Page 53 of Assassin's Obsession

"Stop that." I squeeze her more tightly to me. "You're going to fall and give yourself a skull fracture."

Should we have carpeting in here? I'll ask what she thinks when she's in a better mood.

A sound comes out of her a lot like the one my nonna's old fashioned kettle use to make when it came to a boil on the stovetop. "Someone is going to end up with a skull fracture and it's not going to be me. Let. Me. Go!"

"Di m kisa ou renmen, ma di ou ki moun ou ye."Derian gives Candi a look of respect, his words echoing in my head.Tell me who you love, and I'll tell you who you are. "You keep her, boss. She's as strong as my mamma, that one."

Without acknowledging Derian's words because of course I'm keeping her, I look at Mario. "Her phone."

He pulls it out of his pocket and offers it to me. "Here you go, boss."

I release Candi's legs and put my arm around her middle, with her facing away from me so I have a free hand to take the phone. She immediately starts trying to kick me with her heels and gets more than one solid hit in before I manage to get the phone into my own pocket.

Regretting not putting her in a fireman's hold to begin with, I rectify my mistake and dismiss my men with an inclination of my head.

Enjoying Candi's inventive invective and threats, I carry her into the room I just came out of.

Give my entire arsenal of weapons to the gun buyback program? My woman knows how to hit where it hurts. The fact that her threat shows how well she knows me warms me.

Ignoring threats and insults, I reluctantly let her go to set her on the couch closest to the fireplace. "A hoodie is not a warm enough jacket for this weather."

Reaching over, I press a hidden button in the wall near the mantle and the gas fire springs to life. Warm air gently blows from the vent at the bottom and I shift the ottoman so that when I sit down to face Candi, I'm not blocking it from reaching her.

"It's not winter yet." She squirms into a more upright position. "What business is it of yours what kind of jacket I wear anyway?"

She's not ready for an honest answer to that question, so I shrug. "Just stating an opinion."

"Well, keep your opinions to yourself. You're not my parent and even if you were, I'm years past being a child."

Grazie a Dio. The thoughts I have about her are not remotely kid friendly.

Candi squeezes her eyes shut and scrunches up her face. "I can't believe I'm talking about clothes with my kidnapper."

"I'm not your kidnapper."

Her eyes pop open again, filled with ire. "What would you call it?"

"I'm your man." Keeping the truth back isn’t doing her any favors.

"You should talk to your doctor about getting meds for those delusions of yours."

"It is fact, not fantasy." If any other man tries to claim her, he will die.

"You can't bemyman! We aren't dating. Before tonight we'd spoken maybe two sentences to each other."

"I've spent several nights a week with you for the past year, I'd say that constitutes dating." That's more time than I spend with any other person.

She stares at me like I've lost the plot. "You came to my club to conduct your mafia business while I danced. That'snota date."

"I wasn't there for business." That the darkened VIP section is a good place to get certain things done is inconsequential. "I was there for you."

"Well, I wasn't there for you." A flicker in her pretty brown eyes says something about that is a lie.

"Weren't you?" I push.

Heat darkens her cheeks again, but it feels more like embarrassment than anger. What does she have to be embarrassed about?

"I was working. You were working.Not a date," she emphasizes.

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