I was so screwed.
Luke and Mrs. Stark fought over who was going to pay (Luke won). We got back in the Range Rover, went back to Luke’s loft and Mrs. Stark came up to the loft with us.
His loft, I might add, magically now had a black lacquered desk in the corner with my computer and two of my wicker baskets filled with work files sitting beside it.
I made a (somewhat desperate) demand that she stay for a cup of coffee (Luke shook his head at this, totally knowing my game). She agreed happily. I made a full pot and she and I drank and chatted while we both cleaned Luke’s kitchen. Through this, Luke made a number of phone calls while I tried to ignore him. Then we sat on barstools and kept chatting.
Then she cried. “Oh, look at the time!” and I felt my stomach pitch because it was then I knew I was seriously screwed.
“We’re auctioning a homemade quilt at the church. I’m supposed to sell iced tea and cookies. I’m going to be late.” She was flying around in a dither, grabbing at her purse and rinsing her cup to put in the dishwasher.
She came to me and touched my cheek. “Ava, so lovely to see you,” she said softy.
Then Luke walked her to the elevator doors, they slid open, his arms moved around her and he bent to kiss her cheek as I watched feeling, I had to admit, something warm spreading inside me as I did so.
Luke had never been close to his Dad but he’d always been close to his Mom.
How Mr. and Mrs. Stark ever got together was beyond me. He was a macho man, like his son. She was Mrs. Cleaver. Why he and Luke didn’t get on, I never asked and I didn’t know. Maybe too much alike or maybe Mr. Stark knew his son would be more than him and he didn’t like it. Mrs. Stark must have felt like she was living in the depths of hell and it was a testimony to her quiet strength that she’d not only made it to the other side, she was auctioning quilts.
I was so caught up in these thoughts, just like the screaming dork I was, that I didn’t realize I should have either thrown myself out the window or locked myself in the bathroom.
Again, I was too late.
The elevator doors closed and Luke and I were alone. He turned to me.
Eek.
I made a dash toward the bathroom. He caught me around the waist, swung me up in his arms and walked toward the bed.
“Luke, put me down,” I yelled, legs kicking and arms pushing.
He did. He threw me on the bed. I rolled and scrambled. He caught my ankle, yanked me back and then pinned me with his body.
“Get off me,” I shouted.
“This latest bullshit maneuver bought you punishment.”
Oh crap.
Considering “payment” meant me handcuffed naked to the bed while he had his wicked way with me, I wanted no part in “punishment”. Hell, I wanted no part in “payment” (although I found the idea intriguing).
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “Get off.”
He stared at me, his eyes weren’t shiny dangerous, they were something else far more scary.
“I knew I was gonna enjoy this but it just keeps gettin’ better and better.”
“Get off,” I repeated.
He shook his head but said, “I gotta go out. Talk to Vance and Ike about what’s happening with Vincetti and Dexter. Then Lee and I scheduled a meet with Vito. When I get home, we’ll see to your payment and your punishment.”
I blinked at him, not processing his last words as I was stuck on an earlier one. “Vito?”
“Vito Zano, Vincetti’s uncle and his boss. The guy who had you kidnapped.”
Vito Zano?
Uncle Vito Zano?
Uncle Vito had me kidnapped?
“Uncle Vito?” I asked.
Luke stared at me.
“Oh my God,” I put my hands to my face then took them away and smiled at Luke. “This is great.”
Luke kept staring but he was now doing it in a way like he thought maybe I’d slid over the deep end.
“Uncle Vito loves me,” I told Luke. “He’s hilarious. We’re always partners during euchre games after Thanksgiving dinner. We kick ass. I didn’t know it was Uncle Vito who kidnapped me. No wonder his henchman said he knew me.”
“Ava.”
“This is good news, Luke,” I swiped my hand on my forehead. “Shoo.”
“Ava, Vito Zano is not a good guy,” Luke told me.
“Maybe not, but he’d never hurt me. He loves me and he really loves Sissy. He was always saying to me he had wished Sissy had married his other nephew, Ren. Ren is a good guy and he’s even more hot than Dom.”
Luke’s face grew dark. “Ren Zano isn’t a good guy either. And Vito would torture his grandmother if he felt it served a purpose.”
“Oh, Luke, seriously.”
“Seriously.”
“I’ve played euchre with the man. Have you played euchre with the man?”
“No, I’ve been in a vacant warehouse staring at two men with bullet holes in their foreheads. Hits ordered by Vito.”