Family Treed by Pauline Baird Jones Page A

sibling of legal types up the whazoo. She was related to two mob families and had been insistently invited to dinner with a third mob family. If that weren’t enough of a kiss of death for the relationship, Alex, the oldest of thirteen, had a serious kid phobia going. And she attracted kids like honey attracted ants. It was a hookup made in hell.
    He’d probably break her heart. She kept telling herself to tell him no when he called. So far she’d not listened to herself. She hadn’t had a lot of cute guy in her life up to now, and he was the poster guy for cute. Dark hair. Tall, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. His eyes were an amazing blue and he had a stubborn, needs-a-shave jaw. Had tough guy down pat, but not bad boy. He wasn’t bad. He was good. He couldn’t leap tall buildings, stop bullets, or outrun locomotives. But he’d saved her life once or twice, made her heart skip with a look, and kissed her like he didn’t want to stop. How did a girl say no to that?
    He looked at her and grinned, and yup, her heart skipped. Despite the skipping, she noticed that he didn’t look worried enough for a guy about to drive into the Wolf’s den.
    â€œYou’re not wearing a wire, are you?” Did she hope he was? The idea his many law-minded siblings might be listening in was a bit comforting, but not if it got them killed. Bullets did move faster than cars. It was the kind of physics even a former librarian could do.
    He grinned. “Afoniki’d expect that.”
    Not exactly a no. “But you’re carrying?” Did not seem like a good idea to go in without one of them armed and dangerous. She might be a bit wistful that she wasn’t the one. It’s not that she wanted to shoot someone again—she mentally winced over that memory—but it felt wrong to be the unarmed lamb among the Russian wolves. His grin widened. Armed, dangerous and cute enough to kiss. She half sighed.
    â€œYou nervous?” Alex slowed his truck and gave her a concerned look.
    Lightning flashed against thick dark clouds, fitfully illuminating the brooding outlines of the mob mansion. It was such a cliché. How had they managed it? Did they have something on Mother Nature, too? She studied the appropriately sinister gates, their widening gap a bit too canine. The heavy rain made them almost foam. A cliché on steroids.
    â€œI’m scared almost out of my mind,” she said lightly, as if joking, even though it was the truth. When his look of concern deepened, she summoned up a smile, though it had some wry to it. “If the old man is half as creepy as the nephew…”
    She’d met Dimitri Afoniki about the same time the past bitch-slapped her. Hadn’t liked him before she found out he was a wise guy.
    â€œWe can leave,” Alex offered.
    â€œAnd drive straight to Wit-Sec?” Just how offended would the wise geezer be if she stood him up? Did she want to find out?
    Alex considered the question, then shrugged. “Maybe the food will be good?”
    As if they’d sensed her desire to flee while she could, the gates snapped closed behind them with an ominous clang. Okay, maybe ominous was a bit dramatic. A lot of people knew where they were going, most of them related to Alex and packing weapons. If they disappeared, there’d be a lot of heat on the Afonikis. Of course, the fact that they lived in New Orleans seemed to indicate they could handle the heat.
    Alex steered his truck along the drive that curved toward the house. It passed under a portico, then turned back toward the gate. Every light in every room of the house appeared to be on but it still managed to be unwelcoming. Some goons waited under the portico, and one of them stepped forward to open her door. The other goon opened Alex’s door and indicated his intention to park the truck for him. Or drive it off for stripping and shipping to Mexico. She should probably set her