Page 16 of Her Michigan Mob Boss

“I’ll bet.” It wasn’t a job I could see myself doing. “So, you’re on summer break right now?”

“Yes. I’ve had two weeks’ holiday already. There’s four and a half to go.”

So, she didn’t have to rush back to Scotland for work. That piqued my interest. I tilted her head back a little more as I poured another jugful over her hair. I didn’t want to get shampoo in her eyes.

“Any plans for the rest of your vacation?”

“No, I’m just going to read, relax, meet friends for lunch, that sort of thing.” She pursed her lips as if an annoying thought had occurred to her. “I have to paint my kitchen, though.”

“You’re not going to hire someone to do it?” I couldn’t think of any woman I knew who would get hands-on with a project like that.

“Of course not. I can paint a few walls easily enough.”

“Sure, but you didn’t sound enthusiastic about it.”

“I’m not, but I can’t afford to not do it myself. I spent most of my savings to come here.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “So, if you were planning to seduce me for my money, you’re out of luck.”

I laughed loudly at that. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I have a little of my own.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Annie waved a hand around the room. My apartment was luxurious. “What do you do exactly?”

There’s no way I was about to tell her I headed up one of the most powerful mafia organizations in the Midwest. I didn’t want to scare her off. “I run a couple of businesses.”

“They must do well if you can afford to pay men to kidnap unsuspecting tourists.”

“They do all right, and that’s not something I make a habit of.”

“Glad to hear it.”

She closed her eyes and hummed quietly to herself as I finished rinsing her hair. When I was done, I helped her out of the rapidly cooling water and wrapped her in a fluffy black towel. I grabbed a second towel and dried her hair the best I could. As I finished, she yawned widely. Clearly, the bath had relaxed her more than I intended.

“You need to change,” Annie said, motioning toward my soaked-through pants.

“Yeah, and we need to get you dressed. I’d like to take you to one of my favorite spots for something to eat.”

“Sounds good.”

I steered Annie back into the bedroom. “Wait here. I’ll go fetch your clothes.”

She took a seat on the edge of the bed, and I went to the living room to retrieve her clothing. Her dress lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. She couldn’t wear that. Fortunately, Emily kept some clothing here for when she stayed over. I didn’t think Annie would want to wear another woman’s lingerie and, to be honest, I didn’t like the idea of rummaging through my sister’s underwear to find something suitable.

Scooping up Annie’s bra and panties, I headed along the corridor, past my bedroom, to the room Emily used. Her closet contained only a dozen different items, but I found a pair of jeans and a shirt that would probably fit my girl.

Mygirl. I should not be thinking of her that way, but I couldn’t help it.

With the borrowed clothing, I made my way back to my bedroom. I pushed open the door and stopped dead at what lay before me. Annie was curled up on the bed, the towel still wrapped around her, fast asleep. I walked over, as quietly as a man of my size could, to get a closer look at her. She was so peaceful. Like this, she appeared almost angelic, with wisps of golden hair framing her face.

I could picture myself waking up next to her every morning. The thought shocked me, and I paused to ponder it. My reputation with women wasn’t good. I wasn’t normally one for any sort of romantic gesture, but I imagined myself bringing Annie flowers, buying her pieces of jewelry. Already I was a different person around her. Though my desire to dominate was still there, I also wanted to show her a softer side I thought had been buried years ago.

Saying goodbye to her tomorrow would kill me. I had to find a way to make her stay.

ChapterSeven

Annie

Walking along the street with two incredibly tall, muscular men a couple of paces behind us was a strange experience. I felt as if I’d done something wrong, that I was being marched off to answer for some crime I’d committed. They didn’t speak, and neither did we. I was too self-conscious to chat with Ciaran, knowing his bodyguards would hear every word. He made no attempt to initiate a conversation either, so I assumed he was happy with the increasingly awkward silence.

The looming presence of the two impeccably dressed members of his security team made me question how wealthy the man I was strolling along the street beside actually was. Surely only the richest people needed this level of security to walk a mere two blocks from their apartment.

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