Oh, she has no idea.
Before it escalates I place a hand on Gino’s chest and with force pushes him aside. My back is to her as my free hand is placed protectively on her hip. I feel her inch closer.
“Don’t,” I warn him, registering my voice in a lower tone.
His pupils dilate. The muscle works overtime in his jaw. While I know he wouldn’t lose control and harm her I know his next move would’ve been a very frightening one.
He shrugs me off him. Tension coils his body tight. “Don’t speak of my mother,” he threatens her.
Over my shoulder she threatens back, “Then don’t speak of my pa.”
A silent agreement transpires. Gino backs off completely, leaving the room much more rattled than when we entered.
I blow a long breath. “You’re causing trouble, little warrior.”
“Yeah,” she agrees softly. Sidestepping around me she looks up at me way too sweetly. “But you secretly like it.”
“I do not.”
“Of course you do. I can’t have you becoming bored of me, can I? Then you really will kill me.”
She’s right yet also wrong. I have already accepted Imogen is a hyper-fixation that is permanent. Letting her go. . . Letting her go will cause the real problem.
“His mother is a sore subject. Don’t mention her again.”
“Understood.” Lifting her hands up she asks, “Any chance you can release me now?”
“Is the rope bothering your skin?”
“No.”
“Is it cutting your circulation?”
“No.”
“Then no, I will not be releasing you.”
Her mouth gapes open as she scoffs at me. “I’ll be a good girl. I promise.” She bats her lashes in an exaggerating way.
“I highly doubt that.”
A roll of her eyes. “Come on, Rico. What harm can I really do here? I’m outnumbered.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence. We both know you will find a way. I’m also not stupid enough to underestimate you.” My comment seems to please her.
“So,” she takes a step forward and I’m graced with the scent of spring lilies, “you find me impressive.”
“That’s what you got out of that?”
Her smile broadens. It lights parts within me I thought would remain dark until my death. “Yes.”
Another long breath escapes me yet this one is filled with amusement. “You’re an incorrigible delusionist, Imogen Murphy.”
The tips of her shoes make contact with the tips of mine. With her head angled upwards I fight the maddening urge to wind her hair up in my fist to keep her looking at me.
“Oh, shadow, you’re just as delusional as I am.”
“Shadow?” My lips twitch.
