“Not talk, no.” I moderate my tone, but still. My lip curls in disgust at the idea.
“Oh.” She disguises her disappointed reaction by taking a sip of tea, then flits her blue eyes to me.
“But I can give you a new life and identity far from here. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” I admit gruffly.
Her shoulders lower, and that line between her brows smooths. That simple promise relaxing her fills me with absolute determination to do whatever is required. She is my sweet bonnie lass, and I’ll provideeverythingshe needs.
“The only reason you will get married is because you’re desperately in love.”
She nods but saying that seems to undo all the progress we’ve just made and she’s tense again.
“Thank you, that’s kind,” she stammers out as she stands, tugging at the hem of her jumper. “I guess I should go—”
“You’re not leaving,” I interrupt.
Her gaze darts to mine, but instead of the shock I expect from my instinctive order, there’s a mess of emotions. Everything from relief to fear to apprehension and hope.
Outside, the grey sky lights up cloud to cloud, then it’s only a few seconds before the rumble arrives. The storm is drawing closer.
“It’s thundersnow, mo chridhe.” The endearment slips out without my permission. My heart. She has my heart in her delicate hands and doesn’t even realise. “It’s dangerous. Stay here until it clears.” She came to me for help, and I’ll protect her from her own bad impulses, as well as anyone else’s.
Particularly mine.
“Mo-hrey-ya,” she repeats the unknown Gaelic word softly and with an atrocious accent, then shakes herself. “I couldn’t intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be.” Or if she was, I’d want her to. She has no idea how much I adore her. But a wee bonnie lass doesn’t need a jaded, scarred, grumpy retired mafia boss, however rich I am. Moreover, Duncan would murder me from the grave for how I feel about Mia.
She’s here until the storm passes; that will have to be enough.
“Besides, it’s getting dark.” I nod to the window where the snow is almost half a foot thick. “How did you get the car?”
“Stole the Land Rover Dad used to let me use around the estate.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Your dad would have been proud.”
“Dad always said I would need to be able to drive one day. The roads weren’t as difficult as I thought they might be.”
My face drops. “What? You’d never driven on a road before?”
“Yeah.” She scrunches her nose. “The first big roundabout was a bit hairy.”
My heart attempts to throw itself out of my mouth and gets stuck just below my Adam’s apple. She drove from outside London to here, having never before driven on a public highway.
“Well, and all the multi-lane roads were… Yeah. It was okay.”
It’s a twelve-hour drive, minimum, and the last part was in the damn snow. She’s even braver and stronger than I realised.
“Did you bring anything with you?”
She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Of course I did.”
My heart slips down to where it should be, then sinks lower. It’s a good thing she’s got her own clothes. Absolutely. I wouldn’t survive seeing her dressed in my shirt, covered with my scent, how dainty and small she is emphasised by the baggy fabric over her pert breasts… I grit my teeth. I’m pleased. I am.
“Let’s get your stuff then.”
I tug on boots in the porch and when I open the front door, it’s clear the snow has been falling harder. There’s another rumble of thunder.
I look across at the Land Rover with faded green paint. It’s probably bugged to high heaven. We need to dispose of it, but she’s not going anywhere. If anyone is getting struck by lightning, it’s me.
