Page 11 of Carnal Urges
“I don’t give a shit about the tires. Rewind to the part about things getting bad and start over. What the hell is going on?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“If you can hand me a loaded gun and tell me to shoot an old lady between the eyes, you can tell me what’s happening. We’re past the honeymoon stage. Besides, I can handle it, no matter how bad it is. Spill.”
I could swear that flash in his eyes is admiration, but it’s probably just an urge to wrap his hands around my neck and choke me.
And not in the good way.
“War is what’s happening, Tinker Bell,” he says ominously. “War and all the bloody business that goes along with it.”
“Oh, swell. You’re being cryptic. I just love an incomprehensible Irishman. They’re my absolute favorite.”
“Careful. You’ll exhaust yourself using your entire vocabulary all at once.”
“Can you tell from my tone how much I want to smash the butt of this gun into your face?”
“Can you tell from my face how much I want to smash the palm of my hand into your butt?”
“That was stupid.”
“Says the girl who jumped from a speeding car.”
“I would’ve jumped from a skyscraper if it meant I wouldn’t have to be near you.”
“If I’d known that, I would’ve taken you straight to the top of the Hancock Tower.”
I roll my eyes. “Just tell me the truth. I swear I won’t burst into tears. The last time that happened was before I’d even gotten my first period.”
He pauses, his gaze assessing. “Tell me how it’s possible that you’re not scared of me, or of this situation, or of anything else as far as I can see, and I’ll tell you what’s happening.”
I give it serious thought for a moment. “Honestly? I’m just badass like that.”
After a short, disbelieving silence, Declan starts to laugh.
It’s a deep, rich, sexy sound, beautifully masculine. I hate myself for liking it. And for noticing what nice white teeth he has. And how strong his jaw is. And is that adimplein his cheek?
He stops laughing abruptly, looking as disturbed by the unexpected outburst as I am. Guess he wasn’t expecting that, either.
“Got that out of your system?”
Glowering, he says, “Aye.”
“Good. So who’s going to be shooting at us?”
“MS-13.”
More gangsters. I’m in up to my eyeballs. “Because…?”
“They don’t like me.”
I stare at him with my lower lip pinched between my teeth.
He says drily, “Thank you for showing restraint. It must be incredibly difficult.”
“You have no idea.”
“There’s another reason they’re after me.”
