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She opened her mouth to voice her concerns but slammed it shut again. “I love you.”
“I love you too, little birdie.”
For several minutes he held her like that until he eased off and let her stand.
She moved to Lucian’s side, relieved to see a faint coloring come back into his face. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Strong arms pulled her in tight, and she forced herself to ignore the blood and the soiled shirt.
“I am now.”
Matteo helped Lucian clean up. A few minutes later they were all back at the dining table. Roman pulled down glasses and a bottle from the bar at the back of the kitchen.
“Well now that the party has started, let’s all have a drink and get down to business.”
Amazed how quickly the night shifted from holy shit to all normal—well, normal for mobsters—she couldn’t help but flash Lucian a dazzling smile. Then again, maybe all this was normal for them.
Sevastyan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his body until there wasn’t a breath between them—her curves molded into his harder body. Wetness for the anticipation of the unspoken promise in his gaze left her a little breathless. He hooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look him in the eye when she’d rather close them and enjoy how her blood turned to fire while in his arms.
“We’ll talk about the fear in your eyes later and the promise you just made to us. For now, drink.” He served her a double shot of vodka.
“And the auction,” she threw in.
“Still not going.”
His voice was a smoky dark invitation to push him to the edge to find out what would happen. She was tempted. Very tempted.
Lucian held up a glass. “Well, I think we all just got engaged, gents.” He gritted his teeth trying not to laugh.
She shook her head, her heart a wobbly mess in her chest. “I guess so.”
