Wolfe dragged in a lungful of air. Cleared his mind. When was the last time he’d reacted on impulse? Never. Impulse had no place in the business world or his personal life. Sure, it may be an illusion of control, but it worked for him. He’d been in and out of enough shrinks’ offices to know his way around the mental blocks and issues a screwed-up individual created for survival. He hated therapy, but he’d gone for Sawyer because he never wanted his honorary stepfather to wonder if he could’ve done more. Sawyer had saved him—both literally and figuratively. He had a life he wanted to live because the man he pickpocketed cared enough about him to try and make a difference.
Wolfe shook his head as the past reared up. He’d been living on the streets, and began staking out big luxury hotels like the Waldorf for patsies. Stealing uniforms and pretending to fit in was easy, but he’d picked the wrong mark. Sawyer was street-smart and superrich, and had dragged his ass to the management.
Wolfe remembered the sick fear when he realized he was going to jail. Instead, Sawyer offered him a bargain. Work for him, and he’d stay out of jail. The judge had agreed. The night before Sawyer was about to pick him up, Wolfe realized he was terrified. He didn’t want a chance at a life he’d only screw up. He refused to trust anyone anymore, so he’d hurriedly gotten his tat, styled his hair in a bizarre mockery of Johnny Depp, and pierced his face in every way possible.
When Sawyer picked him up, Wolfe waited for him to call off the whole deal.
Sawyer didn’t. The man took him to Italy and gave him the opportunity to learn the hotel business. Sawyer built Purity, the luxury hotel chain, beginning in Milan, and Wolfe had learned everything from the ground up. But the man had given him much more than a job and some security. He took him into his life and his heart. When Sawyer finally met and fell in love with Julietta, they both welcomed him and created a family together.
When Sawyer asked him to get a college education so he could eventually run the Purity location in New York City, he’d agreed. The rest of the Conte family took good care of him during his school years, like an adopted family. Who would’ve known he’d meet the third most important person in his life at a family dinner? Gen treated him like an equal from the first. She cared about the man he was becoming, not the dark, twisted creature he’d lived as in his past. Their friendship bloomed through college and just kept getting stronger.
Gen let out a throaty groan and his thoughts got dragged back to the kiss. He’d only meant to prove a point before he took off to batter the hell out of her ex-fiancé. Instead, he got sucked in, forgetting it was a lesson, forgetting they were more than the physical. His instincts kicked in, along with the testosterone, and all he’d been able to concentrate on was the softness of her body underneath his, and her delicious scent that always made him half-drunk. Who else smelled like fresh wildflowers and Ivory soap? He was used to exotic perfumes meant to seduce. Instead, her simplicity beat through her kiss, an honest reaction from her gut that intoxicated him more than any Playboy bunny or supermodel could. The hitch in her breath, the fullness of her breasts, the easy way she’d spread her legs in greeting as if he belonged inside her.
Wolfe gritted his teeth and fought for control. This could never happen again. He’d play it as if they were both drunk, emotionally wrung out, and impulsive. Hell, he’d never even bring it up again. Maybe she wouldn’t remember. He’d never forgive himself if any part of their relationship changed or got weird from the kiss.
His tongue dragged over his lower lip and caught her taste. He squeezed his eyes shut and burned the memory into his brain for safekeeping. For those lonely, horrific nights when he craved something beautiful to help him get through the hours in the dark.
When his breathing was regulated, Wolfe slipped his hand from hers and stood up. She frowned in her sleep and rolled a bit, as if reaching for him. He left the bottles outside, figuring he’d clean up in the morning, and easily scooped her up into his arms. She was a perfect bundle of feminine softness, and her head buried against his chest in complete trust.
His stomach lurched but he managed to carry her to the cabin, get her inside, tuck her carefully into bed, and pull the covers up to her chin. He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. Those pale pink lips quirked upward in a sleepy half smile.
How anyone would want to hurt her was beyond him. Wolfe swore to get to the bottom of that mess and find out what really happened. Definitely some type of abuse. She’d kept her secrets well. Almost as well as he did.
He shut the door, stripped off his clothes, and lay on the mattress. His body twitched with leftover energy and sexual arousal, but eventually the events of the day took their toll.