Page 50 of Possessive Mafia Bodyguard

But when I open my eyes again, Finn is kneeling beside the bed, smoothing my hair away from my face with his hand.

“Sorry,” he whispers, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

My eyes dart around his bedroom. For the first time in my life, I didn’t orient myself before I shut down, and panic courses through my veins.

“I should go.” I sit up and shove the comforter aside.

Finn’s hand finds mine and holds it gently. “You’re not going anywhere, mo féileacán. You’re staying here with me tonight, so that I know you’re safe.”

It isn’t an order. He isn’t threatening me if I try to leave. It feels like Leonid taking me and Ivana under his wing all over again.

“Your brother…”

“Let me worry about Connor.” He gives me a small smile. “There’s a tub full of bubbles waiting for you in the bathroom.”

I blink, weariness making my limbs feel heavy with the adrenaline crash. I nod once. “Okay.”

Finn carries me from the bed to the bathroom. He sets me down on my feet and removes my boots first and then my clothes, slowly, making a pile on the tiled floor behind me, making sure my weapons are visible and within reach. He crouches in front of me to tug my panties down over my hips, leaving me standing naked in front of him. But he doesn’t touch me.

He scoops me into his arms again and lowers me gently into the foamy water.

“Hot enough for you?” he asks as my shoulders sink beneath the bubbles.

“Yes.” The water feels silky on my exhausted body. The aroma of mangoes is like inhaling an energy drink or a shot of caffeine, and I can already feel the buzz in my veins. “Thank you.”

He shrugs and straightens. “You don’t have to thank me for anything, Tamara. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

My gaze follows him to the door. “Finn?”

His smile when he turns around to face me, thaws my frozen heart just a little, and I don’t need to ask why. “Because I love you.”

Then he leaves me alone in the bathroom with the door ajar.

14

FINN

I listen to classical music through the sound system in the kitchen while I prepare food to quieten my thudding heart.

Connor may have already told Aiden what happened, but that isn’t what’s making my palms sweaty, and the blood gush around my veins. It’s knowing that Tamara is soaking in my tub and I’m in the kitchen making my favorite supper to share with her like we’re a couple and this is our regular routine.

I could get used to this.

But at the same time, I know I’m walking a fine line between wanting to wrap her in cotton wool and keep her safe in my arms, and pushing her away because ‘normal’ is the last thing she wants or needs.

“Just be your fucking self, Finn, you asshole,” I mutter to myself.

She either wants me or she doesn’t. No games. No secrets. No trying to win her over by pretending to be someone I’m not.

My pulse races when I crack an egg into a bowl and glance up to find her watching me wearing my royal-blue bathrobe. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair is stringy-wet, her legs are bare, and she has never looked more beautiful.

“Hungry?” I ask, surprised when my voice doesn’t falter.

She shrugs and doesn’t move.

The bruises on her face have almost faded leaving behind patches of dirty green, but her cheeks are gaunt, and there are dark shadows under her eyes.

“Sit down, sweetheart, and watch the Irish master at work.”