“No I don’t.”
The corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile. “You’re going to ruin them for the real world.”
“That’s what I’m here for, baby,” Dominic said softly. “To keep the real world at bay. Now go to bed. I’m going to give Max a call. See what he knows about this nightclub. I don’t want this incident to turn into a scandal.”
“Don’t stay up too late. The children wake early.” Dominic had never missed a breakfast with his children.
“I know. I’ll keep an eye on the clock.” He blew her a kiss. “Sleep tight.”
A short time later, Rafe walked into his house and wasn’t surprised to find Carlos seated on the stairs in his usual uniform: black jeans, black lace-up boots, and a T-shirt from some obscure Basque or African band.
Carlos lifted his chin just a fraction. “Now what?” he said mildly.
Rafe kept moving. “I apologize to Knight, then get Nicole back.” He gestured to him to follow. “I have some calls to make. After that you can bitch at me.”
Simon had come in and followed Carlos into Rafe’s office. “Get comfortable, guys,” Rafe said. “Have a drink. This’ll take a few minutes.” Grabbing a mineral water from the drinks caddy, Rafe moved to his desk, dropped into his chair, and reached for the phone.
It rang at length, then kicked to voice mail.
Rafe redialed. Twice.
“You’re persistent,” Alessandra mumbled when she finally answered. “Are you sober?”
“More or less. And this time I really apologize for waking you,” Rafe said in Italian. “Charge me for the inconvenience, but I need some gifts delivered to me before breakfast. Children’s’ gifts. I’m in Paris. A girl five, a boy two and a half. Don’t have the gifts wrapped. It’s just a gesture.”
“How big a gesture?” Alessandra had come alert, her voice crisp.
“Four or five presents each. Whatever you think children that age would like. Their mother is some incredible computer brain, so maybe something electronic for each of them. This is in the way of an apology to Dominic Knight. They’re his kids. We had a little run-in tonight. He took Nicole back to his place.”
She snorted. “He’s not going to let you get near them. I don’t mind taking your money, but he has security on top of security.”
“I’m working on that. By the way, Nicole says thank you for the clothes.”
“No, she doesn’t. I talked to Basil. She didn’t want to take them.”
“She likes them now. I can be persuasive,” he said, a smile in his voice.
“I’ve heard that,” she murmured, amused. “Didn’t you know she was Dominic’s niece?”
“No. If she mentioned it, I didn’t hear it.”
“So tonight he came to save his niece from the notorious Rafe Contini. Where were you?”
“The Chandelier Club.”
“Could have been worse.”
“That’s what I thought, but apparently he’s become a fucking saint. Or hypocrite.”
“Or just protective of his niece. Men make those kinds of distinctions.”
“Whatever. His female classification system’s not my problem. Nicole doesn’t want to be at his place. She’s been texting me. So find me something his kids will like. Diplomats always bring gifts, right? No later than nine thirty. Now, I still have some calls to make, so I gotta go. Thanks, Alessandra, you’re my savior. Ciao.”
Leaning back in his chair, Rafe opened his arms wide and smiled at Carlos, who was sitting across the desk from him in a high-backed tapestry chair, his fingers lightly stroking the lion heads carved on the chair arms. “Hit me. Once you’re finished telling me to cut her loose, I have to call Gina.” A small lift of his brows. “So how did I step outside the lines?”
“Irrelevant,” Carlos said, not prickly or urgent, just moving on. “We’re on damage control now. First, you should let her go. Seriously. No joke. Send the lady a nice gift and a thank-you—even write it yourself if she matters more than the others. But she’s in the way. You have too much going on right now with Ganz’s war on the horizon. You don’t have time for fucking.”
“I’ll make time. And it’s not just that. It’s”—a slow headshake—“different and strange and I don’t know… a revelation.”
“Whatever it is, you’ll be putting her in danger. Knight’s not going to like that.”
“He won’t know.”
“He’ll know. He’s on the phone right now checking out every detail of your life down to your dick size. He protects his own—without mercy. A few years ago, when the Balkan Mafia tried to mess with him, they lost so many men they gave up; when he and his boys got caught in a firefight in Angola they all came out alive—which is more than you could say for the other side. The two big time bankers in Singapore he personally threatened are still shitting their pants. He’s not someone you want to fuck with.”