Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Though this scenario should appeal to me, I found myself sick with the prospect. I didn’t want anyone else. I wanted him to want me. Even if I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what it meant.
“This conversation is silly, because you won’t die.”
His gaze rode up to meet mine, and instead of his usual shark-like, dead stare, there was a boyish expression, almost…hopeful.
“Why? Would that sadden you?”
“Why wouldn’t it sadden me? You are a person. A life lost is always a tragedy.”
Whatever flicker of hope shone in his eyes died a quick and violent death.
“That’s a very nice thought to have about a man who contemplated raping you on your wedding night.”
He pulled back from me. Mockery dripped from his expression. I didn’t believe him. But it still stung. I turned around sharply, fluffed my pillows, and slammed my head against them.
I felt his bare, muscular chest rumble against my back as he scooped me from behind, his body engulfing mine to keep me anchored and stop me from tossing about.
He waited for my muscles to unclench, for my body to relax against his and accept his touch. His breath skittered over the back of my neck. A heady mix of mint and whiskey. It was the latter that made me wonder if surrendering to affection, to the basic need to be held by another human, was not only difficult to stomach for me.
It took twenty minutes before I was able to regulate my breath and stop feeling like I wanted to jump out of my skin. By then, I thought he was asleep again.
“Lila.” His lips shaped my name over my ear, slowly, sensually. “Lee-lah.” My stomach bottomed out, heat spreading inside it, traveling to my groin. “I’m an excellent marksman and a terrible enemy. Go to sleep, sweetheart. Nothing can hurt you now that I’ve laid claim on you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
TIERNAN
What I needed to do right now was read the file Sam Brennan sent me on Lyosha’s adventures in Moscow, then try to gauge his next move.
What I did in practice, however, was streamline the entire night of Luca’s wedding to figure out which guest had followed her—Angelo or Tate.
Tate’s motive was flimsy at best. He was happily married, his wife had just given birth to their son, and, judging by the fact he had almost set the entire city on fire when I kidnapped her, it seemed unlikely he’d jeopardize his relationship for a quick shag. Then again, Angelo was a member of the Chicago Outfit. Touching the Camorra princess was a war declaration. One the New York–based Mafia would win by a landslide.
I was hitting one dead end after the other. The crime scene was contaminated now, and my suspects were high-profile enough to refrain from conducting themselves sloppily. Their phones and computer records all came back spotless.
“It’s not Angelo who did this,” Achilles said.
“He’s my best bet.” I cracked my knuckles.
“Let me spell it out for you, in case I wasn’t clear enough.” Achilles stacked his feet on my desk at Fermanagh’s, sitting back leisurely. “I’ll be fucked and damned if I let you drag an Outfit and family member into my dungeon and watch you shred off his skin with a kebab slicer to interrogate him based off your hunch.”
“It’s not a hunch,” Fintan said heatedly. “He disappeared right after she did for an entire hour before he came back. He’s also the single, childless one between the suspects, so fewer strings attached.”
“So did the fourteen other men,” Achilles pointed out.
“Thirteen, seeing as we crossed off oxygen tank fella.” Tierney was keeping score.
“Shut up, piccola fiamma. The grownups are speaking now.”
“Piccola fiamma?” I arched an eyebrow.
“Little flame.” Tierney rolled her eyes coquettishly. “He has a slight obsession problem. I tried to gift him an autograph and a pair of used underwear, but he’s relentless.”
I scowled at Achilles. I didn’t appreciate him shutting my sister up. I appreciated even less that he seemed to haunt her no matter where she went.
“Oh, and no one’s asking for your permission to talk.” Tierney skewered him with a glare. “Mr. They-Haven’t-Built-a-Condom-Big-Enough.”
“I’ve good news, sweetheart. The condom’s been built. Wanna give it a try?”
“I could do without watching my sister and brother-in-law engaging in verbal foreplay while we work.” I returned my attention to the suspect list in front of me. “Let’s stick to the subject.”
“Luca’s in Chicago, so I’m speaking here on his behalf,” Achilles said. “And I’m telling you he won’t be game to interrogate his wife’s brother unless you come to him with a concrete piece of evidence.”
“Okay, can I play devil’s advocate here?” Tierney paced along the small office.
“Doing the devil’s PR is actually the perfect job for you, if you weren’t too lazy to hold one,” Achilles mused. Tierney shot him a deadly glare but continued.