Page 194 of Sins of Arrogance

And maybe some­day, if he re­ally be­lieves the words he said to Mick and acts like it, I’ll even like him.

“I didn’t un­der­stand the nu­ances of love.”

“Be­cause you’ve never loved any­one else.”

“Not even my fam­ily.”

“But es­pe­cially not Dier­dre.”

“Fuck no! Not that dis­loyal piece of shite.”

“Tell me how you re­ally feel,” I tease, but I won’t pre­tend I don’t like him say­ing that.

“She was work­ing with Darakov.”

“The Rus­sian?”

“Aye. In ex­change for in­for­ma­tion on our mob, he promised to back out of the mar­riage al­liance.”

“Why didn’t Dier­dre just say no?”

“Be­cause her da threat­ened to cut her off fi­nan­cially if she did.”

“I could al­most feel sorry for her. It’s a hor­ri­ble feel­ing to think you’re pow­er­less in choos­ing your own fu­ture.”

“Don’t waste your ten­der heart on her. She planned to kill you. Even if she hadn’t been a traitor, I would have killed her.”

“Be­cause you will al­ways pro­tect me.”

“Al­ways.”

“Be­cause you love me to the depths of your so­cio­pathic soul.”

“I’m not sure I have a soul, mo chiste is a stór.”

“Your cher­ished love? You’re pulling out all the stops now.” I’m teas­ing him, but my throat is thick with tears.

Be­cause there’s not a sin­gle bit of me that doubts that is ex­actly what I am to my ruth­less mob un­der­boss.

His cher­ished love. His trea­sure. His heart and its pulse.

His ev­ery­thing.

Later that night, af­ter we’ve tucked Fitz into bed, Mick asks me if I want to go swim­ming.

Lov­ing how he’s mak­ing it clear he wants to spend time with me, not just in the bed­room, I say yes.

When we get to said bed­room, Mick holds up the tini­est green bikini I’ve ever seen.

“You can’t wear this back at the man­sion.” His tone is a mix of warn­ing and heat. “It’s hard enough for me to let you wear your tank­i­nis where the sol­diers can see you. This? This is for when it’s just us.”

I arch a brow. “What about Brice and the oth­ers here?”

“My crew know bet­ter than to look.”

I be­lieve him. But it still sends a lit­tle thrill through me that I’m the one who can make this man come un­done.

When we get out­side, the sun’s gone down, the moon is ris­ing, and the wa­ter glows un­der soft deck lights.