NOLA Knights Collection by Rhenna Morgan

Author:Rhenna Morgan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises Limited
Published: 2021-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A ding. A pleasant, yet out of place sound in the realm of Cassie’s dream-quiet mind that lifted her slowly upward. Not quite awake, but no longer asleep either.

Had she heard something? Or had she imagined it?

She shook the thoughts off. She felt too good to care. Relaxed. Content and warm. Safe and protected.

Kir.

It was his arms around her. The strength and warmth of his body blanketing her back, and the steady rise and fall of his breath creating an almost meditative cocoon. She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to think about anything except this exact moment and everything about last night that had led them to it.

She was so in over her head. A baby lamb tottering on shaky legs alongside a full-grown lion. All she’d been able to hear on the drive home and while they’d talked was a cacophony in her parents’ voices.

Are you insane?

Why are you standing here listening to this man?

He admitted he was mafiya.

You don’t fraternize with dangerous people. You stay away from them.

This situation is dangerous.

Be smart.

Run.

Run.

Run.

But she didn’t want to run. Didn’t want to listen to the voices in her head anymore. Not even a little bit. She liked being with him. Had always felt a little more alive in his presence. More centered and aware. She’d marveled at the sensation even from the beginning. How easy everything from conversation to chemistry flowed with him. How even the simplest experience felt richer and more vibrant with him in the equation.

And then there was his family.

They’d been kind. Thoughtful. Inquisitive and accepting. Aside from that initial, piercing stare, even Sergei had seemed to lower his guard and allow her a glimpse into the man behind the stern exterior. Maybe it made her stupid or naive, but she wanted what they had. Wanted to be around people who didn’t judge. Who didn’t appear to give two figs about how successful she was, or offer incessant opinions on how she should or shouldn’t be.

You and I will be.

He’d said it clearly. Unflinchingly.

And something inside her had whispered back a single Yes.

The ding sounded again. Definitely not her imagination, but the low sound of a text message coming from the living room.

Kir stirred behind her, drew in a long, sexy inhalation and nuzzled the spot just behind her ear. His low, sleep-sexy voice stoked all the memories of last night and promised more on the horizon. “Someone wants to talk to you quite badly, vozlyublennaya.”

“They’ve only texted twice. That’s not urgent enough to make me move.”

His rumbling chuckle and the languid press of his lips at the back of her neck sent a shiver down her spine. “You must have been sleeping quite deeply then because you missed the three that came before the last two.”

No way. No one ever texted her that often. Not unless something major was going on at work, or Aunt Frieda was out with her girlfriends tying one on—the latter of which shouldn’t be happening this early on a Monday morning.

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