Chapter One

 

Six weeks later

“You work too hard.”

Rogan glanced up, unsurprised to see Miller sitting on the stairs, staring down at him. Most nights he found her there, waiting. So he’d started coming home later and later in an attempt to avoid her.

Coward.

“And you should be in bed, not sitting alone in the dark.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Yeah, he knew all about insomnia. Rogan reached over and turned on the table lamp, lighting the dark with a soft glow. He should send her to bed.

She sat halfway down the stairs, her arms around her drawn-up knees.

“You changed your hair color,” he commented.

She shrugged. “Got sick of red.”

The dark locks suited her better. Although she always looked beautiful. Even when she’d decided to dye her hair gray. Why a twenty-four-year-old would want to be gray, he’d never know. But she’d changed it again a few days later.

She colored her hair in an attempt to find her identity after everything she’d gone through. He could relate. After Rogan realized he would never get away from the gang, he’d gone through a period of wondering who he was.

Sometimes, he still wasn’t sure.

“Looks good,” he told her gruffly.

She smiled. “Thanks. You know, anyone would think you were trying to avoid me.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. The chill in his voice should have dissuaded her from questioning him further.

Unfortunately, while his tone would have others quaking in their shoes, Miller smiled. She had no sense of self-preservation. She needed a keeper.

Not you. She’s not yours.

She was his responsibility while she stayed with him. He was supposed to be offering her support not running from her.

“You’re out most of the night and day. I’m not even sure when you sleep.”

He didn’t. Not really.

“Are you okay?” Did he ask her often enough? Crap, he was doing a shit job of looking after her.

His attraction to her seemed to grow with every moment he was in her company. His solution? Avoid her.

For the past five weeks, they had lived together and he was slowly going insane. His right hand ached. He could imagine the expression on his doctor’s face if he complained of carpal tunnel syndrome from jerking off too much.

He’d offered Miller a place to stay because he’d been unable to take the thought of her unprotected and alone. Because he wanted to be the one to take care of her.

Because he wanted her.

“I’m busy,” he told her. “Got nothing to do with you.”

The flash of pain on her face sent a stab of shame through him. Putting space between them was the smart thing to do. And he always did the smart thing.

Except when it came to her, apparently.

“Come into the kitchen, sweetheart.”

Damn it. Now, why had he gone and called her sweetheart? He silently swore as he strode into the kitchen. Miller followed him, taking a seat on one of the barstools.

Her small frame was dwarfed by a large T-shirt that reached her knees. Large brown eyes watched him with a hint of wariness. Those lush, full lips featured heavily in his fantasies. He imagined them wrapped around his cock, sucking him deep into the warm confines of her mouth.

Rogan swallowed heavily as he filled up the kettle and turned it on. He moved around the kitchen, searching for things to keep him occupied so he didn’t have to look at her. Didn’t matter anyway. He had every feature memorized, from her pert, upturned nose to her stubborn chin, and those long, thick eyelashes, the perfect frame for her chocolate-brown eyes.

She’d started to gain some much-needed weight and her face no longer had a gaunt, starved look.

“Here, drink this.” He placed a cup of tea in front of her.

Miller took a sip, wrinkling her nose. “Chamomile?”

“It will help you sleep.”

“So will a shot of scotch, and it doesn’t taste like flowers.”

“This is better for you,” he countered.

“Thanks, Dad.”

He sent her a stern look and, with a sigh of exasperation, she took another sip.

“Aren’t you worried I’ll get addicted to this stuff?” she asked dryly.

“Nah, it tastes like crap. No one could get addicted to herbal tea.”

She smiled and his heart lightened.

“Now why are you having trouble sleeping?” If someone told him a year ago he’d be standing in his kitchen with a beautiful woman, just talking, he’d have laughed. His involvement with the other sex took place in the bedroom. And not in his house. He had an apartment in the city for intimate encounters.

He’d had one real relationship in his life, years ago. It had taken him a long time to recognize Victoria was a taker. Longer than it should have.

“No particular reason,” she said, looking uncomfortable.

