Hitman's Baby (Mob City Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

terrifying Antonov family had come to power and the truce with the police had broken down, they were the kind of guys who were far more likely to murder first and ask questions later.
    I began to catalog what I knew about him. He stood easily over six foot with room to spare, and had hands that radiated a composed yet boundless strength. He wasn't GQ magazine pretty, but instead looked rugged and tough. His face was lightly scarred, and his eyes, a wolfish gray, flickered about the bar, endlessly searching for threats. But when they fixated on me, I felt like there was no one else in the room.
    "I should have stepped in sooner," he said, his face wreathed in what seemed to be an entirely heartfelt guilt. "I watched it all happen, but –."
    I'd already reached over the table for his hand before my brain registered what I was doing, feeling a boldness coursing through me that I hadn't felt in years. Rick had always hated public displays of affection… I checked myself before I let that negative train of thought developed any further.
    Don't think about him .
    Roman's hand was warm, and the second I touched it a shiver of excitement traveled the length of my spine. I knew that I wanted to reassure him. It was the least that I could do after all he'd done for me. But for a long couple of seconds my throat was choked up. It had been a long time since anyone had cared about me like this. I also found his quiet reticence strangely endearing – he seemed to stumble over words now, whereas before, in the heat of the moment, he had acted in an imperial, commanding manner. I began to suspect that perhaps he often didn’t do much talking, like he was more comfortable in the physical world, of bravery and actions and deeds, and didn't find himself at home elsewhere. "You don't need to apologize for anything," I said, and I meant it.
    I drank him in, the sight of him, and perhaps more importantly, the smell. You hear a lot about love at first sight, and there was some of that, but with Roman, he just smelt right . He smelled as though he was already a part of me, as though I was a jigsaw puzzle and he was the last, elusive piece. I drained my glass, feeling the heat of the whiskey burning through my body. I fought back the urge to scrunch up my face at the burn, feeling a desperate urge to impress him. Hell, who was I kidding, I wanted to do a whole lot more than just impress him.
    His upper lip trembled, as though he was searching for the right word to say, and then stopped. It happened again, and I was about to say something when he squeezed my hand. It felt as though an unspoken message had been communicated between us,
    "You want to get out of here?" I asked. I scrunched my eyes, surprised at how much I wanted him to say yes. I'd only known the man for what, a matter of minutes, and yet he already felt like the most important man I'd ever met. Perhaps it was just a rebound thing, something to do with my emotional vulnerability after Rick's latest act of violence, just something I needed to get out of my system, but it didn't feel like that. It felt real.
    He blinked with surprise, and tensed up, as if he was scared that I was asking him a trick question. "You mean?" He said hesitantly, his icy gray eyes large with hope.
    It wasn't a question, and judging by the look of him, it wasn't that Roman thought I was inviting him to bed, either. Though I was, even if I didn't know it yet. I stood up, my decision made for me, perhaps sped along by the alcohol that was rushing around my system.
    Every single person that was left in the bar suddenly looked down into their drinks. I blinked automatically, then flushed with an emotion that wasn't quite embarrassment, and wasn't quite pride, but somewhere in the middle. "Yeah," I said. "Look at this place; it was a wreck before you started chucking bodies around. It's not exactly the kind of place a girl imagines her first date with a handsome hero, you know?
    This time it was his turn to flush