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“If you insist.” Her breath forms little white clouds, and I can’t stop staring at her. Is she in love with me yet? How can I hurry this along? “The others are joining us for this. My, ah—my favored goons.”
It’s worth making the effort to joke when she rewards me with that laugh. Her fingers squeeze mine, and I practically float over the snow to the edge of the river. The warehouse is squat and ugly, hunkered on the opposite bank.
“See that building?” I point at the boarded over windows, the spray painted walls, the shadowed doorways like missing teeth. We already sent a crew to check it’s empty. “Do you like it? Do you think it’s pretty?”
“Um.” Erin looks at me like I’ve gone insane. “It’s—ugh. No, it’s horrible. Why, is this some kind of passion project? Are you trying to flip it?”
Ha. “Wait for it.” I draw her in front of me and squeeze her shoulders. My chin grazes against her gray woolen hat, and I count under my breath from ten.
The explosion shakes the earth. Waves rush across the river surface, splashing against the bank, and smoke rises in a blackened pillar toward the sky. Everything is red hot, the heat washing over our cheeks, and the air sizzles.
“Holy—”
“Yeeeees!” Allegra and Leah woop together, running toward us along the bank. Raul, Nico and Diego follow behind, Diego’s new girl tucked under his arm. Were they all hiding together, trying to glimpse Erin and I? I’ll punish them for that.
“Oh my god.” Erin’s staring at the burning warehouse, her body rigid, but when I lean around to check her expression, her eyes are bright. “Oh mygod. You just blow stuff up? Whole buildings? You can do that when you’re a kingpin?”
“And when you’re a kingpin’s girl.”
She flushes bright red at that, and I could kick myself. Too much, too soon.
“Who wants mulled wine?” Leah reaches us first, eyeing my captive with blatant curiosity. She draws a giant thermos and a stack of paper cups from the depths of her coat, and her dark hair dances on the wind.
“Baby,” Nico calls, his voice echoing over the disturbed water. “You’ve been hiding those this whole time? What the hell?”
His wife ignores him, still peering at Erin. She pours the first cup, then holds it out like a ceremonial offering. She’s wearing mittens with penguins on them.
“You don’t have to,” I mutter, rubbing my girl’s shoulders through her coat. “She’s a bookshop owner, not the chieftain of a distant land.”
But: “Thanks,” Erin whispers, taking the cup of warm wine, and my shy milkmaid is back. I rub my cheek on her head, ignoring the shocked gazes all around.
What? I have feelings. I’m perfectly capable of getting attached.
For instance: Raul has informed me that these burning sensations in my chest are most likelyemotions.
“Next time, we roast marshmallows,” Diego declares as the others reach us, and his girl Holly elbows him in the gut.
“Don’t you dare. I like you with eyebrows.”
They burst into a loud debate, everyone weighing in, but I tune it all out, focusing on my grip on Erin’s shoulders.
It’s… uncomfortable, at first. Being here with them. Their stares make my neck itch, and I keep wanting to drag Erin away and keep her all to myself. Flatten her against the nearest brick wall and rut. Every time one of the men glance at her I choke back a snarl, even though Iknowthey’re all head over heels for their own partners, and I’m jealous of every minute we spend here, Erin’s focus on someone else.
She’s mine.
Shewillbe mine.
Does she want me yet? Permanently? What else could I blow up to convince her I’m not dull?
Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I’ll pay whatever cost.
I cannot let this woman go.
Eight
Erin
Christmas Day dawns bright and snowy, and with the puff of warm breath against my stomach. Santo De Rossi, feared mob boss and notorious villain, scrapes his teeth against my hip bone, crawling slowly down my body.