“The therapist said talking would help.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sick of talking,” she muttered. “All I do is talk and that damn therapist can kiss my ass.”

It was a hell of an ass.

Rogan cleared his throat. “The damn therapist charges through the nose.”

Miller paled then glanced down at her cup of tea. “I know. Sorry, I sound ungrateful.”

Tired, he spoke without thinking.

“All I meant is she’s paid to help you. If she’s not helping, then you need to tell me.”

“Like you don’t have enough problems.” She ran her finger along the top of her cup.

“What does that mean?”

“I know I’m just another thing on your list to worry about. You’ve already got enough on your plate.”

He frowned. Should he tell her he avoided her because she meant too much? Because she was coming to mean more to him than everything else?

Nope, bad idea.

“Miller, look at me.” He waited patiently, sipping his tea as she met his gaze. “If there is something going on, then I expect you to tell me.”

She let out an exasperated breath. “Me? I’m fine. You’re the one who’s out all hours of the night. Don’t you have men you can delegate to? You need your sleep as well. You’re going to get ill.”

She was scolding him? When was the last time someone had dared to scold him? Or cared about him? He warmed under her caring and he realized she was drawing him further under her spell.

Having her live with him played hell with his peace of mind.

 

 

***

 

“I’m fine, Tilly.” Miller stared at herself in the mirror as her best friend chattered through the phone.

Tilly’s happiness filled her voice. She’d finally found a man who adored her, who recognized the treasure she was.

Miller didn’t get the kinky stuff they enjoyed. Yeah, she could get into being tied up and fucked. But having your partner dominate you? Spank you?

Then again, would she object to Rogan putting her over his knee? To his commanding her in the bedroom? Her clit throbbed as pulses of desire raced through her.

She’d do whatever Rogan wanted.

“Miller? Miller, are you listening to me?”

“Sorry, Tilly, what did you say? I was distracted.” By the thought of Rogan kissing her, caressing her ass, squeezing her nipples.

Bad girl. Very bad girl.

“Is everything all right? Are you having problems? Is the therapy still helping? Are you exercising? Meditating?” Tilly fired the questions at her.

Her therapist insisted she exercise to get the endorphins flowing and meditating was meant to help keep down her stress levels.

Vital steps on the road to her recovery. Or so her doctor had told her. Ick.

She found exercise pretty much on par with getting a root canal and couldn’t sit still long enough to meditate.

“Woo, calm down. Take a breath.”

“Are you all right, Miller?”

“Sure, it’s all going great,” she said brightly.

“I know when you’re lying to me. Do you need me?”

Fantastic. She loved her friend. More than anyone else on this planet. But Tilly would smother her. She’d do it with the best intentions, but Miller needed to work out who she was now. She needed to figure out what to do with her life.

She wouldn’t be able to do that if Tilly was fussing over her.

“I’m coming down there,” Tilly said suddenly.

“No, Tilly, you’re not.”

“You sound funny. I’m worried about you. I knew you should have moved in with us. What does Rogan know about looking after you? The environment you’re in isn’t safe, Miller.”

She understood. Living with the boss of a gang would seem ludicrous to most people. Especially for someone who had been drugged and terrorized by another gang.

But she felt safer here than she ever had. No one would touch her while under Rogan’s protection. She’d always taken care of herself—having someone else look out for her was odd and wonderful all at the same time.

Don’t become too reliant on him. You won’t be here forever.

As much as she cared for Rogan, as attracted as she was to him, she held no illusion about who he was. And what he did.

“No one will hurt me while Rogan is around,” she told Tilly.

“Is he ever there? Because every time I’ve called you, he’s been out.”

“He works a lot.” Too much. He needed to delegate more. She knew he was under a lot of strain.

You could help ease the strain.

Nothing like a hard, hot fuck to ease the stress levels.

Down, girl.

Her libido raced out of control.

“Miller, please consider moving in with us. I promise not to fuss.”

“Uh-huh,” Miller replied skeptically.

“Well, I won’t fuss much. I nearly lost you.”

Miller could hear the pain in Tilly’s voice.

