Page 76 of Devious Obsession
“What about dinner?” I tease.
“If we stay here, I’m going to throw you over the table and devour you. And I’m pretty sure it would get back to Alexander by the time we got to the car.”
“So this was all his idea.” I raise my brows at him, daring him to deny it.
“He said if he were to propose to Megan again, this is how he would do it.” He admits.
“Propose?” I laugh. “I’m not sure any of you know what that word means. He forced her to marry him. And you didn’t even ask, you demanded.”
He smiles brilliantly and says, “And you like it that way.”
Damn him.
Just because he’s right, doesn’t mean he’s right.
“I thought you wanted to leave.” I pull my wrap from beneath my chair.
He grabs my hand, yanking me toward the door. There’s no need for the manhandling, I’ll follow this man to the ends of the earth, but I don’t hate it.
“Sir? Is everything all right?” The waiter hurries to follow us as we make our way to the stairs.
“We won’t be staying,” Artem says, slowing at the stairs so I don’t fall and break my neck with my sky-high heels. But he gets annoyed when I slow too much and sweeps me up into his arms and carries me down.
“Um, is there anything I can…do?” The waiter hurries to keep up with us, probably afraid he’s losing a huge tipping customer.
“Charge the card on file for the full dinner,” Artem tells the hostess as we pass her and her shocked expression.
“Dammit.” Annoyed when he remembers he valeted his car, he puts me back down, steadying me on my feet before letting go. He demands the valet get the car now.
“I hope you’re not this hurried when we get home,” I tease, pinching his arm.
He shoots me a look that would make grown men crap their pants. I laugh.
While waiting for the car, his phone vibrates repeatedly, several messages coming through one after the other.
He digs it out and swipes the screen alive. His expression goes from impatient to stone cold murderous in a matter of seconds.
“Artem?” I touch his arm. “What is it?”
“Seamus.” He grunts.
“Oh. What does that windbag want? Did he find a new way to try to blow me up?” I force some lightness into my tone because his eyes are getting that stony look again. He’s blocking something out.
“He’s dead.”
The Boston wind is crisp the afternoon I bury Seamus. A line of black limousines, SUVs and town cars starts at the gravesite and fades into the distance.
“Who are all these people?” Elana asks leaning into me.
“The Irish,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulders as the priest moves into position with his bible propped open.
It’s a short service, but the processional of people giving their last respects as they pass the casket covered in roses seems to take forever. Elana shifts from foot to foot beside me. The woman just can’t stand still for this long. And it’s too cold for her to be standing out here this long.
At least I got her to wear a warm coat over the dress she wore. She stuffs her leather-gloved hands into the pockets as a shiver runs through her.
“We should get you into the car.” I turn to ask Kaz to take her, but she shakes her head.
“No. I stay with you.”
