Page 27 of Sacrifice
She posted two hours ago—a photo of her and Elfe at Bubba’s, both grinning at the camera.
No sign of the finance fucker, which is good.
Means she went home alone, isn't rebounding into someone else's bed out of spite.
Though knowing Saga, she's probably planning her next move.
Another date with another safe, boring man who doesn't make her feel too much.
Another attempt to prove she doesn't need me, doesn't want me, doesn't dream about me every fucking night.
Stubborn woman.
But Rati's words stick with me:Saga responds better to action than words.
Maybe it's time to stop talking and start showing her exactly what she means to me.
What lengths I'll go to keep her safe.
What kind of man she's got claiming her, whether she admits it or not.
The scout's face flashes in my mind again, how he was looking for the women who don’t have men to protect them.
How his gaze would have lingered on Saga if she'd been there—beautiful, fierce, unmarked.
The perfect leverage against a man like me.
Three weeks is too long.
Hell, three days might be too long if they've already got eyes on us.
Tomorrow, I'll start the inventory, get the Irish deal moving.
I'll coordinate with Magnus on security, help Runes plan our misdirection with the planted product.
Handle all the club business that needs handling.
But tonight, I'm planning something else.
How to make Saga mine in every way that matters.
Before Los Coyotes or anyone else can use her against me.
She wants to hate me? Fine. But she'll hate me while wearing my mark, under my protection, in my bed, where I can keep her safe.
One way or another, Saga's stubborn streak is about to meet its match.
And I always was too competitive for my own good.
CHAPTER THREE
Saga
The smell of bacon drags me from sleep, which is both a blessing and a curse.
Blessing because Elfe makes the best hangover breakfast in Florida.
Curse because I didn't drink enough last night to justify needing one—I just feel like shit from tossing and turning, replaying Emil's words over and over.
