Page 17 of Not Mine to Keep

Me:But we need Rocco to tryand come after me. Remember? I’m the bait to draw that motherfucker out from the dark hole he’s been hiding in and break the truce his father made with my family.

Before he could respond with any cautious warnings, I fired off another message.

Me:I received the file you sent me.

Hudson:You really plan to show her that? It’s gory. I mean, it’s the things nightmares are made of. Fuck, I didn’t sleep at all last night after compiling it for you.

I peered over at the passenger seat, which had the documents Hudson had emailed me inside an envelope, sitting beneath my black ball cap. I’d printed all twenty-five pages and then erased any evidence I’d ever used the hotel’s printer.

Me:If she doesn’t either run or choose me, then she needs to know the truth about the man her father’s going to force her to marry. This should convince her. Well, as long as she believes I didn’t just print the script for a horror film. Going to see her now.

I checked the time. Two minutes to 0800 hours. When I’d driven by her house five minutes ago, I’d clocked her father’s “guard” parked two houses down and fast asleep.Some protection.

Hudson:Keep me posted. I assume if she goes through with the “tying the knot” plan, you’re flying commercial to Italy, so your family doesn’t find out?

I groaned at the thought, but I had no choice.

Me:Unfortunately. And I’ll need to make a stop first. Swing by The League leader’s place in Sicily.

Hudson:Emilia Calibrisi’s? Well, she’s married to an Irishman now. Billionaire family. The McGregors. Guess she’s not as crazy about keeping her bloodline pure Italian like Armani. But you think she’ll just let you walk up to her door and ring the bell? You don’t actually know her, and you can’t ask your old man to call first since he’s in the dark about your plan.

Me:I’ll figure it out. I need her on board or this whole plan falls apart before it starts.

Hudson:Pretty sure you need your bride to accept your proposal first.

Me:You’re loving that part of this, aren’t you?

Hudson:Better you than me. But none of us ever thought we’d see the day you’d be married, so yeah, it’s ... crazy, to say the least.

Me:And you’re one to talk? You’re as bad as me on the whole bachelorhood thing.

Hudson:No one is at your level when it comes to women, man. Give me a break.

Me:Yeah, yeah. Well, this whole thing is an assignment. Temporary. I’ll be single again soon enough. I won’t be treating her like she’s actually mine.

Hudson:I need to make coffee before we start discussing your sex life with your future wife. Give me a minute.

Me:Fuck off, I’m going dark now. Be in touch.

I pocketed my phone, slid my hat on backward, then snatched the file and made my way down a side street to slip into her backyard unseen. Her guard may have been asleep, but I didn’t need him waking at the wrong time and finding me on her doorstep. Or hell, finding myself on the other side of Mr. Crabby’s shotgun.

I’d thought that was her nickname for him, but when I did a quick background check on her neighbors at 0400 hours, unable to sleep, I’d discovered that was his actual name. Just thought she was being cute.

She is cute. Shit.I couldnotthink about this woman in any way other than as an assignment. Someone to save. And a way to get justice for Constantine and to prevent Rocco’s family from being so powerful they could unleash hell on the world. Period.

Once at her back door, I knocked twice, and I was surprised she didn’t waste time in opening up. Prompt. I liked it. What I didn’t like was that when she swung open the door, she was in skintight black yoga pants and a white tank top, wearing an adorable scowl and a sexy-as-fuck messy bun.

“Hi.” She folded her arms, using her hip to keep the door propped open, blocking my path with her gorgeous figure.

“Glad to see you’re dressed this time.” Not the morning greeting I’d planned to go with, but this woman had an uncanny ability to trip me up when talking.

You’re off-limits. I can’t have you. So of course, I want you.I was addicted to the chase, and it’d been forever and a day since the chase involved a woman and not a criminal.That’s all it is, though. My addiction to the hunt,I rationalized.Oh, how my therapist would be proud at my self-reflection.She was going to have a field day with this whole situation in our next session. Well, I couldn’t exactly tell her why or who I was marrying, but I’d learned to be creative in our conversations to hide the truth.

“How much of me did you see last night?” Calliope-Callie—I was still uncertain what to call her, even in my head—waited for my answer, scrutinizing me.

No puffy eyes from a night of crying that I could tell. In fact, she looked well rested. But her casual attitude concerned me. If she wasn’t even remotely afraid of me, I’d need to keep a better eye on her.

I lifted a brow. “Truth?”

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