Page 14 of His Public Claim
Lev focuses on the road.
My brain is running a mile a minute.
It was Lev who made me come, twice. Who breached me. Who cared for me. Who saved me.
“You protected me.”
“Anyone would have done the same.”
I shake my head. “No, they wouldn’t.” He killed a man. He might have started a mafia war he can’t win and fear shivers over me. “You killed the cobra.”
“I’d do it again.” His tone has a savage bite to it that takes my breath away.
“Who was it?”
“Kingpin of Braintree.” He snorts. “Couldn’t have happened to a better person. That’s who has been extorting and manipulating your family. Your father in particular. Don’t worry. Essex doesn’t care about anything but money. I’ll pay them off.”
Oh god. He shouldn’t have to, but I can’t say no. I need Lev’s help more than ever. I hide my face in my hands as the wind snatches at my hair. I love this man, he took my V-card. He’s honourable. And he gave me orgasms. Two of them, when he didn’t have to.
He’s also way older than me. My parents and David especially will flip out if they discover what happened. I imagine calmly stating that the best friend of my big brother is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. Everyone would think I’ve lost it, Lev included.
“I know it’s a clusterfuck,” he mutters.
And even as I nod my agreement, my soul splinters a bit. He wishes we hadn’t done this. I’m basically a kid, irrelevant, compared to him. But he made me feel so special. And while my brain is busy pointing out the multitude of reasons this is a bad idea, my heart, and other parts of my body, are making very different noises.
“Was David aware you went to get me?”
“Yeah,” he replies grimly. “But it seems he didn’t realise the fine print of what the deal was. He didn’t think I’d have to…”
Lev doesn’t finish the sentence. Hedoesn’t need to. I would have been taken unawares by the public sex after the auction if it weren’t for the Essex girls’ chatter. My family would be horrified.
“David can never know how you saved me,” I whisper.
“Agreed.” I want to believe there’s sorrow in his tone, but that’s wishful thinking.
I love this man, and I have even more reason than ever to worship him. He’s never been further from me than he is now.
“I’m sorry,” I say in a small voice.
“Don’t apologise.Youhave nothing to regret in this. You were brave and strong, and admirable and beautiful in every way.”
Oh wow. That’s a lot of praise. I digest it silently, not wanting to prompt him to take it back. I turn it over and enjoy the words like they’re a delicious chocolate treat, examining and enjoying each part as Lev drives onwards through the darkness. Brave and strong. Admirable. Beautiful.
Ineveryway.
He thinks I’m beautiful. Maybe it’s just in this dress… But I can wear it for the rest of my life, right? No problem. White silk, totally practical everyday clothing.
“How’s your photography going?” Lev asks after we’ve sat in silence for a while.
I jolt with surprise. I’m astonished he remembers that. I must look at him strangely, because Lev raises a shoulder in a gesture of dismissal that it’s important that he recalls what my hobby-and-would-like-to-be profession is, and asked, when my family rarely mentions it, except to tell me to put the camera away, I’m not a paparazzi.
“Good, actually. Thank you.”
“What have you been photographing recently?”
“Lots of still life. I’d love to have a go at more portrait photography, but I don’t like to ask for permission, and I don’t feel right taking photos without it. Unethical, you know?”
“Yeah,” he agrees in a strained voice. He swallows. “You can take pictures of me if you want. You don’t have to ask.”
