My thumb caresses the script up his forearm. “And the writing.” I glance up at him. “What does it say?”

“It’s an Italian proverb. Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back in the same box.”

I close my hand over the words, and it is as if they burn my palm. “In death we’re all equal.”

Surprise flickers in his eyes at my understanding of the meaning, but he’s no more surprised than I am. “Yes,” he confirms softly. “In death we are all equal.”

“Why that proverb?”

“It’s a reminder to us that no one, no matter how powerful, is better than The Underground.”

I reach for his other arm, and trace the image of a bird with bright blue extended wings etched across his wrist. “A hawk?”

“Right again.”

“Why a hawk, Kayden?” I ask, wanting, needing, to understand this man.

“It’s symbolic of me being a protector. I’m the leader of this division of The Underground, thus the protector of those reporting to me.”

“Like you’re protecting me.”

His eyes burn through me, and there is a swell of response in me that borders on longing. “Yes,” he agrees, a velvety quality to his voice. “Like I’m protecting you.”

I am seduced by this man, easily able to forget the questions in my mind, but I do not allow myself more oblivion to add to what is in my mind. “What kinds of things does The Underground find?”

“Whatever the client wants. It could be a car. A painting. A computer file, in Matteo’s case.”

“Do you break the law?”

There is a slight clench to his jaw, but his reply is instant. “Everything we do is not simple.”

The absence of denial is confirmation, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. “What did you find for the man who gave you the car?”

“His ex-wife, who ran off with his money.”

My throat thickens. “You found a person?”

“Yes,” he confirms, his expression unreadable. “I found a person.” Kayden covers my hand where it rests on his arm. “Just like I found you so no one else could. And no one else will. No amount of money will change that.”

I think of the car. “A million dollars is a lot of money.”

“I already have a lot of money.”

“What about the other members of The Underground?”

“The only ones who know about you are my inner circle; they won’t betray us. Besides, it would take a lot more than a million dollars to get the attention of any one of them.”

“What if it’s a lot more?”

“You’re safe. You have my word.” He releases me abruptly and steps back, and I can almost feel that wall slam between us again. “Let’s go inside.”

I frown, not sure what just happened, but then, this is my life, and what’s new? I want to ask, but one look at the steely set of his jaw and I decide better. I’ll figure him out inside. I walk toward the door, curious about his home, about him, this man who is my reluctant hero. I’m aware of him following me, and once I am at my destination, he is there too. My hand closes on the knob, but before I can turn it, he reaches around me, his hand covering mine, his warmth stealing the slight chill of the garage. “When I said you were safe,” he says softly, a hint of wickedness in his voice, “I meant from everyone but me.”

And somehow I know he’s testing me, asking for my trust when, for whatever reason, he doesn’t believe he deserves it. He doesn’t know what I know. Right, wrong, or dangerous, I already trust him. He steps back from me, and I don’t look back. I open the door and enter a corridor where a winding stone stairwell awaits me and start up the path that leads to both the king’s and the wolf’s domain. And with nothing but the clothes on my back and the purse he bought me, I am truly at his mercy.

ten

A wave of nerves settles deep in my belly and radiates lower and lower with each concrete step, and I really have no clue why. Oh yeah. I have a wolf at my back. A really sexy, rather cranky wolf, who I’m apparently about to be living with. In other words, he really does have me at his mercy, as he’s unapologetically made clear. So why am I not afraid of him? Nervous, yes. Afraid? No. Kayden does not scare me, and unlike last night, when I ran, I don’t seem to fear my lack of fear anymore. In fact, as I reach the top of the stairs and a huge dungeon-style dark wooden door greets me, my nerves are quickly replaced with the excitement of seeing the castle.

I quickly thumb down the door lever and shove it open, entering into a foyer with yet more stone beneath my feet, and I discover a giant winding staircase on the opposite side of the stunning room. In awe, I happily give Kayden space to enter behind me and cross to the center of the room, seeing towering dungeon doors to my left and right. Turning in a circle, I admire the intricate trim work around the walls with what appear to be handcrafted roses. There is a flicker of a memory in my mind that I reach for, though I do not believe it’s about this place, but another. He sent me roses. Dozens of roses. I frown, not sure where the words came from, but nothing else follows, and I let it go to look up and inspect the conical ceiling, with more of the same design dissecting it into quarters.

Kayden joins me, stopping in front of me, his eyes half veiled, his energy dark, his expression all hard lines and shadows. “It’s gorgeous,” I say, when he doesn’t speak. “How big is it?”

“There are three towers in total. The central tower behind us is about eight thousand square feet. The east and west towers, divided by this room, are both around six. Adriel, his sister, and the housekeeper live in the east. You’ll be staying with me in the west.”

I’ll be staying with him. This pleases me, though I suspect he simply wants to ensure I don’t lead him on another race through the rain and frigid temperatures.

“This way,” he says, motioning toward one of the dungeon doors.

I nod and follow him, watching as he keys in a code and then hits a button, and the massive wooden door begins to lift. “The door is code protected,” he tells me, “with an alarm if it’s breached. I change the code once a week, and each wing has its own code. Right now, ours is one-nine-eight-nine.”

“One-nine-eight-nine,” I repeat. “Got it. Is the central tower empty?”

“Adriel runs a high-end collectibles store out of it.”

“High-end collectibles?” I ask as we enter yet another foyer, with an archway directly in front of us that appears to lead to some sort of sitting room. “What do you mean by ‘high-end’?”

“Anything and everything, all high-dollar items, many of which are museum-worthy.”

“That can’t be as profitable as treasure hunting.”

“Yeah, well, his father was killed on a hunt two years ago when his sister was sixteen. She blames The Underground.”

We reach the next level and enter another foyer, and before he can continue forward, I grab his arm and stop walking. “He died because of a hunt?”

“Yes.”

“So what you do is dangerous.”

“We each choose the jobs we take, and accept the danger that comes along with them. Generally the higher the payday, the greater the risk.”

“And Adriel’s father, what was he after?”

“A file that proved a certain pharmaceutical company had faked the results to clinical studies to get FDA approval. Which I damn sure found and turned the payday into a trust for Giada. She gets it at twenty-five.”

“How much was it?”

“Ten million.”

I gape at the astounding figure he mentions so nonchalantly. “You gave her ten million dollars?”

“Yes.” Tightness forms around his mouth. “I gave her ten million dollars, but all that money doesn’t bring their father back, and it damn sure didn’t stop the pain.” There is a hint of rasp to his voice, and he cuts his gaze to indicate the room beneath the arch and the end of the topic. “You have to enter the living area to get to the kitchen. It’s well stocked, and Marabella, the housekeeper, picks up anything I need. She’ll do the same for you. She has a whiteboard on the counter to leave a note.” He points to the walkway forking left and right of the arch. “You’re left. I’m right.” He starts walking left.