I was still shaking.

I’d had a few brief moments alone when I ducked into the bathroom before the cops said they needed to get my statement. In those moments, I’d sagged down onto the floor, covering my face with my hands.

The tears hit hard and fast. In the end, Brooks had to come for me. He helped me up and held me close, stroking my back as he murmured into my ear.

Most of what he said was just nonsense, calming murmurs of Shhh…and it’s okay.

Once my heartbeat returned to normal, though, he put his lips to my ear and told me we had to coordinate our statements. “Don’t tell them anything other than what happened here. Keep the focus on Marcos and don’t tell them about the families or anything, okay?”

It was a good thing he’d reminded me, because once I started talking, I likely would have blurted out my entire story, from beginning to end.

The female cop sat at the table with me taking down my statement, noticing me rubbing my hands up and down my arms, trying to warm myself. She paused my interrogation and asked, “Would you like some coffee? A blanket?”

Out in the hall, another cop was taking Brooks’ statement. I wanted more than anything for this whole mess to be over.

“I just want to get through this,” I said. My teeth chattered, though, and the cop put her pen down.

Without another word, she rose and went into the brightly lit, open living room and found the blanket I’d been using earlier. She came back and draped it around my shoulders.

“It’s the adrenaline,” she said softly. “It can make you crash pretty hard. Are you sure you don’t want some coffee? It would help.”

I shot a look around but couldn’t see Brooks, so I finally nodded. “I’ll make it,” I said. “It will give me something to do.”

“Of course.” She smiled at me, and the two of us went into the kitchen.

I clutched the blanket around me like a shawl and started in on the coffee. I decided to make a full pot. I had no idea how much time this could take and figured the cops wouldn’t mind a coffee break at some point.

Once I figured out Brooks’ high-tech coffee maker, I opened all the cupboard doors until I rounded up cups, sugar, and checked for cream in the fridge. I had to settle for a half-gallon of milk, and under the circumstances, I figured no one would complain.

The simple task calmed me, and as the scent of coffee filled the air, I looked over at the officer and summoned up a smile. “Just doing something with my hands helps a little,” I told her. “We can continue if you want.”

“We’ll get some coffee first.” She patted my shoulder, joining me at the counter. “I’m glad you’re not so shaky now.”

With a wan smile, I said, “The shakes will probably come back.”

“That’s normal.” Her gaze was sympathetic. “It sounds like you had quite a scare.”

I nodded, the images of Marcos and his threatening crew keeping me on the verge of tears.

I took one taste of the steaming hot brew and felt instantly better. Not good, but better. The heat hit my belly and spread through my entire body, chasing away the lingering chill. A few more minutes passed before we returned to the table with our cups.

“I’m good now,” I said, nodding at the cop.

She picked up her pad and pen again before asking to start at the beginning, to walk her through what had happened from the moment Marcos had broken inside to the cops arriving on the scene.

I answered as honestly as I could, although when she asked if I knew why Marcos wanted to grab me, I floundered a bit. “He’s been giving me trouble ever since I went to his sister’s wedding.”

I gave an abbreviated version of the events, struggling to keep everything in order while at the same time keeping the Downings and the Castellanos, save for Marcos, out of it.

I didn’t spare a whit of concern for Nadia as I told her that somehow, my former instructor and Marcos seemed to have teamed up in an effort to force women into working for them.

The cop wrote furiously, pausing now and then to ask more questions, which I answered as best as I could.

“So, after you left New York yesterday, you came down here with your boyfriend, Brooks Downing.” She reached for her coffee cup as she looked up at me.

I nodded. My cup was more than half empty now, but the lingering warmth was comforting.

“I didn’t think Marcos would come here,” I said softly. “I was sure he wouldn’t want to drag Brooks into this.”

“It would appear Brooks pushed his way into it,” she noted. “Why weren’t the cops notified to begin with?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.” It was a lie, but I couldn’t exactly tell her that by the time I realized how much trouble I was in, Brooks was already working to take care of matters on his own.

