Page 58 of The Mafia Enforcer's Temptation
“Piotyr.”
“A dead man.” I slide my hand around her throat and squeeze, and the hate turns into flames of lust. I lean into her and bite her lip, hard, then I kiss her without warning, like I want to punish, like I need her life essence.
Like I need her.
Which I fucking don’t.
“And,” I say, lifting my head, tightening my hold, “I’ll kill you, too, if you so much as look at another man.”
She glares. “Reasonable.”
“I thought so.” This time, I take her mouth in a slow, sensual kiss, and her tongue is ready to dance with mine. It’s heady, and every part of me is drowning in the essence of the caress, but she’s the one dragging me down with her because the deeper the kiss, the hungrier and more compliant she is.
Almost like giving in and opening the doors.
I break the kiss. “I just could never stand Piotyr. He was a bully, a coward, and a nasty piece of work who could play games. Tell me, were you seduced by him?”
Ava doesn’t answer. Instead, she turns and gets into the car. And I slam the door after her. I think it’s best to ride up front with Mikey, who wisely doesn’t say a word.
“Cal—” The words die on my lips.
The living room off the foyer is a haze of smoke. Callahan’s Carrolls and cigars.
Dec’s in there, standing by the window. He shoots me a look, one that’s bursting with things he’s unable to say.
I take a step inside and come to a physical stop, Ava slamming right into my back.
“Romanov,” I say. “Here to offer your congratulations?”
“Fuck,” Ava says, barely a whisper as her fingers latch on to my suit jacket.
I have to say, I’m a little shocked that she grabs at me. Shocked and…
And her touch sends a wave of heat through me. Nothing more. Just a chemical reaction.
I glance at Callahan, who’s sprawled in the armchair, a glass of whiskey in his hand as the salt-and-pepper-haired Romanov sits on the sofa, cigar in one hand, vodka in the other. And he turns, taking us both in.
Pleased is not a word I’d use. Neither is warm.
“Ava,” he says, eyeing her as she comes to stand next to me. His gaze plummets to the ring. “Murphy.”
He probably only knows Cal’s name. “Seamus,” I say with that careless tone I use to cover anything and everything. “Or Mr. Murphy. Either one.Iosif.”
“You disappoint me, Ava. I’ll let Leonid know the wedding’s off.” And he downs a big swallow of the vodka.
“Leonid?” I murmur to her. “You do get around.”
“Fuck you,” she whispers back.
“Later,” I say. Then I raise my voice. “To what do we owe this visit?”
“We’re getting to that, Seamus,” Cal mutters. “Go on, Iosif.”
“As I said, there have been threats aimed at us, at my son. And my… ward.” At that, his gaze moves sharply to Ava. “We’d like some help.”
“We’re finished with that. It was a one-time deal,” Cal says.
I don’t ask where Torin is because he’s probably manning computers or has a gun trained on Romanov’s men, who would be outside.
