Page 81 of Graveyards & Greed

“You have two days,” he murmured against my ear.

“Two months. And I said I’d think about it.”

“One day,” he countered.

“For such an expensive attorney, you suck at this negotiation thing. Ten days.”

He inhaled sharply. “Five, and that’s my best offer.”

I bit his chin. “Fine.”

Gia cleared her throat from the doorway, and we slowly broke apart. “I’ve never heard a proposal quite like that, but let me be the first to congratulate you. Sylvie, call me if you have any complications.” Her lips twitched as she walked out.

I turned to Drakos. “How do you feel about having Carl live with us? He’s grumpy, loud, and he sheds. You have more invested in your suits than most people have in their retirement, so I don’t ask lightly.”

Drakos smirked. “That’s what lint rollers are for. And Carl hates Roman, which makes me like the little demon even more. Are you ready to go?”

I laid my head on his shoulder and relaxed against him, not caring if I got blood on his pristine white dress shirt. His comforting, delicious scent and steady heartbeat helped the last dregs of adrenaline and fear float away.

“Thank you for coming for me. When I was lying in the back of that SUV, listening to them talk about how they were going to… Well, anyway, I wondered if I’d ever see my family again. I worried that I’d never seeyouagain, and I decided to accept your asinine proposal.” Heat rose in my cheeks, but I pressed on. “And not because it would give me added protection or we’d have spousal immunity.”

His eyes glinted wickedly and he carefully squeezed me to him. “You scared the shit right out of me. I want to get you clean, then curl up in bed and just hold you for a few hours.”

My eyes glistened and I sniffed. “That sounds perfect.”

He stood and kissed the top of my head. “I also need to figure out a way to fuck you without jarring any of your injuries. Let’s go home.”

Chapter 31

Drakos

Carnival music played. I held a brass pole attached to the black horse I usually rode when my grandfather took me to ride that old, majestic carousel. He scowled in my dream as he leaned against a snarling wooden tiger.

“Drakos, my boy, I feel the need to kick your backside.”

I smiled as I studied his beloved, wrinkled face. “What for this time, old man?”

He huffed. “For that wretched proposal. Sylvie deserves better than that, and I didn’t raise an idiot. You need to fix this.”

“She agreed to marry me. What more do you want?”

Sighing in disgust, he shook his head. “You need to begin how you mean to go on. Tell herwhyyou want to marry her—that you love her, and she’s delightful, kind, loyal, and protective. For a smart boy, you really messed it up.”

I leaned back against the stallion. “She’s scared and skittish. I don’t think she ever planned to marry.”

He folded his arms, and I noticed he wore his favorite old tweed coat with the patches on his elbows. “Are you talking about her—or yourself?”

“I’ll fix it,” I murmured, wincing as his words hit home.

“Good. Now let’s talk about grandbabies.”

Sighing, I climbed onto the black stallion as he sat on the tiger. “We aren’t even married yet. And what if she doesn’t want kids?”

He grinned, and I noticed his silver front tooth. “I think she does, but maybe not right away. That girl is kindhearted and not afraid to show it to the people she loves.”

The view beyond the carousel looked like a blurry, rain-washed Monet painting, and I noticed the lake not far from my grandfather’s old house in the distance.

“I want to be one of those people,” I admitted as the stallion bobbed up and down.

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