After a few more questions, she flipped her notebook shut. “I’ll have the formal statement drawn up within the next day or so. I’ll need you to come to the station and sign off on it.”

As she rose from her chair, Brooks came in and walked straight over to me. He crouched in front of me, reaching up to brush my hair back. “Are you okay?”

“Fantastic,” I said with a shaky smile.

A faint grin crooked the corner of his mouth, although a shadow passed through his eyes.

“I bet you are.”

He straightened and spoke briefly to the officer who’d taken my statement. Exhaustion slammed into me. Dropping my chin into my hand, I closed my eyes while all the noise around me faded away.

A hand touched my shoulder.

With a startled yelp, I swung out with my fist.

Brooks caught my wrist. He’d once more knelt beside the chair, and the unexpected touch of his hand had scared the hell out of me.

“It’s okay,” he said, drawing my clenched fist to his lips. “It’s just me.”

Dazed, I looked around.

“Where are the cops?” I asked.

“They left about fifteen minutes ago.” He watched me with concern in his eyes. “You fell asleep at the table. I was going to see if you wanted to lie down.”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“You won’t be.” He stood and held out a hand. “Come on. We can at least settle down on the couch. You’ll be more comfortable.”

We had no sooner sat down than Brooks’ phone rang. I curled up against him, close enough to hear Sean’s voice come over the line.

With closed eyes, I rested my head against his shoulder.

A few moments later, he was gently shaking me awake.

“Sean and Isabel need to talk to us. They’d like to do it today if you’re up to it.”

I wasn’t really, but I pasted a smile on my face. “Sure. Could use the distraction.”

I got up and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Once I was done, I returned to find my suitcase on the bed. I’d never unpacked last night. Fortunately, I own very little clothing that didn’t travel well. I pulled out a black sundress, bra, and panties, concentrating on those mundane tasks as if getting dressed took all my focus.

Hearing a noise behind me, I looked up. The mirror in front of me showed Brooks’ reflection, and I offered a tentative smile. “I’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

He nodded and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “I’ve already called for the car to be brought around. Should be ready by that time.”

In the bathroom, I used a towel to dry my hair as best as I could. I needed to get a hairdryer that I could use here.

Once I’d towel-dried away as much excess moisture as I could, I twisted my hair up into a knot, stabbing it with pins to keep it in place.

I found Brooks in the living room, talking quietly on the phone.

He looked me up and down, his eyes taking a leisurely path along my body.

Just that look made me shiver, and I wished like crazy that we didn’t have to drive to New York.

But I gave him a determined smile when he lowered the phone and put it away. “I’m ready.”

Isabel kept sweeping between rage and guilt. We had opted to eat in, due to how much we needed to discuss and how much of it would be sensitive information, as Sean had phrased it.

The first thing Brooks had done when we got to their apartment was look directly at Isabel and give her the bad news. “Marcos is in police custody,” he said simply. As Isabel’s eyes darkened in confusion, Brooks looked at me. “Go ahead. Tell them.”

I proceeded to detail the break-in.

For the past ten minutes, Isabel had been pacing, and now she swung around to look at me. “You’re not hurt, are you?” she demanded.

“No,” I told her, shaking my head. Brooks was sitting down next to me, holding my hand. I gave him a quick look, then faced Isabel again. “Brooks got there before anything bad could happen.”

Brooks lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “You bought time so I could get there. So the cops could get there.”

Isabel closed her eyes, covering her face with her hands. “I can’t believe this shit is really happening,” she murmured. “I just can’t believe it. Daria, Brooks, I am so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I told her, shaking my head. “None of it. And you’re the one who got me out of the club. You helped me, even knowing it might piss your family off.”

She managed a wan smile. “About that…I think the heat’s off me now. Dad’s pissed, though, and he doesn’t even know about this yet.”

“I don’t know about that,” Brooks said as he checked his watch. “I knew you two were talking to Basilio and my father today, so I didn’t reach out to him yet, but I’ve told Declan.” He paused a moment, then added, “To put it mildly, Declan is furious. He had concerns about all of this from the beginning, and I have little doubt he’s already told my father.”

