Vengeance Aside (Wanted Men 0.5)(21)



She looked down at Farah’s dress to see if she had any stains. Shockingly, there was nothing.

“You were spared,” he said as if he knew she was looking for blood.

“Was I?” Her question encompassed more than splatter, and he knew it because he sighed again.

“I didn’t have a choice, Magdalena. Aside from the reasons I spoke of, killing that cunt became a necessity the moment he touched you and spoke to you with so little respect. I don’t expect you to understand this right now, just know that if there had been another way, I would have taken it to spare you the memories you now have of the first night we met. Luckily, when you share it with our children, they will have grown up as I did, so it shouldn’t shock them too much. They might even appreciate the story one day.” A glint of humor flashed in his eyes. “Well, the boys might.”

The boys? The boys they would have? Together?

An eagerness that was selfish and greedy flooded her, making her dizzy from the power behind it. She fought it, though. What the fuck was he talking about? How could he speak as though everything was already settled? How did he even know she was attracted to him? So they’d kissed. Big deal. Would he hold her captive and force himself on her to have these children he spoke about so naturally and with such an anticipatory note in his deep voice?

The fact that it would never get to where it was forced sex because she was wickedly attracted to him didn’t matter. In fact, she wished he’d bring his hands over and part her knees. His mouth was right there. In perfect position. All she had to do was move to the edge of the bed…

But that was beside the point. So, too, was the fact that it seemed they were after the same thing. Only, she wanted their children for herself. She didn’t want to share them with him. But going by the way he spoke of his father and uncle, and the affectionate tone he’d used when mentioning his mother, that would never happen. He was plainly passionate about family, so he was out of the running as a donor for her.

She tipped her head as disappointment gnawed little holes into her stomach. So he’d be a one-night-stand rather than a sperm donor. So what?

A genuine frown pulled down the corners of her lips as she tried to stop the sadness seeping into her. Really. It was no big deal. Sure, the road to pregnancy would have been an amazing ride with the guy, but to go there with him would have left her spawning arrogant little murderers.

Or a beautiful little murderess, she thought with a sigh he had to have heard.

No. She’d just have to wait. Another possible donor would come along.

How she would top this one, though, she wasn’t sure. Already she knew any other would be compared. And they’d fail. But that couldn’t last forever. Her memory of this one night would fade.

It had to.

“You’re, um, a very confident mobster.” She bravely fingered the silky material of his shirt sleeve. “Why are you so sure things will go your way when I’ve already told you I won’t have a relationship with you? Which means there won’t be any boys or girls to tell our story to,” she forced herself to add even though it…hurt?

You’re giving up on our dream, her heart cried.

I know, but he’s not an ideal candidate.

Yes, he is. He’s the only one.

That had Dale’s spine straightening. Fuck that. There was no such thing as an only one. Not in her world.

Oblivious to her inner struggle, Lukas made a shrugging motion that wasn’t really a shrug. “Because fighting it is futile. Our future together was decided the moment I saw you.”

See? her heart whispered, scaring the shit out of her. “Decided by whom?”

“The powers that be. God. The fates. You may choose whichever one suits you.”

Dale wanted to laugh. Right in his beautiful face. But she couldn’t because something inside her understood that on some level. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t been poleaxed when she’d first seen him. And, again, after they’d kissed. And, even now, she wasn’t handling being in his presence very well. But that didn’t mean she had to see this as romantic rather than in-fucking-sane and very temporary. This thing drawing them together was lust, pure and simple.

The look on Lukas’s face said he wouldn’t agree if she voiced that opinion, so she gave up on the topic for the time being and moved on. “Where are we?”

“My home.”

“Where is your home?”

“Near Memorial.”

Her mouth dried as a feeling of inferiority immediately tried to swoop in and kick her ass. “Memorial. Big houses with marble flooring, arched doorways, and gourmet kitchens.”

“Our place is more of a compound. And we have two gourmet kitchens, but do not worry, yagodka. I did not bring you here to cook my meals for me.”

Ignoring the goosebumps that popped up all over her when he spoke Russian, she asked, “Does anyone live here with you? A girlfriend? Maybe a wife?” The thought was enough to make her glands water. If he said yes, even though it didn’t matter in the long run, she would vomit. She knew it. Then she’d likely cry. Like an idiot.

“I had neither until I carried you through the door.”

She barely refrained from pressing her hand to her heart and swooning like a big, red, cherry sucker. Instead, forced her eyes to roll at his ability to say all the right motherfucking things.

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