“Yeah,” he breathed. “I need to know you’re safe.”
I picked the bullet and clip from his hand, placed the shell back with the rest, and popped the clip into the weapon.
“Thank you, Liam. I mean it.” Turning my gaze up to his, I kept my face serious, hoping he would see the truth there. “No one has ever trusted me like this.”
“We can go to the range and practice if you’d like,” he offered.
Biting my lip to keep from smiling like an idiot, I nodded. “I would love that.”
“Good.” The word was gruff. His tone sounded…frustrated.
“Would you hold onto it for me?” I didn’t release the slide, offering it back to him. “I don’t have anywhere to conceal it.” I gestured at the ridiculous cosplay dress. “Maybe you could help me find a thigh holster,” I added, trying to sound seductive.
But the masked devil only responded with a rough grunt.
Liam took the weapon, released the slide, and tucked it back in the waistband of his pants.
There was something off between us. Cavolo! Didn’t he realize he was perfect for me?
I offered him my hand. Liam looked at it for a moment. With a sigh, he clutched my fingers in his bare hand, and I fell into step beside him. As we stepped under the cover of the mighty trees, my private turmoil faded to the background. This place was unreal. Five stones, placed at even intervals, marked the meeting place. A bonfire raged in the center. This place didn’t seem like something that fit an organized crime unit. It was older. Ancient memories whispered through the bows. As we passed one slab, garish, fiery light danced across it. There were markings etched into the stone.
If I felt like an outsider before, this was worse. Granted, there were other women here, but their gazes combined with those of the males were piercing. They haunted my every step. Their judgement bore into me. I wasn’t one of them. What was thelittle Italian girl, the black sheep of the Morelli Famiglia, doing walking beside this handsome, otherworldly prince?
“Murderess!”
The word shrieked through the branches. The leaves rustled with fiendish delight.
They knew.
They can’t possibly know!
No one had said anything about the tracker. They didn’t know I was responsible. Worse…they didn’t know I was capable of murder. That it wasn’t a foreign concept. They would read my sins and say I’d done it again. Their outright dislike made me want to run.
Liam went to the largest stone, the one that stood six inches above the others. It had a seat carved from the same material butted up against the slab. He let go of my hand.
I had to clasp mine together to keep from clawing for him. Making myself as small as possible, I shrank away from the pool of firelight and risked a peek.
The Irish weren’t looking at me.
They watched Liam.
Breathing hard, I forced myself to calm down. I was perfectly safe here. There was no reason for them to turn on me. Something black fluttered to the ground. I stifled a squeak but then wanted to smack myself. It was a shirt. A man’s dress shirt. Not a ghoul come out of the dark—
Wait.
A shirt.
My gaze snapped to Liam.
To the man who’d married me days and days ago but had never been naked with me. His shoes and socks landed on the shirt. Those sure, strong, bloodstained hands were on his belt.
I fucking froze.
In one smooth move, he stripped. Boxers, pants, and even the mask dropped inches from my feet. It felt wrong to watch, but I couldn’t make myself stop. Slowly, I drug my gaze up his bare feet. Those thick calves and even thicker thighs were pale in the fierce, blazing light. His cock swung between his legs, balls heavy enough to make my mouth water. Ink stained his torso, creating intricate designs over his chest cavity, and there was even a piece decorating the base of his abs.
A freaking adonis belt melded into them.
How had it been weeks and I hadn’t licked every inch of that glorious body?