Brooks’ phone rang before he even finished speaking, and he shot a look at it. He didn’t take the call but fired off a text. He glanced up as he put his phone away again. “That was my father. I’m betting he knows.”

“We need to tell Basilio,” Sean said quietly. He whistled a slow breath that spoke to his concerns. “I’m not looking forward to that call. It was rough enough explaining our suspicions about the club. I…shit. I didn’t even think about it until now. It’ll get even uglier when he finds out that Nadia was involved in all of this.”

“Will he?” I asked skeptically. “He already knows I was forced to dance at the club after what happened with Leon Delgado.”

Sean shook his head. “It’s different when it’s kids, Daria.”

“I’m glad you all think so, but after what I’ve been through, I doubt it will change my opinion much on the man.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Isabel flinch. Turning my gaze to her, I gentled my voice. “It doesn’t change anything between us, Isabel. At least, I don’t want it to.”

“It won’t,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m so done with this bullshit, the lies and everything else.” She came over and sat next to me, hugging me close. “I’m sorry for everything, Daria. I should—”

“Don’t.” I squeezed her hand. “It’s over. We don’t need to rehash it, okay?”

She rested her head on my shoulder. “I can tell you that some good will come of this. My father’s already working to take care of the problem with the girls who have been forced to dance there.”

My breath caught in my throat as I dared to hope. “The young ones?”

“No. All of them. He contacted Duardo before we were even done talking and told him to take care of it.” She made a face and pressed her fingers to her temple. “He’s not happy about it, but I think he realizes Marcos has put him in a very bad position and he has to fix it.”

Sean spoke up, drawing our attention to him. “I can tell you that from my talk with Dad earlier, he’s probably even more pissed at Basilio—and some of that is directed at Basilio. This…arrangement between the families is over.” He cleared his throat and glanced at me before focusing back on Brooks. “I think there will be a serious shake-up in the family business once this is all said and done. If he’d gotten caught up in any sort of scandal that involved kids, we’d have more trouble on our hands than we could deal with.”

“What do you mean…shake-up?” Brooks asked softly.

“Just that.” He skimmed a hand back over his hair, brooding. “He said, and I quote, ‘Maybe it’s time we get out of this while we can.’” He flicked a look at me again, and his face went ruddy. “I think he’s feeling pretty pissed and guilty over everything that’s happened since the wedding. Dad’s no white knight, but maybe if we’d been more careful, this shit show could have been avoided.”

“Do you think your father meant it?” I asked Brooks on the interstate back to Philadelphia. We’d left New York behind maybe forty-five minutes ago, and the traffic had finally eased up. Driving in and around the city always made me panicky. It was like the drivers in that area lived by their own set of rules. It wasn’t for the faint-hearted.

Brooks handled his car like a pro, and I contented myself with staring out the window, but my mind had been whirling the entire time.

Now, as the city and traffic faded away, I looked back over at him.

He kept his attention on the road, but I knew he was considering my question.

“I think he probably will. He’s had too many close calls in Philly, and after this mess with the Castellanos…” He shrugged. “I’ve been trying to turn him onto real estate and investing. Maybe he’s finally decided it’s worth a shot.”

“Will you all be okay?” I asked. “I mean, if Marcos goes in there and starts running his mouth to cover his ass, do you think he could drag your family into it?”

“I think…” he said after a minute, “that Marcos will have his hands full. His father isn’t going to rush in and save him. And I know Basilio. He’s a paranoid old bastard. Chances are that for any piece of dirt Marcos might turn over on him, Basilio will have a dumpster full on his son.”

“Family loyalty,” I said faintly.

“Marcos doesn’t understand loyalty.” Brooks shook his head. “He only understands money.”

I didn’t entirely agree. There was more to Marcos’ actions than a simple grab for money. I remembered the look in his eyes the night he came into my room at the club. It was a look that would haunt me. Predatory, cold…amused by my fear and anger. He liked hurting people, liked scaring them. That wasn’t motivated by greed. A lust for power, maybe, but not greed.

