Free Getting What You Want by Kathy Love Page A

her with a strident and demanding yowl. She tried pulling the covers over her head, but the insistent cat wouldn’t cut her a break. He leapt onto her, landing smack dab in the center of her back.
    “Get down, you pest,” she groaned, her tone more tired than chagrined. Her cat seemed to have the market on that emotion. He yowled again. She wiggled and he jumped down, hitting the floor with a solid thud.
    “Like you need any more food,” she muttered.
    He meowed once more, then gave up his vocal complaining and sat on the carpet, directly in front of her, regarding her with those unblinking golden eyes. Displeasure clear on his furry face.
    Great, now the stare tactic. Groaning, she rolled over and sat up. God, her brain felt as if it was wrapped in a thick layer of cotton batting.
    She pushed her hair back, and tried to decide what time it was. Sunlight flooded in through the windows and dappled the hardwood floors. Then all thoughts of time disappeared as memories of the night before penetrated her wooly, disoriented brain.
    Vittorio. He’d been here. How could she have forgotten that for even a minute? He’d come down when he heard her reaction to her nightmare. She must have been loud. Her cheeks burned, embarrassed that she’d let a nightmare get her that upset.
    Then again, that was no ordinary nightmare. Even with the warm, lemony light of the sun dancing around her, a chill stole over her skin. She’d never had a dream like that before. Shadows and horrible, disfigured beings coming after her. Pulling at her. Wanting to do things to her that she knew would be beyond awful. All of it had been so real, so vivid. Even remembering frightened her.
    But then Vittorio had been there. He’d checked her apartment. He’d stayed with her until she dozed off again.
    She touched the soft velvet of her duvet. He’d covered her before he left. Somehow that knowledge chased away a little of the chill prickling her skin.
    She pushed away the cover and swung her feet to the floor. The worn wood was warm under her bare feet, helping chase away a bit more of the chill in her bones.
    She looked around, wondering how long he’d stayed. Boris got up and began to twine himself around her ankles, the gesture nagging, certainly not affectionate.
    “All right, all right.” She started to reach down to pick up the plate of remaining marshmallow treats. Then something caught her attention. A half-eaten treat sat on the coffee table. She hadn’t left it there.
    When she’d returned from Vittorio’s apartment with the rejected peace offering, she’d promptly sat down and eaten at least five of them. Drowning her frustration, hurt and disappointment in a moment of binge eating. And she hadn’t left any half-eaten ones behind. Which meant Vittorio ate part of one, despite his dislike of sweets.
    For some reason, the knowledge warmed her further. Which was ludicrous. A few bites of marshmallow and breakfast cereal didn’t mean a thing. Like Boris’s current behavior, the gesture didn’t mean affection, for heaven’s sake.
    Or even mild like, really. But he had come down here last night. And he’d been kind. Maybe she had touched him in some way. Or maybe she’d just been such a wreck, he decided to accept the offering.
    She pushed up from the sofa, being careful not to trip on her insistent cat. She shuffled to the kitchen and reached into the cupboard for a can of tuna. Not only was her cat annoying, he was a very finicky eater. No ordinary cat food for this bossy feline.
    Boris meowed plaintively.
    “Yeah, yeah, I’m hurrying.” She rummaged in a drawer for a can opener. Working the lid off, she tossed the top into the sink, then placed the can on the floor. Another quirk of her cat’s. He wouldn’t eat from a cat dish. The greedy cat started gobbling before she even moved her hand away.
    She tossed the can opener back into the drawer. Then Erika paced over to the door. She opened the door, moving into the sunlight of