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“Yeah, like wiseguys and such.”
He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Clementine, I’m not the type of mafia you think I am.”
“But you are...mafia?” There’s no pounding heart in my chest anymore—it stops.
“It’s complicated. Let me explain.”
I bound from the couch. “I can’t believe this.” I can’t breathe. “My son is here. You said we were safe.” I seriously can’t breathe. Call a doctor.
Gabriel stands from the couch in one fluid motion, like a man with grace, or like a mob boss would do. “Clementine, if you’d let me explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” I’m going to be sick, my stomach clenches tightly. “Have you killed people?”
“No,” he says so loudly I swear it rumbles the house a bit. “I’ve never killed anyone. Clementine.” He lightly touches my arm. “Let me explain.”
I’m afraid of what he might say. What have I gotten myself into? What has Joseph Prince gotten me into? “You’ve never killed anyone?” I reiterate, needing to hear it again to calm my overactive nerves.
“No, Clementine. I’ve never killed anyone. When you think mafia, you thinkGodfatherandScarface. I’m not even Italian. I’m not a made man, or anything like that.”
“Ronin said we needed to be careful with Bishop Blackstone,” I accidentally blurt out. Gah, Gabriel has me so turned around, not knowing which way is up or down, and I mess up again.
Like a late afternoon dark sky, I see the storm brewing in Gabriel’s eyes. It’s like I mentioned the devil’s name. And maybe to him I have.
“When did you see Ronin?” Gabriel asks. His words are cool and controlled, but the chaos behind his eyes is anything but.
“He called me,” I answer. I’m sure Gabriel will have all my incoming phone calls tracked and traced by tomorrow, but hopefully that buys me a little time to decide what I should do. “I met him at the park. He said I was in danger.”
Gabriel stares at me, like he doesn’t know if he should believe me or not. “I’m not mafia like you think I am.
“What does that mean?”
“I do business with a lot of not so on the up-and-up people, but that’s all it is.”
“That doesn’t make sense to me, Gabriel. Speak English, please.”
“Some of my business practices aren’t technically legal. And maybe sometimes I may pressure people into business deals that work out in my favor.”
I chew on my bottom lip, trying to wrap my brain around what he’s saying to me. “Are we in danger if this wedding takes place?”
“No.” Gabriel steps closer. “I’d never let anyone hurt you.”
I cross my arms. “Why should I believe you?”
He steps even closer, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Because I protect what’s mine.”
And then, his lips crash down on mine with such force, such demand, that I open my mouth for him. Not once thinking about resisting him.
He walks me back to the couch on the other side of the room, tangling his tongue with mine.
We fall onto the couch. His hands roam all over me, and I pull him closer, moaning against his lips.
My emotions are on a rollercoaster. Up, down, up, down again, mimicking what I want him to do with his body inside mine. I can’t control what Gabriel Prince does to me. What he does to my heartbeat. It’s amped up, galloping roughly like a thousand tiny horses inside my chest.
I’m so turned on as he runs his hand down the side of my body to grip my ass, rocking his groin against me.
I can feel the ridge of him through his pants. So big. So hard. And I want it.
Call me crazy. But I do.