I kept the thought to myself, though, and went back to staring out the window.

I didn’t want to think about Marcos anymore. I’d never think of him again if I had my way, although that wasn’t likely. I had every intention of pressing charges against him, although I couldn’t be sure I’d be around long enough to follow through on that vow.

A huge yawn overtook me, and embarrassed, I covered my mouth. “Sorry.”

“It’s been a long day. Nothing to be sorry about.” Brooks took my hand. “Why don’t you try to nap? We’ve still got a little way to go before we get home.”

“I think I’ll try to do that,” I said softly. I closed my eyes. Sleep didn’t come right away.

I kept thinking about how Brooks had referred to his place as home.

I stood in front of the dresser, staring at the drawers Brooks had emptied out for me. Earlier, at Sean and Isabel’s, he’d suggested I pack up a few more things. I’d done so, since he’d already told me he wanted me to go back to Philadelphia with him.

I’d assumed it was just for a few days.

Now, as I studied the empty space he’d made for my clothes, I thought about what he’d said just days earlier—suggesting I move in with him if he got a place in New York.

There really wasn’t anything in New York to hold me there now. I’d been booted out of the school. I could always try to get accepted at a school here in Philadelphia, but I didn’t know if it would work.

Strong arms slid around me, and Brooks pressed up against my back. He dropped a kiss on my shoulder, smelling of soap and musk and man. He’d just finished showering, and judging by how much of his chest I could feel against my back, he hadn’t bothered putting on a shirt.

“You’re supposed to put clothes in there,” he said helpfully.

I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow. “Gee, you don’t say.”

He laughed and brushed his mouth down my neck. The simple caress made me shiver. He kissed my other shoulder, and I closed my eyes. I could so easily let him distract me.

But fears about INS had been nagging at me. I suspected I was focusing on that worry out of an unconscious desire to keep from thinking about what had happened earlier with Marcos, and how much worse things could have gotten. Regardless, I was having a very hard time not thinking about the phone call from Nadia, when she’d informed me she’d reported me to the INS.

“Is it a good idea for me to move in here?” I asked quietly, still staring at those empty drawers. “INS will show up sooner or later. Maybe it’s better if I just turn myself over to them and go back to Russia.”

“No.” Brooks tightened his arms and pressed his face into my hair. “You’re not going back to Russia. I’ve already taken care of the INS issue.”

I turned in his arms, studying his face skeptically. “What do you mean?”

“We’ll talk about it later.” He dropped his head down and caught my lower lip between his teeth.

My breath heaved as he tugged, then slowly let go. “Why can’t we talk about it now?” I had a good idea though.

“I have other things I want to talk about,” he said as he tugged me up against him. I felt the hard press of his cock against my belly.

“Really?” Rising up onto my toes, I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Just what is it that you want to talk about?” I gave him a long, slow grin. “Sir.”

“Let me show you.” His mouth claimed mine.

It was a slow, deep kiss. His tongue stroked over mine, seeking out the hollows of my mouth before withdrawing and starting the claiming all over again. He cupped my chin, angling my head back and deepening his possession.

Soon, I was rocking my hips against him, and he boosted me up, guiding my legs until I wrapped them around his body. He turned around and carried me over to the bed, setting me down like a delicate flower. When he stretched his long, muscled body on top of me, I thought I would die of anticipation. I slid my hands down his sides as he raked his teeth along the arch of my neck. “I like this conversation,” I whispered.

“Good. I’ve got a lot more I want to tell you.” He pushed up onto his hands and pressed the heavy length of his cock against me.

My dress was in the way, and he reached down, dragging the hem upward until I was bare up to my waist. This time, when he settled against the notch between my thighs, the only thing that separated us were my panties and the sturdy fabric of his jeans. I tugged frantically at his waistband. “I want these off,” I said, my breath coming in fevered pants.

