Page 48 of Extradition (Mobsters + Billionaires 1)
“They?” Joe asks, staring at Edgerton.
He spears Joe with a look, giving him a sharp nod. “You passed their spotters on the way into the park. We found spotters from a different family at two other entrances and convinced them that you were a bad target.”
“You convinced them, huh?”
Edgerton’s jaw flexes. “If the medical bills cost more than the price on your head, they’ll think twice about targeting you. But that’s not a guarantee.”
The elevator doors open, and Edgerton exits first, then gestures at me to follow. When I stumble over the door track, Joe grabs my arm, steadying me with a hand at my back and walking me into the foyer.
I lean into his touch, hating the downturned angle of his mouth.
Grayson waits in the foyer for us, his eyes a bit wobbly. “I’m so sorry, sir. This is all my fault. I’ll have my resignation to you by this afternoon.”
I snort, mostly because I don’t have it in me not to. “I’ve asked you to call me Rand, and you’re not getting out of my service that easily, old chap. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I knew exactly which protocols I was ignoring, and I went through with it anyway.”
Grayson swallows thickly and bows his head. “Thank you, Rand.”
Joe, seeing our sorry states, takes charge. “Since we’ve all been appropriately chastised and are probably hitting an adrenaline wall, why don’t we all go to our neutral corners and check-in again around dinner. Sound good?”
Edgerton eyes me before nodding his assent. He and Grayson exit stage right while Joe guides me into the living room.
I turn to him, shaky and uncertain. “Joe, I—”
He holds up his hand. “I’m okay. We’re okay. I promise.”
I nod, feeling lost and stupid and horribly guilty.
“Come here,” he orders, opening his arms to me.
I stumble forward, crashing into the hug, nearly sobbing with relief as his strong arms surround me.
His lips brush my ear as he whispers, “You were never in any danger. He would’ve never touched you. I wouldn’t have allowed it.”
Even though I’m aware Joe is a human being like anyone else, capable of faltering, I know in my bones he is telling the truth. That man in the park was not mob enough to go against Joe’s brutal instincts.
And a small part of me thinks—hopes—that it’s personal. That he’s willing to violently, murderously protect me.
When he finally steps away from the hug, I rock forward, wanting to chase it, wanting his body against mine for the next several hours. Instead, I stifle the urge and rock back, giving him a stiff nod.
We part ways, each of us going to our own suites. I still feel the heat of his body when I collapse onto my bed and wish I had more than just the memory of his touch to surround me.
