Page 86 of Goodnight, Sinners

Shaun had immediately climbed on top of him and coaxed him to put his book down and leave his glasses on while she rode him.

She’d later found out that he felt self-conscious wearing them. Although he didn’t consider his lack of voice to be a disability, he knew others thought that, and he didn’t want to give away another potential weakness.

Shaun had teased him, saying that approximately thirteen percent of the adult population had eye troubles, but Jozef had been serious. He’d told her that a potential assassin would look at any weakness as an opportunity to take advantage. Jozef needed to portray strength, especially since he was master of his own section of the underworld, and everyone who knew of him knew he didn’t have a voice.

She glanced at his screen and saw a spreadsheet open with columns of numbers that made no sense and a language she didn’t recognize. It amused her that half of Jozef’s job was business. It felt strange to her that the mafia crunched numbers and created business plans.

Shaun pushed her seat back and grabbed the blanket Jozef had requested for her. She stared at him until the gentle hum of the aircraft lulled her into a nap.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Jozef woke Shaun shortly before the plane landed.

She grumbled at him for making her sit up and put her seatbelt back on.

“We’re on a private jet, I should be able to sleep through the landing.”

You can sleep but you have to do it sitting up with your seatbelt on.

“And my tray table in an upright and locked position. Blah, blah, blah. You own the aircraft, you can suspend a few of the rules.” She patted her hair, wincing when it felt as bad as she suspected it looked. That was the problem with wearing an afro. She had to have an emergency recovery effort whenever she slept. “I worked a twelve-hour shift at the hospital with four of those hours on my feet in surgery. I need to get my beauty sleep before I have to dodge mafia bullets.”

Not funny, Jozef signed, pulling the blanket from her lap, folding it and setting it aside.

She found it endearing that Jozef tended to be the more domestic of the two of them.

I won’t compromise with your safety. You wear your seatbelt, you follow the rules, or I will take your driver’s license away.

He’d returned her driver’s license to her and given her a car once she’d settled into a routine at the hospital. As long as she promised to have a contingent of bodyguards on her tail and Cooper in the car with her, he was fine with her driving. Shaun loved to drive and did it like she performed surgery: with precision, by her own rules, and creatively when necessary.

I don’t know what my driver’s license has to do with not wanting to wake up until we’ve landed.Now that she was waking up, she switched to signing. These days she signed more than spoke, though she often caught herself doing both depending on who they were with.

If you won’t wear your seatbelt on an airplane, then I can’t trust you to wear one in the car.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she grumbled.

He leaned over and kissed her scowl away. When he continued to linger, Shaun smiled against his lips and pushed herself against his chest, deepening the kiss.

A whistle sounded from the back of the plane that had Jozef whipping his head around to glare at his men. Only it wasn’t his men grinning at them and catcalling, it was Ayaan.

Shaun giggled as Jozef turned back around with a frown.

Ayaan definitely got away with more than Jozef’s men could. She was incorrigible, which got on Jozef’s nerves, but she knew when to draw the line and be serious.

Shaun suspected Jozef was seeing the young woman as a little sister. She wondered if his protective instincts would interfere with his ability to send Ayaan on dangerous missions. She noticed that occasionally Jozef sent his men away without Ayaan, much to the girl’s consternation.

When the plane landed and came to a safe halt, Jozef stood and took Shaun’s hand. Instead of leading her off the plane with the rest of his people, he pulled her to the back of the plane where their luggage was stored. He pointed at a set of fancy blue Ralph Lauren suitcases.

Shaun shook her head, bewildered.

He picked up one of the garment bags and slung it across a row of seats, unzipping it. She gasped as he pulled a handful of hangers with some of the finest clothes she'd had ever seen.

A gift,he signed.

She touched the fabrics and quickly checked the labels. They were all her size and, as she rifled through them, all a twist on her usual style. They looked comfortable, but with a fine finish that gave them the illusion of being extremely chic and in fashion.

I love them, she signed enthusiastically.But why did you get me to pack my own bag if you already had clothes for me?

You didn’t give me a chance and your bag was already packed by the time I reached the bedroom. He pulled an outfit from the bag. It was a dark purple skirt suit, with a pencil skirt and a cream-coloured blouse with a lace panel at the cleavage. She touched the fabric, feeling the waterfall of silk slide through her fingers.

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