London gnawed her lip. As tempting as that sounded, it would be a bad idea. She had no idea why Xander had insisted on coming along, but she was both glad he had and worried he could make more waves.
“If you want to go, I’ll be fine.”
Xander frowned at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I’m not leaving you. I’ve handled him like this before. I know what to do.”
And she had no clue. Sad but true.
“Thanks.” She turned to Javier. “Lie down for me, please.”
“He’s going to be a bastard to deal with until he’s had a shower and a meal. I’ll get him in the shower if you’ll whip him up some soup in the kitchen.”
She nodded and turned away. Javier would probably feel more human—and be more like himself—once he’d washed away the drunk and put something better in his stomach.
London made her way back through the house, then groped her way through the darkened kitchen until she found a light switch. As she illuminated the space again, she gasped at the beauty of the modern dark wood cabinets, stainless steel everything, and lovely Carrara marble counters. Everything in the house looked like it belonged in a magazine spread.
It didn’t take her long to make Javier something. There wasn’t much to choose from. She microwaved some soup, made a grilled cheese sandwich, then poured a tall glass of water to combat his dehydration. Once she’d gathered everything, London rummaged through the cabinets until she found a tray on which to put it all.
Loading it up, she balanced her way to the bedroom at the back of the house and found Xander waiting. The shower still ran in the background.
He took the tray from her and set it on the dresser, then gathered her up in his arms. As he pressed her against that commanding, muscled body, she peered up at him. Her knees went weak. He really was gorgeous and smelled insanely good, too. A bit muskier than his brother. Intense. He kissed that way as well. No doubt he’d make love with that same relentless focus.
Xander controlled himself, holding back the dark side she could feel straining against its internal leash. Even across a room, she was painfully aware of him, but when he touched her like this, she completely melted.
She shouldn’t want Xander. He wasn’t going to stay with her. He’d probably never fall in love. But that was all right. He’d bring her pleasure and help her see possibilities. That was the most she could hope for.
“I’m sorry about earlier, at Luc’s place. I didn’t mean to embarrass or upset you,” he murmured in her ear, kissing her temple, her cheek, angling toward her mouth.
London reared back in surprise. She’d never expected an apology. Logan’s other friends had always depicted him as a playboy who jetted from one bed to another, and often bailed out his buddies from their scrapes with danger because he liked the edge. But the man in front of her didn’t seem shallow and adrenaline-seeking. He brushed his lips across hers, the kiss lingering for a heartbeat, opening up something in her chest, before he pulled away with a regretful sigh.
“I know.” London couldn’t resist filtering her fingers through his soft, inky hair. “It’s . . . complicated. I just started working for your brother today. He’d probably fire me for even telling you that. He was adamant about keeping you out of the loop about the business.”
Xander clenched his jaw. Something painful tightened his face. “He won’t fire you. He might say that, but . . . he’s just mixed up right now.”
London nodded. “Do you have any interest in the business?”
“Absolutely. I didn’t have to get an MBA, but I did, thinking that I could be useful to my brother and the board of directors.”
Xander didn’t say more, but she could guess that Javier had shut his younger brother out long before now. While she’d like to believe that wasn’t the boss she knew, the first thing she’d realized about Javier, after she stopped staring at his beauty, was that he sought total and complete control of everything in the office. In the bedroom, too? Alyssa had already mentioned that Xander was a Dom, and London had done a few Google searches to get an idea of what that meant. But Javier seemed to fit the bill, too. The thought of being at either man’s mercy made her absolutely weak-kneed.
It’s not relevant. Focus!
London gnawed on her lip and got back to the subject at hand, trying to decide how much to say. Javier didn’t want Xander involved. But Javier might need his brother. Family, along with their love and support, could save a person. She knew that firsthand. Her parents had been there for her every step of the way after her accident. She might never have pulled through if not for them and the unflagging strength they’d lent her day after day, year after year.
Since the brothers weren’t really communicating now . . . maybe she could help.
“Javier might also fire me for divulging what I’m about to tell you. But he needs you more than I need this job. I want him to get better.”
Xander cupped her face in his hands and stared down into her eyes, into her soul. “Tell me. Help me to help him. I dragged him here to Lafayette against his will, hoping to find something or someone to make him want to live again without burying himself in work and vodka. I’m out of answers, belleza.”
Seeing Xander’s concern, his heart, London nodded, then explained Nick Navarro’s visit earlier and the resulting binge. Xander listened in absolute silence, but she sensed the shock rolling through his body. He tensed, shifted, his face gathering into a scowl.
“Jesus Christ! An assassin? And Navarro didn’t even have a theory about why anyone would hire this bastard to kill Francesca?”
“If he did, I didn’t hear that part, but did you know that she was pregnant?”
Xander clenched his jaw again, his face stony with pain. “No.”
“Your brother lost a beloved wife and their child all at once. And after all that, he learned that she’d been unfaithful and—”
“Is that the story Javier told you?” Xander scowled. “Because that’s an utter load of bullshit. They had a corporate marriage. It was a condition of a merger. Francesca was beautiful, but an annoying pain in the ass. Unless Javier wanted to talk to her about Prada or Tiffany, she had no interest in him. They were married six years, but they were more like strangers.”
“I never loved her. She knew that, and she didn’t care.” Javier stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and his short hair finger-combed in inky waves against his scalp.