He wasn’t a smart man; not even close to being as smart as her. He knew it, and maybe that made him smarter than most of Falcone’s men. He knew his limitations, felt them every day and accepted them, but never let them stop him. But despite his lack of smarts, he knew that Cara wasn’t really a reward for him. That wasn’t why she’d been given to him. Of course, she was a reward, was the greatest gift someone like him could hope for, was more than someone as dark and dirty deserved, but that wasn’t why Falcone had made her his gift.
This wasn’t a reward for him, it was a punishment for her and her father, and if anything held true than that he was a true punishment. Growl knew that, and maybe he should have felt revolted, should have felt guilty, should have refused a gift like that, but he wasn’t that kind of man, and that was why Falcone had chosen wisely. He was the punishment no one deserved, least of all her. But now that he had her, Cara, his gift, he would never let her go. The kiss, it had given him a taste of what was to come, of Cara, and damn, she’d tasted sweet with a hint of bitterness from the coffee. Sweeter than any woman he’d kissed, but there hadn’t been many and his last kiss was a long time ago. He didn’t like to kiss the whores. Not because they took other men’s cocks into their mouth, though that too if he was perfectly honest with himself, but mostly because it was too intimate. He’d never understood the value of kissing, when sex and a blowjob brought quicker satisfaction, but since the first time he’d seen Cara’s pink lips, he’d wondered how it would be to kiss her. In the beginning it had been a ridiculous fantasy, one that would never come true, but then it had become a possibility.
He stared down at her furious face, and the hard set of her lips. He wanted to kiss her again, taste her again, but he had learned to control his desires. The way she looked at him now, reminded him of the first time they’d met, of the looks every woman in society gave him. He stepped back before his anger could get the better of him like it had last time. He didn’t have time for another visit with Lola. And if he was honest, it had been as satisfying with her as usual.
Then take Cara. She’s yours.
She was. But he couldn’t imagine treating her like he treated Lola. Not just because Cara wouldn’t react the way Growl wanted but also because he didn’t like the idea of treating her that way. She was too precious.
He backed away from her and took up his phone again. Falcone wanted to see him in the afternoon. Growl doubted the man had a real job for him. Falcone wanted to hear gruesome details of what Growl had done to Cara.
He glanced her way. She still sat on the counter where he’d put her but she’d crossed her legs protectively and was watching him cautiously. Even like that, she managed to look graceful and ladylike, and absolutely out of place in his house.
Perhaps Falcone hadn’t just meant Growl as a punishment for Cara. Perhaps he’d also hoped to put Growl in his place, to show him that despite his years of service, he still wasn’t worthy.
CHAPTER TEN
Cara
My lips were still tingling from his kiss despite the disgust and anger toward Growl. He backed away slowly, with an expression I could not decipher. I hopped off the counter, wanting to get out of this compromising situation, and froze with fear when both dogs jumped up from where they’d rested in the corner of the kitchen.
The only dog I’d had closer contact to over the years had been Anastasia’s Chihuahua that she’d bought after it became an essential fashion item according to the magazines she perused. But that dog had been the size of a guinea pig with teeth barely strong enough to scratch one’s skin. These dogs however were monstrous in size and most likely character, just like their master. I sucked in my breath and backed up against the counter again. There was nowhere else I could go, and the way they watched me they would probably follow me anyway. My heartbeat fastened and I seized up completely.
The dogs didn’t move either but they looked tense as if they were ready to lunge at me if I moved the wrong way. Growl gave me a look that made it clear he thought I’d lost my mind, but he obviously wasn’t someone I trusted when it came to judging the danger and monstrosity of his dogs.
“If you act scared, you’ll make them suspicious,” he said like I was a child.
I glared at him. His words only worsened my fear and made me tense even more. Growl set down his coffee again and watched me like he was trying to figure something out. My own eyes darted between him and his dogs.
Growl stalked toward me, his arm coming my way. I flinched away, expecting a punch. He looked frustrated.
He froze with his arm in midair and the lack of understanding on his face grew even more.
“What are you doing?” he rumbled, slowly lowering his muscled arm. There were more scratches on his upper arm I noticed now. I was pretty sure they couldn’t all come from me. A red dot began spreading on his bandages slowly, and I grimaced. Growl lowered his gaze to his injured forearm and blew out a breath. “You are a lot of trouble,” he said merely. He raised his eyes to mine. I couldn’t read his expression.
“Maybe you should go see a doctor,” I said instead of the nasty comeback I had in mind. So far Growl had been more civil than I’d thought possible and I couldn’t risk provoking him into a change of mood.
“I don’t need doctors. I stitched the wound up myself. I’ve done it before. But you cut me pretty deep and I shouldn’t move the arm so much.”
I’d thought I’d barely left a mark on him with the knife from his reaction yesterday, but he was probably too careful to show the extent of his injury during a fight. Though calling the short struggle between us a fight was laughable.