Guilt swirled in her stomach. Why did Tilly bother with her? She was nothing but trouble. Everyone else in her life had abandoned her. Her mother had run off. Her father had left her with her grandmother. He’d spent most of her childhood in and out of jail.

Her grandmother had believed children should be seen and not heard. She hadn’t believed in spoiling children with anything resembling praise or affection.

Tilly’s family semi-adopted Miller, opening their house to her and providing her with the love and affection she craved.

And how did she repay them? By nearly getting Tilly killed.

“Tilly, I am so sorry for what I did.”

“Miller, we are not doing this again.” The stern tone of Tilly’s voice surprised her.

“What do you mean?”

“You have apologized enough. You made a mistake. You didn’t set out to put me in danger. So chill. Javier told them I had their money. He was stupid enough to cheat them. He sold them drugs and took a bigger cut than agreed. He hid the money by exchanging the cubic zirconia in my grandmother’s ring with a real diamond. None of that was your fault. You were trying to figure out what happened to your mother and you ended up in a shitload of trouble. Concentrate on yourself. Don’t worry about you and me. We’re good.”

Miller blinked, surprised at the welling tears. “I’ve got to go. Need to exercise.”

“Okay,” Tilly said. “Call me tomorrow?”

Ahh, let me check my diary. Yep, surprisingly I’m free all day.

“Will do.” She ended the call and lay back on her bed.

“Miller, you are such a loser,” she muttered to herself.

No job. No house. No boyfriend.

Sad. Very sad.

She needed something to focus on. Something to keep her mind occupied.

Something to stop the cravings.

The thing is, sometimes she wondered what she craved more. The drugs. Or Rogan.

Neither of them would be good for her.

But damned if that stopped her from wanting them.

 

***

 

“What do you think about this?” Miller held up a fluffy, pink dressing gown.

“It looks like the Easter Bunny shed his skin,” Natalya replied.

“Well, I like it. It’s warm and fluffy.”

“And the least sexy thing I’ve ever seen.”

Perfect. She needed ways to keep herself from jumping Rogan’s bones because it was getting harder and harder to fight her attraction to him.

“That thing will cover you from head to foot,” Natalya told her.

“Good. I’m getting it.”

“Wait, you never buy anything, and now you’re buying this monstrosity?” Natalya peered at her. “Okay, what’s up?”

The woman was way too perceptive.

“Nothing’s up. I want to buy something, what’s so weird about that?”

Miller made her way over the counter, hoping to dissuade Natalya, who had been studying a slinky red nightgown that would look smoking hot against her tanned skin. Natalya was gorgeous with long, dark hair and a sweetly curved body.

“You should buy the red nightie,” Miller told her as she paid for the dressing gown. Yep, this robe would cover up her traitorous body, which seemed to take on a mind of its own when around Rogan. “You’ll look hot. Aedan won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

Natalya grinned. “He can’t keep his eyes off me anyway.”

“He adores you.” Miller couldn’t help but feel jealous. Aedan thought the sun rose and shone with Natalya. And he adored her little son, Mateo, even adopting him.

Mateo’s father, Diego Mota, had agreed to the adoption. It was probably for the best that Mota stayed out of Mateo’s life. As a lieutenant in the Fuerte cartel, Mota had done and seen some evil things. The cartels were not to be messed with.

“He does. Just like Rogan cares about you.”

Miller shook her head, grabbing the bag from the cashier with a smile of thanks.

“I know you think he’s interested in me but he’s not.” He’d never made any sort of move toward her. “He feels responsible me. He feels guilty because he believed Iker’s lies about me.” Iker had been holding her against her will, pumping her fill of drugs. But he’d told Rogan she was with him voluntarily. “He thinks what happened to me is partly his fault. That’s what you see in his expression. Guilt.”

Natalya sighed. “Come on, we need a drink. And by drink, I mean something rich, creamy, and delicious. Bit like Aedan.”

Miller rolled her eyes, following Natalya as she marched off. Natalya’s bodyguard, Caden, followed them. Colm hadn’t come, knowing Caden would watch over them both.

“We’re going for coffee, Caden,” Natalya informed him.

