Page 9 of Demanding Mob Boss

"I'm not your buddy and if you don't take your hand off my sister, I'll break every finger before I knock you out and leave you in the alley for the rats to find."

The man's eyes widen and then narrow, his chin juts out. "Your threats don't scare me."

"Are you an idiot?" Shea demands. "Get out while the getting is good." She's pushing against the guy, fear washing over her face. "Cian, let him go. We were just talking."

She wasn’t worried about letting a stranger sit beside her, but she's scared of what her brother will do?

Cian isn't holding onto the man. He's not even blocking his exit from the booth. I don't understand what has his sister so worried. She's showing all the anxiety I was feeling moments ago. Only now that Cian is here, my heart is beating slower and it's easier to breathe.

I could start my rhyme over again and look at his shoe instead of mine, but I don't need to. I already feel a lot calmer.

"I'm not afraid of your brother." The man is lying and his still jutting chin is false bravado. I can smell the sweat of his fear and see the other telltale signs of anxiety I am so intimately familiar with.

"You should be." Mr. Farrar is now standing to the left and behind Cian. He's looking at the man sitting beside Shea like he wants to punch him.

"What the fuck, dude? Come on Devon, there's an empty table over there. Let's take it." The man near me finally moves, stepping back a couple of paces.

I look up at Cian, letting his blue gaze further calm me amidst all the chaos of this crowded restaurant. "Would you like to join us?"

Shea makes a disbelieving sound. Mr. Farrar barks out a laugh, but Cian nods.

And I smile.

The deadly fury in Cian's blue gaze disappears. I scoot toward the wall, hoping he'll sit beside me and not his sister.

He does.

"I need that seat, mate." Mr. Farrar grabs the man still stubbornly sitting next to Shea and yanks him from the booth, tossing him away.

I hear a thump and cursing, but I ignore it.

Cian's hand is in my lap untwisting my fingers. "You're all right."

He's not asking, he's telling me. And I believe him. His big fingers brush against my thigh and my anxiety is pushed out completely by sexual awareness. I hope he doesn't notice.

Unlike almost everyone else, his body being so close to mine does not agitate me.

Mr. Farrar is now sitting beside Shea. He's looking at me like a bug under a microscope. It's weird but not stressful.

Shea stares at me, then at her brother, like she's trying to figure something out. "I thought you were going to kill him."

Cian's arm brushes mine when he shrugs. "I was thinking about it."

"But you didn't even break his hand," Mr. Farrar says, like that's some kind of feat and a surprising one.

Shea turns to glare at Mr. Farrar. "You didn't have to manhandle him like that. You're such a bully."

"He should have left when your brother told him to."

"Not everyone in this town does what my brother says."

"Those who don't learn to regret their mistake." Mr. Farrar grins and rubs his belly. "What did you order? I'm starving."

"I'm not sharing my food with you."

"Will you share your food with me, Anna?" Cian asks.

I nod.

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