“In a bit. I’m still…talking.” He trailed a line of kisses down my torso, and I whimpered in anticipation as he slid from the bed to his knees. He kissed me through my panties as he caught the silky material and started to drag it over my thighs.

I was already rocking up to meet his mouth even before he touched me. His lips sought my clit, and when he found it, he treated me to a taunting tongue lashing that had a fine sweat breaking out across my skin. Heat and pleasure blistered inside me and I whimpered, shoving my hands into his hair and clutching him tight against me.

He growled in response, and the vibration rocketed all the way through me.

Brooks slid his hands up my butt and arched me up, deepening the contact between his mouth and my heated, wet pussy.

“Please,” I whispered, not even knowing what I was asking for. More? For him to push me over the edge? For him to climb up my body and come inside me? Maybe all of the above? I didn’t know, I just knew I was pulsing with need.

He pushed two fingers inside my cunt and twisted them, eliciting a wailing, broken cry from my throat. My lungs seemed to constrict, and my skin seemed to shrink, feeling too tight and small for what was happening inside me.

I clung to his head and rocked up, that desperate need churning inside me.

“That’s it, baby,” he muttered. “Fuck my face…you taste so damn good.”

A litany of hot words fell from him, spoken against my wetness and driving me even higher up into the stratosphere.

He screwed his fingers in and out of my pussy, one hand still under my butt, tilting me, while he continued the erotic assault with his mouth.

He bit my clit lightly, and I jolted, a stunned, shocked climax ripping through me.

My heart was hammering, and blood roared in my ears. For a few seconds, I couldn’t even see beyond the starbursts exploding behind my eyes.

When I could see again, Brooks filled my vision, his beautiful face staring down at me. He slid up my body and threaded a hand through my hair, craning my head back as he slammed his lips down on mine.

At the same time, he used his knees to spread my thighs.

I groaned as he filled me, one deep, heavy thrust that sent my already overheated senses into a meltdown.

His kiss echoed the thrust of his hips against mine, the way he filled my pussy and my mouth. I bit his tongue and was rewarded with another heavy thrust.

Abruptly, he pulled away from me, and I cried out in dismay. But he persisted, rolling me onto my belly and catching my hips in his hungry hands.

He thrust into me again, hard and fast.

At the same time, he brought the flat of his hand down on my ass.

My bones were threatening to dissolve, and I had to lock my elbows to keep from melting onto the bedclothes as he rode me. It seemed his cock swelled and filled me even more with every thrust.

I thought the pleasure just might kill me.

He spanked me again. His voice came out in a raw, rough rasp as he said, “Look at how pretty and pink your skin turns for me, Daria.”

In contrast to the heavy thrusts and the sweet burn as he spanked me, he gently traced his fingers across my ass. He caught one cheek and spread me open, exposing me even more as he settled into a rough rhythm that soon had me streaking straight toward another orgasm.

Behind me, I heard him grunt.

Then I felt his thumb pressing against my ass. Without thinking, I pushed down against the intrusion, and he sank his digit inside me. I moaned, the still-unfamiliar touch turning my bones to mush.

I sank down into the bed, clutching the sheets for dear life. He lifted my hips and kept me pressed to him, for his pleasure, for his possession. For him.

He slammed into me one more time, gripping my hips and holding me in place. I erupted into the climax that had been looming just out of my reach, and as I bucked and thrust against him, I felt him come too.

Long moments passed. I snuggled up against his chest, shivering a little as the sweat on my skin dried.

“You’re cold,” he murmured. His voice was heavy with fatigue.

I started to tell him I was fine, that I didn’t want either of us to move. But he’d already sat up and snagged the comforter, flipping it over us.

“I think we’re supposed to be under the covers,” I said, smiling as I wiggled in just a little closer.

“Give me any sass, and you will be under me.”

I laughed. “Didn’t we already do that?”

“It’s not enough,” he said with a hard sigh. “It’s never enough.” He kissed my shoulder, then pushed up to brush my hair aside. Pressing his lips to my ear, he murmured, “I love you, Daria.”

I squeezed my eyes closed. “I love you too.”