Page 14 of Precious Hazard

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

By the time I walk up to my vehicle, Riggo has managed to stuff Katrakis’s body in the trunk and is now holding the back passenger door open. I lower the grumbling woman to the ground and nod toward the seat. “Get in.”

Something hard pokes into my stomach. I look down to see my own gun pointed at my gut.

“I am not getting into that car with you, DeVille.”

I must really be losing my edge if I didn’t notice her pulling my Sig from the back of my pants while she was dangling upside down. Or maybe I was too distracted by her ass mere inches from my face.

“Do you even know how to use a gun?” I ask.

“Care to find out?”

I sigh. The safety is still on. I’m done with this standoff. Grabbing the barrel, I slowly pull it up and press it to my chest. “Either shoot or get in the damn car.”

Glaring at me as if she could eviscerate me with her eyes alone, Tara begrudgingly lets go of the weapon. Then, will miracles never cease, she actually does as she’s told and gets into the car.

I give Riggo the address and directions to Popov’s mansion before popping open the trunk. Stavros’s body is cramped inside, his arms slumped at strange angles. This bastard is lucky he isn’t alive, otherwise he’d be hurting something awful come morning. I throw the gun in, and it hits Stavros’s head and bounces off to fall somewhere behind the body.

“A town car and a chauffeur,” Tara mumbles as I slide onto the seat next to her. “I should have guessed. Is driving yourself beneath you, DeVille?”

“No. I’ll get my license back in a couple of months.”

“Say what now? How did a rule follower like you manage to lose your license?”

“Speeding.”

I hit the button to raise the privacy divider. Once the barrier is fully up, I turn to face the pint-size hellion.

She’s moved as far away from me as possible, curling up with her head leaning on the side window. As we cruise along the illuminated roads, the intermittent glow of street lights falls on Tara’s face. She’s a rather cute little thing. But only by outward appearances.

Her long, dark-brown locks are gathered into a high ponytail that somehow emphasizes her delicate facial features. The most striking of which are her big, round eyes lined with long black lashes. Their color is the most vibrant shade of green. Like a springtime forest. Or emeralds. They remind me of the irises of the cat that leaped in front of my SUV the other day. That feline’s peepers glowed in the dark. Witch’s eyes. But Tara’s are bright with her stubborn resolve. And then, there’s her lower lip… Slightly fuller than the upper one, giving her a permanent pouty look. Her nose is small and slightly upturned, sprinkledwith a multitude of tiny freckles. Knowing her personality, however, I would’ve expected her to sport horns, not freckles. I’m not yet fully convinced that she doesn’t, despite her innocent looks.

“We need to finish our discussion from the other night, Tara.”

“The marriage nonsense? I thought I made myself perfectly clear.”

“Yes. But it appears that I have not. We are getting married. The decision has been made, and there’s nothing either of us can do about it. You are, however, encouraged to share your preferences regarding decorations and catering.”

She twists in her seat, practically launching herself within inches of my face. “There’s no way in hell—”

I press my finger over her mouth, silencing her. “You shouldn’t have killed the Katrakis heir, Tara.”

“What? You shot Stavros, not me!”

“Really? Then why areyourfingerprints all over the gun used to kill him?”

Those alluringly green eyes widen, watching me with an expression that hints at confusion and alarm. And for just an instant, I lose myself in their mysterious depths.

So pretty.

Like dawn-kissed dew shimmering on a blanket of young grass.

It’s hard to pull myself back to the here and now.

“I’m a very careful person,gattina. I clean and wipe down my weapons every evening. You won’t find my prints onany of the guns I use. Not if I can help it. After all, you never know when one of them may turn up as a murder weapon.”

Tara’s face morphs into a mask of horror as she watches me remove my leather gloves and throw them on the side console.

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