The Penalty Box (Vancouver Wolves Hockey #3)(74)

“You taste fucking amazing,” he managed between kisses.

He backed me into the bedroom, with a trail of clothes behind us.





*



Two hours later, I lay on the bed, buck naked. Mica was on his stomach beside me, tracing circles on my back.

I giggled when his stomach growled loudly. “Do you need to be fed and watered?”

“I do if you want round two.”

I thought about that. “I have some pasta sauce that we can heat up. We just need to cook the pasta.”

He slapped my ass. “Yes, wench. Go cook for your husband.”

We cooked together. I did the salad, and he heated the food. I was in the middle of telling him a story about Sniper, when he interrupted.

“What’s this?” His voice sounded slightly strangled.

I glanced up to see that he held the envelope of cash from Yazimoto.

I put down the knife. “I was going to talk to you about that.”

“Am I going to like this story?”

I swallowed. “Probably not.”

I explained how Yazimoto had shown up here, begging me to take the money back and call off “my dogs.”

“I don’t think he’s the one who’s been trying to scare me. He didn’t have a clue what I was talking about.”

Mica crossed his arms. “Go on.”

“He admitted that one of his guys set my old place on fire, but everything else he swore he knew nothing about. I believe him.”

Mica’s eyes narrowed. “So he gave you all of your money back?”

“He gave it back and told me my debt was forgiven. He also said my brother’s debt was forgiven. Mica, he looked really scared.”

Mica spoke slowly. “If Yazimoto hasn’t been harassing you, who has been?”

“I don’t know.”

He stood up and looked across the room. “I don’t like this.”

“Maybe it’s some kids playing a prank.”

He turned to me. “This stuff has gone beyond a prank.”

The conversation was over but it had put a damper on our night. Mica was distracted, and only when I climbed into bed naked did he seem like himself.





*



We were down to one car again, since Mica’s car was still in the shop for repairs. He used my car during the day and then came to pick me up.

I looked in the back when I got in. “Where are the dogs?”

“Sniper is babysitting Sasha for us.”

I smiled. “Oh, I bet he loves that job.”

Mica put a big hand on the back of my neck. “I thought I’d take you out for dinner.”

“That’d be nice.” I looked down at my work clothes. “Do I need to change?”

He leaned in and dropped a kiss on my mouth. “Nope, you look perfect.”

The restaurant was a cozy, dimly lit place that offered secluded seats and a fabulous menu. As I took in the romantic ambiance of the place, I wondered if Mica had brought his previous dates to this place. I could easily imagine him cuddled up in some booth with a half-clad bunny.

While we looked at the menu, I looked up at him. “What’s good here?”

His eyes met mine over his menu. “I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before.”

I hid my smile behind my menu. “Okay.”

He leaned forward. “Hey.”

I met his eyes. “What?”

“I will never take you to a place where I wined and dined someone else, okay? I respect you too much for that.”

I lifted my chin. “I wasn’t thinking about that.”

He didn’t believe me but he smiled and said, “Okay.”

We were finishing our meal when someone pulled up a chair and plopped himself down.

Mica rolled his eyes. “Detective Wallace.”

The larger man looked around our table and helped himself to some bread. “I was just walking by and I saw you sitting here.”

Mica looked less than impressed. “You must have something big to tell me if you’re stalking me now.”

“I was looking into your car situation and wondering why someone would want to destroy your property. Nine out of ten times, this comes down to an owner pulling an insurance fraud scam.”

“I already told you. I didn’t wreck my car.”

Detective Wallace chewed his bread. “No, but it warranted a closer look at your finances and I did a little digging.”

Mica’s jaw tightened. “That’s enough.”

The man ignored him while wiping his hands on his suit pants. “My question is, why does a son of one of the wealthiest oligarchs in Russia change his last name and move to Canada to play hockey for a fraction of what his family is worth?”

This conversation wasn’t making sense.

Mica leaned in and hissed, “Shut the fuck up.”

Detective Wallace carried on. “You don’t have money issues. Your issue is what to do with all that money. You’re the only heir to a billionaire. Why bother getting your Porsche fixed? Why not throw it out and buy a new one?”

Mica looked at me. His face was a mask of resignation. He looked at Detective Wallace and said, “You’re such a fucking dick.”