Page 37 of Ruthless Sinner
Marco laughed. “Fair. Let’s go make sure the ice sculpture isn’t melting or whatever.”
My heart beat frantically in my chest as I followed him.I want you to love me. I want you to love me. I want you to love me.
I want to be allowed to love you.
CHAPTER15
Marco
Kennedy looked stunning in her dress, the color showing off her skin and the length showing off her legs. I could feel her sticking close to me, probably unsure what to do to navigate this sea of sharks without getting bitten, but none of that nervousness ever showed to the people she spoke with. To the curious—and gossiping—people who came up to meet her, she was nothing but light laughs and calm smiles.
I introduced her to Marla once the happy couple arrived. Marla, I had to admit, was just as smart and tough as Vincent. I hadn’t spent a lot of time with her—two deaths in the family were no joke—but now she seemed like she was finally ready to move on from her grief.
She smiled at Kennedy, asked about her family, expressed sympathy over the lingering illness and death of Kennedy’s mother—the consummate hostess.
Dear old Dad watched it all like a hawk, of course. I wished there was some way to protect Kennedy from his gaze. One slip up and Dad would be after the both of us, which Kennedy frankly didn’t fucking deserve.
I knew it was my own damn fault. I’d spoiled any good will or trust from previous big social gatherings thanks to my habit of bringing escorts and strippers or the dumbest heiress I could find. Instagram influencers, the daughters of celebrities, if they were beautiful, spoiled, and dumb, they’d fit my plan to outrage my father.
Now I had a woman that I actually really liked, that I wanted my dad to approve of, and he was understandably suspicious. Any ill-will directed at Kennedy was really my fault.
Which made me want to protect her even more.
“Marla and Kennedy seem to have really hit it off,” I noted to Vincent as I watched the two women converse.
Kennedy seemed pleasantly surprised by Marla’s personality, and I could tell the smile on her face right now was genuine.
“Mm.” Vincent looked at me. “You genuinely have feelings for her.”
“I wouldn’t have put it likethat,” I grumbled.
Okay, so maybe I had some ‘feelings’ for Kennedy. If you wanted to frame it that way. “Why, is that a problem?” I challenged.
Vincent turned to face me. “Marco, please. I’m just trying to help. You know we have to be careful who we let in.”
“You want to look into her.” My voice was flat.
“I looked into Marla. It’s how it goes.”
I knew that. Of course I fucking knew that. This wasn’t a hill that I could really afford to try and die on. But that didn’t mean I had to be fucking happy about it. “I’ll—”
Vincent held up a hand. “I’ll look into her. You’re compromised.”
“Because I havefeelingsfor her?” I did air quotes.
“Yes, Marco, for fuck’s sake.” Vincent rolled his eyes.
He looked like he might say something else, too, but then his gaze slid from me to over my shoulder. I turned around to see what the hell he was looking at, and saw that one of the Russians—I had no fucking clue which one—had somehow sidled up to Kennedy while I was distracted with my brother.
The guy had that stupid slicked-back hair look going on that always made someone look like they’d stepped out of a bad ‘80s movie about politicians. He had a look in his eyes that I didn’t like in the least, and—his hand landed on Kennedy’s upper arm.
Kennedy did an admirable job of pretending to laugh at whatever his stupid joke was, even as I saw fire blazing to life in her eyes.
I knew that Kennedy could take care of herself. Strippers generally did, since you never knew when a bouncer might be distracted and you’d have to take care of a bad customer yourself in the meantime. And nobody had a fire like my girl.
But in that split-second, it wasn’t about whether or not Kennedy could defend herself. It was about some upstart prick trying to start a fight by thinking he could just put his hands onmygirl.
Maybe he thought she was just another fling of mine and so it wouldn’t matter to me. But even my flings were off limits. Once we’d parted ways? Have at ‘em. But while they came back to my bed at night? They weremine.
