I ask in a whisper. “What did you say?”
“I love you, baby.” He cups my face.
Tears sting my eyes. “Zak… I love you too,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
Then he’s kissing me. Deep, desperate, claiming. Like one of the unhinged heroes from my books…
Nine
Nadia
I’m exhausted when I walk out of the clinic. It’s been a long shift. Three hours of overtime because we were short-staffed. My feet hurt. My back hurts. I just want to go home, take a hot shower, and curl up with my husband on the couch.
But when I step outside, Zak’s not in his usual spot by the Maserati.
He’s leaning against a different car, a sleek black Range Rover, with his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. Looking like every badass mobster fantasy I’ve ever had in another custom-made dark suit.
His eyes find mine, and my insides melt. God, will this ever get old?
I walk over to him, rising on my tiptoes to kiss him. “New car?”
He just nods. No explanation. Typical. Pushing off the SUV to open the passenger door for me. “How was work?”
I sigh. “Long, tiring.” I climb in and sink into the leather seat.
He steals another kiss before closing my door, leaving me already half-dazed. Then walks around and slides into the driver’s seat.
“I have a surprise for you.”
I grin wide. “What kind of surprise?”
He winks. “The good kind.”
He starts the engine, pulling out of the parking lot.
“Zaaaaak,” I whine, making him chuckle.
He gives me a mischievous look, but his only answer is, “Baby.”
“Where are we going?” I groan again.
His lips stretch into a blinding smile. “You’ll see.”
God, I love seeing my husband happy, relaxed, and playful. I study him as he drives. He has one big, strong hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console. All tanned skin, tattoos, and prominent veins. Ugh, kill me now!
I reach over, sliding my fingers over his. He glances at me, laces our fingers together, and brings my hand to his mouth to kiss my knuckles. My poor heart…
“You’re being suspiciously nice,” I tease him.
More deliciously rumbly chuckles. “I’m always nice to you, babe.”
I huff. “You’re bossy.”
“That, too.”
* * *
We drive for about twenty minutes. I watch the city pass by, trying to figure out where we’re going. When he pulls into a parking garage attached to a huge convention center, I sit up straighter.
