Page 5 of The Billionaire Who Saved My Cat From The Mafia

“Make me.”

As soon as the words come out, I want to snatch them from the air, shove them back in my mouth, and put a padlock on my lips.What have I done?This MacLaine dude’s expression has just changed.I don’t see anger.

I see intense curiosity.

I think I prefer the frowning and the dead eyes.

I hold the axe in front of me.I don’t take my eyes off his face.It wouldn’t be safe to.And I don’t want to.Because he fascinates me.

This is a highly sexual man standing in front of me, out here in the middle of nowhere.I know his type—I’ve known a lot of them.He’s the powerful and secretive kind.I don’t like that combo.I like my men approachable and honest.

At least IthinkI would if I ever met a man like that.

My rancher friend is a feral, sexy animal.

Holy shit, this man is hot.

I shake my head.

Nope.

Fuckin’ nope to the nope.

Not happening, Frankie.Don’t go there.Don’t you dare let one brain cell go anywhere near there!

And without even meaning to, I laugh out loud.It’s the stress and exhaustion, of course.It’s also because at this point, I really don’t give a shit.

I’m so completely done with men, so exhausted by them.Every single man I’ve ever known has brought me nothing but grief.They always start with potential.With a few of them, I’ve even gotten a hint of something more, a promise of the storybook happy ending.

Hints of storybook endings can keep me going for a while, even make me blind to huge red flags flapping around in the wind right in front of my face.

But in the end, every relationship I’ve ever fallen into has left me shaking my head and walking away in disgust.

Except the last one.

I didn’t walk away from Nikolai Kozlov.

I ran.

I ran for my life.And I worry that I’ll always have to run from Niko and his buddies.

However many of them are still alive.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” the cowboy says, turning to leave.“You’ll need to be gone.”

I let the head of the axe hit the ground and I lean on it like a cane.“Or what?”

MacLaine turns back to me, raises an eyebrow, and then casually mounts his expensive horse.I watch him settle into the saddle and expertly turn the horse around.But he immediately spins around to face me again.

That is one giant hunk of man muscle, midway between six and seven feet tall.Despite his size, I just watched him fly effortlessly into his saddle.He’s at home in his skin and even more at home on his horse.I note how he controls that beast like it’s nothing, like it’s an extension of himself.His hands are as light as feathers on the reins.

Dark blond curls poke out from under his cowboy hat and catch the late morning light.His eyes are the color of the millions of tiny wild violets popping up all over this landscape.

He nods ever so slightly at me.“Goodbye.Safe travels.”

CHAPTER 3

Special K