distribution.” He raised his hands in peace, and slowly I resumed pacing. “But your rudeness did accelerate this discussion.”
“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?!”
He laughed, but it was genuine and not annoyed. “I already accepted your begrudging apology.”
I shoved my hands behind my back so I didn’t punch him. “It isn’t begrudging.”
“Isn’t it?” His expression turned mocking. “You were right earlier. We only recently overtook this territory.”
“You should call my brother to discuss distribution.”
“It was on my to-do list. As I said, you accelerated matters.”
I dismissed that. “Why do you need to meet with the Frasier sisters?”
“It’s always wise to have the chess pieces on the board before you move them. Plus, Eva’s right to be concerned. Whatever you’re doing with them, I don’t want it to happen on my turf.”
“She—they,” I quickly corrected, “aren’t playing a game. They’re on vacation.”
“Yes, but you’re not, are you? If anything, I’d say it’s quite the opposite.” He skewered me in place like a lepidopterist would a butterfly. “You should work on your poker face. You’re easy to read and she’s a developing weakness. And I say this as one friend with a weakness to another.” He glanced at his heavily pregnant wife, who scowled at me like I’d pissed in her Cornflakes this morning. Everyone knew Martinez’s depths were Stygian and that his wife was his Cerberus. “But weaknessescanbe strengths if you let them flourish.”
My brow puckered, but I didn’t have time to comment as a door slammed somewhere in the room and the sounds of sneakers and heelsfinallypounded on the marbled floor.
Attention shifting, I focused on the newcomers and released a relieved sigh when Kitty rushed deeper into the space where Martinez held court, head whipping from side to side as she sought me out.
The difference between the woman I’d met today and the one striding toward me bordered on chimerical.
Hell, the difference between those two women and the angel who’d stood in the doorway to my private hospital room was enormous too.
How many personalities did she possess?
And why did I want to memorize each and every one of them?
“Stan,” she cried, rushing over to me with such ease that my heart soared before it sank—this woman wasn’t supposed to feel fear.
It was already my fucking duty to eradicate it from her life.
I opened my arms to her, grateful when she settled inside them. I half-expected her to be trembling but she wasn’t. She clung to me, yes, but she turned her head to spit at Martinez, “Your watchdog is insane.”
TheLobos Rojos’leader’s brows lifted. “Miguel?”
“Yes. He killed a man. Who does that when you can maim someone?”
Martinez released a delighted laugh. “Well, isn’t that the most philosophical question I’ve heard in a long while?”
