His gaze flicks toward the clubhouse, then back to me.
“To all of us,” he says. “Both Shadows and the Italians.”
For a second, the teasing fades.
Then he tilts his head slightly.
“And for the record,” he adds, tone going silk-smooth again, “my cousins may not do this from the heart… but I do not assign protection lightly.”
My irritation dims just a fraction.
“Still doesn’t mean I enjoy being shadowed by two brooding alien gargoyles,” I mutter.
Maverick smiles slowly.
“Gargoyles are traditionally placed to guard something valuable,” he says. “You should be flattered.”
I sigh dramatically.
“If they abduct me and take me to their home world, I’m blaming you.”
His laughter follows me as I head deeper into the compound.
And despite myself, I feel safer knowing the gargoyles are watching.
“Bye, alien gargoyles!” I call over my shoulder.
And immediately run face-first into a wall.
A very warm. Very solid. Very muscular wall.
Hands clamp down on my hips before I can bounce backward.
“Careful, babygirl,” Tank rumbles above me.
I freeze.
Because his hands are not ‘helping-me-balance’hands like Maverick’s were.
They are firm. Possessive.
He bends to meet my height, his body blocking the sun like he was handcrafted by some higher power that said,Let’s overdo it.
“Hey,” he adds, smiling down at me like I didn’t just almost concuss myself on his chest. “How’d things go today?”
I blink up at him, trying not to notice how warm his palms feel through the thin fabric of my dress.
“If I asked you to kill someone,” I say sweetly, “would you?”
“In a heartbeat,” he answers without missing one.
“Even if it’s someone you know?” I press.
His expression sharpens instantly.
“This person hurt you?”
“Annoyed me,” I correct.
