Page 58 of Such A Good Guy

Ignatius ran his hands through his frizzy hair.

Luna, you have to realize what he is.”

“I know what he is. I’m still not giving him up.”

“Why?”

I thought back to the first time I had met him, the sudden flash of anger at how my jackass brother had been trying to cheat Luke.

“He’s a psychopath, but he’smyfucking psychopath and I’ll never turn on him.”

“Well, I can’t let you take my security,” Ignatius said, striding toward me as I gathered the papers in my arms. “I need that so you don’t get any funny ideas about prosecuting me.”

And there was only the slightest feeling of danger, raising the hairs on the back of my neck, and Luke eased himself through the open window, his eyes locked on Ignatius.

“Luke,” I said, “don’t kill him.”

“All right, baby girl,” he said. “Just tell me when.”

Ignatius turned and ran like a little bitch, but Luke was on him before he had made it halfway across the room, throwinghim against the wall and slamming his fist in the weaker man’s face.

“I’m ready to go to bed,” I said after a few minutes, and my psychopath turned, blood speckling the front of his face and white T-shirt.

“I’ll send you an invoice,” I said to Ignatius, tucking the evidence of Luke’s diagnosis under my arm and we walked out into the night.

On our way back, I grabbed the lighter from my back pocket and lit the papers on fire, watching the dark words crumble into ash.

“Does it bother you?” Luke asked. “I’m not like other men. I tried, though.”

“Does it make a difference what I think?” I retorted, although I felt my heart starting to pound faster as his fingers closed around the back of my throat. “Would you let me go?”

“No,” he said as his fingers lightly stroked up and down my neck, twining and twisting in my hair. “I’ll never let you go. Ican’tlet you go. But I don’t want it to bother you.”

“I’ll manage,” I said as he loomed over me, stepping so close that his flat athletic stomach hit my swelling baby bump. “I’m not afraid of you. Much.”

CHAPTER 20

Luna (several months later)

Irubbed my belly.

“How many minutes between that time?” I asked my husband.

“Contractions every 6-7 minutes,” he replied. “Let’s just go to the hospital. OK, Luna?”

“No,” I said. “you know perfectly well my doctor said either my water has to break or the contractions have to be 5 minutes or less apart. They’d just send us home probably.”

“If they won’t keep you there, I’llmakethem,” Luke said, his lip curled back.

Luke’s mask sliding back and forth shouldn’t make me this aroused, but it does.

He can flip a switch and go from angelic husband and international pop superstar to brutal unhinged psychopath in a second if he thinks someone is in my way.

Maybe I’m the one who needs therapy, because secretly I love it.

I can’t see the golden retriever without knowing about the reptilian monster underneath, and it pulls at something primal and wrong inside me.

Besides, Luke needs me. He can’t be trusted out in the world. He’s entirely amoral. He’d strangle someone for looking at me crosswise and eventually he’d get caught.

---