My jaw ticks, heat crawling into my throat. “Do you always sleep like that?”
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” she says, hands on her hips, all curves and smooth skin. “You’re my boyfriend.”
My mouth goes dry. I’ve seen a lot of beautiful women. But Fallon is something else. A bombshell wrapped in madness. She’s curvy and soft and fucking perfect.
And she thinks I’m hers. Christ, give me strength, part of me wants to be.
I tuck her into bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. Her smile is lazy now, lids already heavy from the sedative.
With a face full of longing, her wet lips part like she wants to kiss me. And there I am leaning in.
But she squeaks, “Basil’s been wondering when you were going to kiss me.”
“Basil? The plant you gave me?”
“His brother.” She stretches, a nipple escaping from under the cover.
Fuck, I want to taste her.
“Just like you have a brother.”
“You know my brother?” I smile, thinking she’s being dragged under already.
“Yes, I know Trace is your brother. Connor, Shane, and Griffin are your cousins.”
It should scare the piss out of me how she knows this. I should get the fuck out of here and tell Blade and Jett to make her disappear. Not kill her. Just take her someplace she’ll be safe until I figure out what the fuck to do.
“Get some rest, Fal.” I stand.
She reaches for me, fingers brushing my wrist. “You’ll be here when I wake up.”
It’s not a question.
I nod, figuring out I have to get a key to this place. “Aye. I’ll be here.”
And I mean it. Her clothes won’t be here, though. I have to burn those. But I won’t walk away from her. No matter the blood still pooled on my floor, a dead man waiting for disposal, a brooding Greek king, and the weight of her seeing it all.
Because Fallon Nova is not just my biggest problem.
She just might be my only salvation.
Chapter 16
Rhys
Ireturn to my flat, annoyed to find Ares still there. There are no guards in sight. Or anyone to help clean up the body.
Fuck.
The Greek bastard sits on my sofa, his expensive coat open, expressionless, despite walking into a crime scene. His gaze flicks to the body, then to me.
With that infuriating smugness, he says, “This is quite a mess, Rhys. I didn’t expect that killing a man, then fucking your girlfriend near the dead body was your kink.”
Blood boiling, I’m tempted to tell him that Griffin put a belt around his sister’s neck and made his wife blow him on top of a dead body.
I keep my mouth shut because I don’t need Ares storming off to kill the head of the Irish Mob and reignite a war we’ve all worked so hard to end. I need him here in my flat because this is his fault.
“She’s not my girlfriend. Not…really. And I didn’t fuck her near the body, I haven’t…” I stop talking when he looks bored. “Why are you still here?”
