“What?” he asks, calm and dangerous. “Getwhatover with?”
“Whatever you’re going to do,” I reply sulkily. I can’t stop him.
“I will never hurt you, Willow.” His voice goes soft. “And I will kill anyone who does. I will break the bones of anyone who so much as touches you.”
That statement steals my breath.
There’s no reason to trust him. Except, it feels right.
“Fuck.” He tightens his grip on my wrists. “Don’t run from me again, little bunny.”
I press my lips together, even as my body tingles everywhere we touch, but I’m not making any promises.
He brings his hand to my face, and I flinch away, but I can’t get far.
“Willow.” The tips of his fingers are as gentle as a summer breeze as he touches my cheek. “Who did this to you?”
Huffing, I shake my head. He knows. It’s obvious. Violence against women is part of the Essex mafias, he should know that. When I was a kid, it was casual cuffs around the ear for being “sassy”. It escalated with my age though. Of course it did.
Doesn’t it everywhere?
I can’t go back to Maldon.
He hooks his thumb under my chin and tilts my face up until I have no choice but to look into his eyes. They’re the colour of the centre of a flame, the very palest blue.
A tremor goes through me, and I flush.
I feel safe with Zane, and the combination of safety and him holding me is having an effect I didn’t anticipate.
There’s something about this man, and I’m struggling to remember why I wanted to get away. Why I should be afraid. Because I’m melting under his white-hot gaze. My mouth opens to get more air in, but it’s not from being out of breath after running. Nope. It’s pure arousal, unlike anything I’ve felt. My hips move involuntarily, seeking friction, and his erection presses into my belly.
His eyes narrow, and I freeze.
He was turned on by our chase and our proximity as he holds me… And so am I.
“Why did you take me from the church? Why are you doing this?” I ask the question that has been spinning around my head, and that he avoided while we were in the car. My tone is breathy,revealing my conflict. I shouldn’t like being held by Zane, but it feels right in a way that I can’t understand, or deny. It’s as though all the stars have lined up.
“You don’t know?” he replies, an edge to his voice.
My heart sinks in what I’m not ready to call disappointment. Of course. Sex, money, power. One of those reasons.
Money or power doesn’t quite make sense. He has gained by taking the Witham territory for himself. Admittedly, no London Mafia Boss has managed to get into the Essex Cartel yet. There is a marriage between a London Mafia Boss and the daughter of Braintree, but that’s complicated, so maybe Bethnal thinks if he could marry in too, it might help him?
Well, he’ll be disillusioned about that. I have no influence in Maldon.
“Youdoknow,” he says softly. “I can see it in your face. We’re meant to be.”
I blink. I must have misheard him.
He strokes his fingers down my throat in a move that emphasises how I’m at his mercy, but there’s no mistaking the hungry expression on his face as his gaze dips to my mouth. “You feel it too. You’re mine, little bunny.”
Is that what this feeling is? We’re fated?
I want to scoff. But I’m an innocent, trapped mafia princess. I haven’t a clue about being with a man. I’ve never responded to anyone like I do to Zane, but I hardly have much to compare to. Maybe this fizzing in my veins is normal?
“How do you know?” I sound confused and not at all as defiant as I intended.
“I’m a forty-two-year-old mafia boss,” he states, with a wry hook up of the corner of his mouth that makes my pulse jump.
