Page 37 of Ruthless Enforcer

"Not quite," I say.

Clara turns to me, her eyes wide, her lips parted.

She thinks I’m going to kiss her.

That’s an excellent idea. I pull my encrypted phone from my pocket and unlock the camera. I slide my left arm around Clara's waist, hauling her flush against my chest before she can anticipate the move. The air leaves her lungs with a soft gasp as her hips collide with mine.

"Smile for the family, wife," I whisper against her temple as I put her left hand on my bicep, angling the diamond directly toward the lens.

She doesn't pull away. She leans into the contact, tilting her face up toward mine. I catch her chin with my thumb, turning her mouth into mine. It’s not a polite peck for a judge, but a firm, possessive press of lips that parts hers just enough to taste the heat waiting inside.

Lifting the phone, I take the picture.

Click.

Snapping a couple more, I break the kiss before I lose what little control I have left, though the dark, heavy flush rising on Clara's cheeks tells me she felt every single volt of that current.

I open the secure messaging. I link Alessandro's private line and James Whitlock's personal encrypted cell into a single broadcast channel.

I attach the photo to a group text.

Presenting Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel Reyes.

You're in-laws now. Try not to destroy each other's supply lines while we're on honeymoon.

We'll check in after a couple weeks.

I hit send.

The little blue checkmarks turn solid. Delivered.

"That should stop the bleeding in Helena," Clara murmurs, staring at the screen as the messages register.

"Or cause a stroke." Pocketing the phone, I look down at her.

She looks up at me.

We just pulled off the most audacious strategic coup in the history of the northern territory, turned a hostage into an alliance in under twenty-four hours. Cold. Calculated. Nothing but a move on a chessboard.

Except her hand is in mine, my diamond is on her finger, her ring is on mine, and every possessive instinct I have is roaring two words so fucking loudly I can barely think.

My wife.

30

CLARA

I’m Gabriel Reyes’s wife.

This was my fantasy for so long.

If only I can truly make it my reality.

31

GABRIEL

The Oregon Coast doesn’t welcome visitors. It endures them.