Page 34 of Bound in Ruin

I want this so badly.

Ensuring the bedroom door is securely clicked shut so the little guy doesn't wander off, I head back downstairs to hunt down my husband and break the news.

I run right into Helena at the bottom of the grand staircase, and she’s the exact person I need to see.

"What has gotten you looking so breathless and excited?" She says, a soft laugh in her voice as she looks at my flushed face.

I can't help the small giggle that slips past my lips. "Where is Dominic?"

Helena hesitates for a split second, her eyes searching my face. "He's out in the back, in the private garage." Seeing the blank look on my face, she offers a gentle nod. "Come on, I'll show you."

I follow her out the rear doors and across the landscaped yard toward a separate, secluded structure. As we draw nearer, the metallic tinkling of tools hitting steel echoes through the morning air. Helena stops at the wide, arched entrance, giving me a quiet nod before turning to walk back toward the main house.

I step inside alone, my eyes widening as I take in the massive, polished space filled with row after row of pristine, classic vintage cars. Every single one looks like a collector's dream.

How rich is Dominic, really?

This collection alone must have cost an absolute fortune.

Tracing the metallic clinking to the far side of the bay, I spot a pair of legs sticking out from beneath the chassis of a sleek, dark muscle car.

Without thinking twice, I use the toe of my shoe to nudge his ankle.

In a fraction of a second, Dominic slides out from underneath the vehicle on a creeper board, his movement fast, fluid, and dangerous. His eyes are burning with pure, unadulterated fury—ready to rip apart whoever dared interrupt him—but the very instant his sharp gaze lands on me, the fire dims.

The harsh edge in his expression softens just a fraction, and that tiny shift makes my heart do a violent somersault in my chest.

Remembering last night, I immediately pull my armor back up. I fold my arms tightly across my chest, tilting my chin to keep up the cold, standoffish attitude from yesterday.

Covered in black grease, with a smudge of dirt across his strong jawline, Dominic slowly rises to his feet, towering over me.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly.

My heart gives a sudden, painful squeeze, a sharp sting of rejection telling me he doesn't want me near him. But when I snap my head up to look at him, I realize I’ve completely misread the room.

His grease-stained hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, his shoulders shifting awkwardly. His dark, sharp gaze flickers around the garage, looking anywhere and everywhere except directly at me.

Wait.

Is Dominic Kane nervous?

He looks genuinely flustered, visibly uncomfortable at being caught out here in a sweat-stained shirt, stripped of his power, caught in the middle of something so remarkably personal and ordinary.

As much as I want to hold onto my anger from last night, watching this terrifying boss look like an awkward boy caught with his favorite toy makes the resentment evaporate into thin air.

I drop my crossed arms to my sides, my posture relaxing.

"Your vintage collection is a dream," I say, letting my gaze sweep over the polished chrome around us. "I love all these cars."

Dominic's eyes widen, a flash of genuine surprise washing over his sharp features as he looks at me with something that feels like fresh eyes.

"Really?" he asks, his tone cautious, almost disbelieving. "You love them?"

"I do," I nod softly, stepping a little closer to the sleek Dodge Charger. "How do you even know how to fix them?"

A slow, hesitant smile touches the corner of his lips, carrying a rare, almost shy quality that I've never seen on him before. "I've always loved messing around with engines, ever since I was a kid," he admits quietly, looking down at his dark-stained hands. "It's just something that comes naturally to me."

"Wow," I whisper, nodding as I look around the quiet sanctuary again, seeing him in a completely new light.