Her face scrunches up, and it’s a wee bit adorable. “Do you have anything other than kale and chicken breasts? Oh, god. That was so rude, wasn’t it?”
Her awkward apology surprises me into a laugh. I seem to be doing a lot of that these days. Opening the freezer, I pull out an enormous shepherd’s pie. “My mum sends over care packages of high-fat foods monthly in hopes that I will succumb to theinevitable artery-clogging fate of my forefathers. Fortunately for you, she delivered this yesterday.”
Once the food is plated, Luna carries it into the living room, settling everything on the coffee table. I never eat in here, only in the kitchen and occasionally the dining room, but she looks so happy, settling herself on a pillow near the floor-to-ceiling windows, that I’ll let it go.
Just this once.
“I love this view,” she says, “but the glass is weird. It’s so thick.”
“That’s because it’s bulletproofed,” I say, eyeing my slice of shepherd’s pie. The rich brown gravy oozes out between the savory lamb mince and fluffy mash, which has the approximate nutritional value and fat content as a tub of lard. I’m going to need an hour in the gym and a sixteen-kilometer run tomorrow morning to work this off.
And unfortunately, itisdelicious. Luna seems to agree as she demolishes half her slice in three bites. She eats like she’s afraid her plate’s going to be taken away from her. But my little revelation about the glass seems to make her lose her appetite as she puts down her fork.
“It’s a hell of a life you lead, Kai MacTavish.”
“It’s a dangerous life, but a grand one,” I say. “The benefits always outweigh the risks.”
She tilts her head, looking a bit like a goldendoodle. “That sounds like something an accountant would say.”
“We’re trained from birth to analyze any situation for its risk-to-benefit ratio. Are there enough exits if we need one in a hurry? Is working with a ketamine-addicted sociopath worth it if he candeliver the weaponry we need in time? Ya balance the two and make your best choice.”
“I really messed up your risk-to-benefit ratio on the island, didn’t I?”
“Ya dinna do that; those arrogant pricks did, thinking they could throw human trafficking on top of their shite-heap of drugs, weapons, and those fight and fuck fests,” I say. Putting down my plate, I lean closer. “It’s time we talk about what happens next.”
Eyes wide, she whispers, “What happens next?”
“Ya marry me.”
Chapter Seventeen
In which you have got to be kidding me.
Luna…
It’s like the world just tilted sideways.
I didn’t hear that. It was a bunch of words that he meant in some other way.
“Your look of horror is very flattering, lass,” Kai says dryly.
During my girl’s night with his cousins, I’d heard a few references to marriage, including one where Sloan said, “Well, it’s not like I had a choice,” and everyone laughed.
“Is this a thing with you people?” I wheeze. “Why would you even suggest such a genuinely appalling idea?”
Kai settles back against the sofa, crossing his ankles. “Uncle Cormac and I spent a lot of time on this today. I have to keep ya safe. There are rules in this world regarding going after a member of a crime family. Women and children are off-limits. Being under my protection is good, but being married to me, that’s as bulletproof as that glass.” He nods toward the windows.
“Wh… This is insane.” I get up from the couch. “Nope, nope. So many nopes.” This is still the man who ordered me to call him Sir,stillthe one who thinks he knows what’s best for my life without any actual input fromme.
Even if he wasn’t an overbearing, autocratic, spinach-eating cad, I couldn’t do this. If I got a taste of this world, of having a family, not needing to worry about every penny spent, andthenI’d have to leave when they finished off Armstrong and his nerve gas?
It would break me.
“I could work in your family’s company somewhere,” I babble, “you know, probably not in the crime part but some other part where I file papers or something? Data entry? I’d be safe, and I could earn my keep until this is done.”
Drawing up his knee and resting his arm on it, Kai watches my little meltdown. His emerald eyes narrow. “This is not a standard engagement. We’re not madly in love, ready to live happily ever after, and lookin’ to raise a brood of bairns.” He pauses. “Though they would be gorgeous, with your genes and mine.”
“Oh, my god!” I scoot away until I’m nearly embedded in the fabric of the couch. “I don’t know when you’re joking.”
