Page 54 of Coerced Wife
I clench my jaw. “He picked a fight with the wrong man.”
“What are you going to do?”
I think about that. “I’m going to tell him to stay the hell away from us. He obviously didn’t understand me the first time. I’ll have to make my point clearer.”
“Are you going to kill him?” she asks in a small voice.
My hackles rise. “Would it bother you if I did?”
“Yes,” she says softly.
I slam on the brakes and pull off the road, parking on the curb. Clenching the wheel hard, I face her. “Why? Because you care about what happens to him?”
“I don’t want another murder on my conscience.”
Her words still me. “Lewis’s death wasn’t your fault.”
“I knew something was wrong. He was acting strange. I could’ve stopped him from leaving. I could’ve prevented what happened if I’d finished working when he told me to and walked to the subway with him.”
Gripping her face, I splay my fingers over her cheeks. “Nothing you could’ve done would’ve stopped what happened. You couldn’t prevent it. Lewis signed his death warrant when he stole that money, and that’s the end of the story. You will not blame yourself, do you hear me?”
She nods in my hold, but the act isn’t convincing.
I caress her jaw, tracing the delicate line with my thumb before letting her go.
“Promise me,” she whispers. “Please, Sav.”
Fuck. I can’t deny her. Not when she begs.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she says, putting her hand on my thigh. “Kearney isn’t just anybody. He’s a justice. Who’s going to be your alibi this time, huh? You may not be so lucky again.”
Yes, she’s definitely my lucky charm. And fuck me if her concern doesn’t turn my insides into mush.
I cup her hand where it rests on my leg. “I won’t kill him.”
She lets out an audible breath. “Thank you.”
But I am going to make him pay for what he did to my girl.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Anya
Saverio spoons me from behind in his bed with one hand resting on my belly and his forearm serving as a cushion for my head. We’re both breathing hard, each of us coming down from an intense climax. What was supposed to be an afternoon nap turned into a marathon sex session. He’s still hard inside me, but I don’t have the energy to go for round four.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asks, kissing my shoulder.
“Wait until I’m nine months and I can’t see my toes any longer.”
He brushes his lips over the arch of my neck. “You’ll be even more beautiful then.”
“My stomach will get in the way when we have sex. We’ll be forced to do it like this all the time.”
“I’ll want you even more,” he says in a husky voice. “Trust me, treasure, I’ll be inside you at every chance I get.”
That makes me smile.