Dominik (Arizona Vengeance 6)

“Fair enough.”

After we exchange a few more thoughts on the waiver process, I assure her that Christian will call her soon. Between them, I’ll trust the waivers will go through and this will get done.

Rafe will be able to go home to his dad.

When I hang up, I settle in my chair, a slight attack of conscience hitting me. I’m not acting like a good businessman. I built my wealth from the ground up by founding an internet radio company, then diversifying outward. Currently, my billions continue to grow from wise investments, real estate, and my two professional sports teams.

None of my peers—the mega-wealthy who are self-made—would approve of what I’m doing. They’d tell me to keep feelings out of it. To make decisions based purely on the probability of success. I’d bet most of the owners in this league wouldn’t even consider it.

Not with the playoffs getting ready to start.

They’d make him play while wringing every bit out of him.

But that’s not me. The value of family is incredibly important. I say that as someone who lost his early on in life, then was essentially raised in the foster system, bouncing from place to place without ever forming real attachments. I’d give up every bit of my considerable wealth to have a family.

Just the way Rafe is ready to give up everything to spend what time his dad has left with him.

I understand him more than anyone will ever know.

This waiver deal will work. I’m sure of it.

But I do have a backup plan.

If we can’t pull it off, I’m still putting Rafe on a plane to Raleigh. He can stay a member of the Vengeance, collect his salary, and care for his father.

It’s the right thing to do.CHAPTER 5Willow“He’s here,” I yell up the staircase, loud enough that Dax and Regan should hear me.

I don’t wait around for a response, though. Like a high school girl who doesn’t want her dad to meet her new boyfriend, I grab my purse and jet out the door. Dax shouts something back, but I ignore it. He’s made how he feels about me seeing Dominik Carlson clear, and I don’t feel like hearing it again.

He’s being an overprotective brother to the extreme and I can’t figure it out. Yes, he’s always looked out for me and our sister, Meredith, but this is very, very different. Dax has moved beyond a protective interest in my love life to more of a hypervigilant worrier, and I’m not sure why.

Regardless, I slam the door of my brother’s house and dash down the porch steps. Dominik rounds the front of his car—a Porsche—and surveys me in surprise. I can see he had expected to ring the doorbell like dates usually start.

He gets over his shock, though. Instead, he focuses on me. His gaze travels down my body, taking in the one-shoulder dress in a creamy beige color. It’s versatile—can easily fit in at a pizza joint or somewhere fairly expensive and high class.

Of course, it will also work well if we just want to hit a hotel and go at it. It’ll look just as good on the floor.

“You’re a vision tonight,” Dominik praises, veering toward the passenger door to open it for me. I meet him there, tip my head back, and take him in.

Mostly his face.

It’s a great one—chiseled angles, expressive eyes, and a hard jawline that clenches right before he—

I shake my head, lower my eyes, and mumble, “Thank you” as I slide into the supple leather seat.

Only after the door is closed do I let myself scan him as he rounds the front of the Porsche, which smells brand spanking new. The sleek vehicle fits him. His outfit, too. In dark charcoal dress pants and a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled three-quarters of the way up, he looks good.

Especially with his strong, powerful arms revealed.

Hell, there’s not a part of his body that isn’t gorgeous.

When he opens his door and drops into the bucket seat beside me, he asks, “Why the hasty escape from the house?”

I’m not telling him anything he doesn’t already know. “Dax isn’t your biggest fan.”

Smirking, Dominik closes his door, then cranks the engine. It roars before purring. “He’ll warm up to me.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “I’m not even sure I’ll warm up to you.”

“You’re in my car right now,” he murmurs huskily, sending a shiver up my spine. “I’d say you’ve warmed up plenty.”

“Nice car, by the way,” I say, running my hand along my leather seat.

“Thanks,” he replies easily, shifting it into reverse to back out of the driveway. “Had it delivered and waiting for me at the airport.”

“Didn’t realize rental agencies had such fancy cars.”

“No idea if they do,” he replies with a charming grin. “I bought this one over the phone today.”