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“Isn’t it obvious,” I say, stalking to the driver side.
“Not to me it isn’t,” he says, grasping my shoulder to press me against the side of the car, his other arm on top of the hood boxing me in.
I let my curls fall in front of my face. I do not want to have this conversation.
He pushes one finger under my chin, and I raise my eyes into his line of sight.
“My breasts may be a little fuller, and my ass twice the size it was.” He smirks when his hungry gaze zeroes in on my ass, and he wets his lips. “But I—”
“But what? I told you, you were the only one I ever had. There hasn’t been anyone else, Paxton.”
“Why?” I ask, not even knowing the answer why he’s been my only one as well.
“What do you mean why? You’re mine and I’m yours,” he shrugs, like it is set in stone.
“You keep repeating that, but give me one good reason, except how good we are in bed.”
He smiles, “So you admit we’re good together?”
“You made me come by letting me rub myself on your thigh,” I say exasperated. “We got the sex part down, but this,” motioning between us, “has only one chance of succeeding.”
“How?”
“For us to become friends, for Iggy’s sake.”
“Friends? I don’t have friends,” he says matter of fact.
“What about the guy you called?”
A line appears between his brows. “You mean Vasily—he works for me, he’s a member of my team.”
“I don’t believe you,” I say, shaking my head. I can’t let this man into my heart. I’ve got Iggy to take care of and he doesn’t need a guy in his life who is going to leave when he decides he’s bored because he doesn’t have to kidnap or chase me anymore. We aren’t going to work; I know it in my bones. I can’t fall for a psychopath like him.
“I guess people would call him my friend.”
“So,” I hedge.
“So what?”
“We need to try for Iggy. I don’t know anything about you. What do you do for a living other than kill people? Are you planning to live in New Orleans? Iggy isn’t moving or changing schools. I’ve got a job, I’ve got a family, friends. You’re not going to screw that up again,” I say, stumbling over my words.
He pushes off against the car, and starts to pace, the keys digging into his fist.
“What do you want from me, woman? I’ve got enough money to last me ten lifetimes. I even bought an old plantation I had renovated for us. For the two of us before I knew we had a kid. And I have a job. We are mercenaries, and yes, I fucking kill people and enjoy every second of it.” Spreading his arms wide, like I’m the one who is acting crazy.
“A house? Are you insane?” I yell.
“You’re not serious about wanting to live in the barn on your parents land?”
“I am.”
“My house is near the water and has enough room for everyone. It’s off the beaten track with security. No one can touch us there,” he roars, getting agitated, a muscle in his jaw jumping.
“That’s not the point. You can’t step into protector and savior mode when you feel like it, Sal. I don’t fucking need you. I didn’t need you the last thirteen years. So I’m sure as shit not gonna need you now,” I bite out, surprised by the venom in my voice, and I’m lying through my teeth.
He slams his fist on the top of the truck, and people stop and look our way.
“I can, and I will,” he growls. “Get in the fucking truck,” he says, letting out a barrage of Italian swearwords.
