Page 38 of The Mafia’s Girlfriend

“Someone who wants to find me.”

He whirled me around. I smacked into his hard chest and held my breath as he glared down at me.

“Stop talking in riddles.”

I shook my head. “I’m not.”

He clenched his jaw. “Fine. Why does he want to find you?”

“Because of someone we know.”

Once more, he stiffened. He was alert to something. My heart hammered too fast for me to clue in to what was coming our way. This close to him, I was overwhelmed by his hard body, so firm against mine. His chest pushed against me as he stayed quiet, and I fought this ridiculous, ill-opportune moment of lust that flared hotter.

But over his shoulder, I spotted the spy. He darted between smaller sheds, and I sucked in a breath.

Still holding Luke’s hand, I turned and ran. He didn’t need me to explain. He got the message. Danger was coming. He took over, changing our direction a few more times.

Instead of walking through the rows of maintenance equipment, he led me into a conservatory. It seemed like one, smaller but still domed and housing plants. The bottom of the walls were open, likely to better circulate air, and the windows and doors prevented it from actually being a whole structure. Behind the thick beams supported the rounded roof, Luke blocked us from sight of anyone walking by.

“Trust me,” Luke started slowly.

I want to. So, so fucking bad, Luke. I wished I could trust him.

“I understand how someone could be interested in someone like you.”

I narrowed my eyes, wondering it that was a backhanded compliment, such that he wasn’t interested in me. He’d be the liar between us if he dared to say that.

“But in what?” He lowered his gaze to look me over.

“Just...the usual.” I shrugged, hating that I couldn’t trust him, not with this. I couldn’t fess up and tell him that this man was a spy for the cruel, creepy sadist who planned to own me soon. I couldn’t begin to extrapolate on the finer details of what an arranged marriage entailed in my world.

“The usual,” he said, deadpan.

“He thinks I’m an easy piece of ass and he wants some.” That part might not be a lie. Based on what those Marchese men said in the club, Antonio might be giving his favorite men pep talks about all of them having access to me when I was his wife.

I shivered at the terrifying thought. The chill that swept through me couldn’t be helped.

The sound of footsteps crept closer. They crunched over dead leaves and other debris. Twigs and plant parts that had been shed on the ground from the last pruning.

He had to be right outside. So close.

Luke pressed up against me, blocking me with his body should anyone walk in here. With his broad shoulders, it would almost work, but I couldn’t be so cruel to let him get hurt again on my account. He remained facing out at the windows, though, and with a slight lean to the side, he kept a lookout.

When the steps passed by, going further from this domed shelter, I breathed easier.

“You liar,” he seethed quietly.

I frowned at him, unnerved by how he could guess that I hadn’t been telling the truth. Which part did he suspect I’d made up? All of it?

“He’s not looking for a piece of ass.”

He might be, depending on what Antonio told him. What I knew for certain was that this spy could be sent here to drag me to his boss.

“He’s packing.” Luke narrowed his eyes at me. “I saw a gun hiding at his ankle.” He didn’t step back, but he leaned to rub his hand over his face. I hated that I’d aggravated him—again.

“What the fuck are you mixed up with?” he asked.

“I...” I shook my head. “I didn’t know he’d have a gun,” I lied