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“Getting home sick?” he asks. “I’ll go get the engine going.” He sits up, reaching for his clothes.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I mean out of organized crime.”
He chuckles.
“I’m serious. No more threats to you or to me.”
His feet swing over the side of the bed, turning so his back is facing me as he slides his shirt on. “You don’t just walk away, Saoirse. We’re stuck in the heart of it. Why do you think I wanted you in Seattle?”
“Because you’re a stubborn mule who can’t see what’s good right in front of him,” I say sternly. I jump up, gathering my clothes and hop into my jeans. “We’re getting out. The hotel is a part of that.”
“You do realize that the hotel is a way for Callum to launder dirty money?” he asks, his tone a bit condescending.
I roll my eyes. “I did know that.” I stop, shaking my head. “I mean not outright, but I assumed. Still. It’s in my name. Do you know why?”
I take his lack of response as the indication he wants me to continue. “Because Callum doesn’t want it associated with the Southies. It’s mine, because if anything were to happen to him, I have means to keep our family above water. The marriage to Corbin was to help solidify that.”
Scotty growls deep from within his chest, and I stifle a smile.Jealous bastard.
“Stop. That’s not happening now,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Fucking right, it’s not. I won’t let it.”
I ignore him, not wanting to give into his caveman reaction of owning me. “I have an idea. Just …” I pause. “Bear with me.”
“What does it look like, princess?” Scotty asks, turning to face me. “Your perfect little dream? A family that won’t be threatened? Your children will be linked to the Mob. You will be linked to the Mob. We don’t get out. The enemies of Callum Murphy are your enemies. This little kidnapping stunt proved that.” His hands clench into fists at his side, then he separates them, flexing as he tries to control his anger.
When his gaze meets mine, I suck in a breath. His brown eyes are intense, possessive. Claiming me.
“Stop staring at me like that,” I say through a shaky breath.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to devour me whole and spit me out.” I scratch at my neck. “It’s making me uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable?” He stalks toward me, eyes narrowing. “Or horny?”
“Uncomfortable,” I snap.
He smirks, knowing that I’m lying.
And as if my body is listening to him, my core tightens with anticipation. He reaches me, my heart pounding in my chest. But, he doesn’t touch me. Instead, he reaches around me and pulls at a drawer. He grabs something, then hands it to me.
I take the black velvet box, and pop it open. It’s an exact match of the necklace that was destroyed. “Put it on for me,” I say, handing him the box. I turn around so my back is facing him.
He takes it out of the box and drapes it over the front of my throat. I brush my hair away, holding it as he fastens the clasps. His hands rest on both of my shoulders, and he squeezes, then presses a kiss to my ear.
I turn around, placing one hand against theSdangling from my neck. Then, I give him a smile. “Thank you. I was missing it.”
He nods, his line of sight where my hand is, fiddling with the pendant. “Princess?” My nickname leaves his mouth in a soft whisper.
“Yes?”
“TheSwas never for Saoirse.”
It was for Scotty.
Chapter Thirty-One