“Great,” he muttered unenthusiastically. Miller felt much the same way. Natalya would interrogate her until she got the answers she wanted. She might act like an angel, but the woman could have worked for the CIA.

Natalya led her into the closest café, choosing a booth right at the back.

“This feels like déjà vu,” Miller said as she slipped into the booth.

“So long as some crazy bitch doesn’t attack us in the bathroom.” Natalya grinned.

“She was freakishly strong. I understand why she stalked Aedan, though. The man is hot.” Miller fanned herself. Aedan looked like he’d dropped to earth straight from heaven. His gorgeous face had helped make him a huge movie star. He’d stopped making movies, but he remained a hunk.

The crazy blonde who’d been stalking him attacked Natalya in a public bathroom, but Natalya had gotten the upper hand. With a bit of help from Caden.

The waitress brought them two high-calorie concoctions. Miller took a big sip, her eyes nearly crossing as sugar rushed through her blood. “Wow, that’s rich.”

“Speaking of rich,” Natalya said. “Rogan is loaded but you’re always reluctant to spend his money. Now, all of a sudden, you want to buy a dressing gown thousands of bunnies had to die to make. What’s that about?”

“It’s not made of fur! Worst segue ever, by the way. I do not care whether Rogan is rich or poor. Bad enough he pays for the roof over my head and the food I eat. I don’t have the right to buy whatever I like with his money. It’s wrong.”

“So then why buy that god-awful dressing gown?”

Miller sighed. “You are so tenacious.”

“I know. It’s one of my best qualities.”

Miller rolled her eyes. “According to you. I need a barrier between us, I guess.”

“A barrier?” Natalya frowned. “Is he bothering you? I didn’t think Rogan would be the type.”

“No, he’s not bothering me.” Far from it. She was worried about jumping his bones.

“You sure? Because I could send Aedan around to deal with him.”

Aedan wouldn’t have a chance against Rogan. They might be cousins, but they had little in common.

“Rogan has been nothing short of wonderful. He paid for my rehab, he’s paying for my therapist, and he’s putting a roof over my head. I can never pay him back.”

Natalya frowned. “Is that what you think? You owe him? ’Cause everything you just talked about was to do with money.”

“I know Rogan doesn’t think I owe him. But I feel like a burden. I should have moved in with Dylan and Tilly.”

It might have made things a lot simpler.

“Your therapist is here. It would have been hard to change to someone new. Besides, I think you wanted to stay because you feel safe with Rogan.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rogan makes a person feel safe. I get it. I feel it, too. He would never let anyone hurt you. He takes care of those around him. I think you instinctively knew he wouldn’t let you down. He wouldn’t fail you.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s more than a friend.”

Natalya raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t he? I’ve seen the way you look at him, Miller. Deny it all you want, but you’re attracted to him.”

“Of course I am. He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met.” Although sexy didn’t even begin to describe him. He was gorgeous, dark. Dangerous.

Natalya sniffed. “Well, he’s no Aedan.”

“That’s why I need the damn robe. Because I need some sort of protection between us. Like you said, it’s the least sexy thing you’ve ever seen.”

Natalya raised her eyebrows. “You don’t want him to see you as sexy? News to Miller—you’d look sexy in a sack.”

“Why, Natalya, I didn’t know you liked me like that.”

“You wish. No way I could date someone with a bony ass. I like to have something to grab onto.”

Miller placed her hands over her ears. “Too much information.”

“Why don’t you want Rogan to notice you, Miller?”

Miller ran her finger through the condensation on her glass. “I can’t get involved with him.”

“Because of your recovery? Did your therapist tell you to steer clear of relationships?”

“No. My therapist is happy with my progress.” Even if it was slower than Miller would have liked. “Although, she’s advised me not to jump into anything.”

“Then, what is it?”

“Well, I haven’t known him long.”

“You’re living in his house. You know him a lot better than some people know each other before they get married.”

“Yes, but for half that time, I’ve been in rehab, recovering from a drug addiction. Not exactly a catch, am I?”

