Page 82 of Her Wolf

“But I recognize you,” he said, stepping forward so he could bring his mouth to her ear again.

Again her chest hitched.

“You’re the new capo, aren’t you?” he murmured into her ear as the DJ’s track dipped in anticipation of a break.

She took a hurried step back, which gave him just enough room to fall to one knee. When he looked up, her eyes had transformed into golden saucers.

He drew out the gift box, flourishing it to her like a knight to a queen.

Eleodora grasped his wrist, trying to tug him to his feet. “What are you doing?” she whispered, glancing around wildly.

“Happy birthday, Eleodora,” Kane said airily, proffering the gift.

“Get up, get up!” She tugged hard, sending the gift box to the floor. Shock flickered over her painted features. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Then she was the one on her knees, hunting through a sea of legs for the gift box that had bounced away.

Kane rose to his feet, chin on his chest as he watched her hunting around on the floor.

It was exactly where the capo of a cartel belonged — on her fucking knees, begging for mercy.

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