Natalya waved her hand in the air. “Oh, get over it. You were a victim. You are a strong person. Strong enough to fight your addiction day after day. You’re a damn sight more courageous than most people I know.”

Miller watched her, mouth open. “Wow. Thanks.”

“So, on to the next issue. I know you have a list. What else is there?”

Miller glared at her. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Well, maybe if you had a bit of meat on your ass, it wouldn’t be so painful.”

“Fine, if you must know everything. I always swore I wouldn’t get involved with someone like my father. He was in and out of jail throughout my childhood. After my mother up and left us, he dumped me at my grandmother’s and took off. I can’t be with someone like him.”

“Someone like what? A loser who abandons his family? Damn straight, you can’t be with someone like him. I’d have to send Aedan around to kick his ass. But if you’re trying to tell me Rogan is anything like your father, a man who would abandon his family for any reason, then you are not as smart as I thought.”

Natalya leaned forward. “I think your real issue is you’re scared to love him. You’re scared he’ll leave you. So you’ve come up with reasons to keep you apart so you can’t be hurt.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Miller replied. “I know Rogan would never abandon his family. He has far too much integrity. He would stick by them, no matter what.” As he’d stood by her. “But I don’t know if I can live with what he does. I’m not sure I can sit around and worry and wonder.”

Natalya snorted. “I can hardly see you sitting at home twiddling your thumbs. You’ll be out there somewhere, kicking ass. Rogan will probably be the one sitting at home, wondering what the hell you are up to. Miller, anyone can see you’re tough and smart. Once you get yourself back on track, you’re going to grab the world by its bits and shake it up. Yeah, what Rogan does isn’t easy to come to terms with. I know I used to judge him. In fact, I was a real bitch about it. But I figured out what Rogan does isn’t who he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rogan has done his best over the years to pull the gang into legit businesses. I’m not saying he and his men are angels or I agree with everything they do. But he has done his best to pull them out of the wrong side of the law. Brandt betrayed him because he didn’t agree with the direction he took the gang.”

Brandt had been Rogan’s second. He had secretly allied himself with Iker Florez, hoping to kill Rogan so he could take over the gang.

Thank God he hadn’t succeeded.

“Aedan said it’s made him question who he can trust. It’s a hard way to live, but Rogan does the best he can. It wasn’t the life he asked for. But that’s a whole other story and his to tell.”

“So why does he stay in the gang?”

“I don’t imagine there’s a way he can break free. Not without risking his people. And Rogan would never do that.”

No, he wouldn’t.

“I’ve always been so decisive. I know what I want and I go after it. But, with Rogan, I have no idea what I’m doing. He’s not the sort of man I wanted.” Not the sort of man she thought she should want, anyway.

“No?” Natalya took a sip of her drink. “I can feel my hips getting wider with each sip.”

“Oh, stop it. You’re gorgeous and you know it.”

“So you don’t want a man who is loyal, protective, hardworking, and loving?”

“Of course I do. But I always thought I would end up with a man who worked an ordinary job, who operated on the right side of the law.”

“But your heart doesn’t always listen to your head, does it? Look, I get where you’re coming from. I guess it comes down to what you care about more. Who he is or what he does.”

“I suppose so.”

“Sometimes you only get one shot at happiness, Miller. I was lucky enough to have a second chance. You might not be. I don’t want you to do or not do something you will later regret. Rogan might not be who you planned on loving, but perhaps he’s who you were meant to be with.”

“I never said I loved him.”

“No? Not even a little bit?” Natalya held her hands half a foot apart.

“Well, maybe this much.” Miller held her thumb and forefinger apart.

“Uh-huh, well let’s hope your love doesn’t match, ahem, other things. If you get my drift.”

Miller rolled her eyes. “You’re not exactly subtle, my friend. And I’m pretty certain I wouldn’t be disappointed. Besides, this is all moot if Rogan isn’t interested in me.”

“Oh, he’s interested. Believe me. I bet within the next month you’ll be in his bed.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the bet?”

“The loser has to make dinner for the four of us. Four courses.”

Jesus help her.

“Fine. You’re on.”