Marrying the Mob Prince
2-10

INDIE Blood.

Everywhere.

I tossed a comforter over the body and mopped the growing pool around him. I plunged the mop into the bucket and shook stained water from the threads. Pink swirled in the bleached suds, the color too cheerful to be real.

What had I done?

I fought the scream begging for release and stuffed drenched rags in a garbage bag. My head was too clogged with traffic to make sense of the items I trashed. Towels-I'd used them to soak up his blood. A hair-tie-he'd ripped it off me. Kitchen knife-I'd shoved it in his chest.

Two impatient thuds hit the door.

Thank God.

I stood, my knees barely supporting my weight. I threw my gloves in the bucket. Dense foam swallowed the plastic fingers, the sight forming an icy knot in my stomach. "Indie. Open up."

Knox's deep baritone dragged my attention to the door. I stumbled toward it like a zombie. I palmed the wood but couldn't bring myself to unlatch the deadbolt. Did I really want to be at his mercy?

Some doors should stay closed. This one stopped Knox from barging in and changing my life forever. I could tell him I'd changed my mind and deal with the corpse myself. Or I could roll the dice with Knox and take whatever he offered. I clutched the doorknob tighter. I almost begged him to leave. Somehow, this man scared me more than the dead body.

"Are you hurt?" Knox's voice broke with huskiness, and it sent a ripple of shock through me. "Indie, say something."

"Something." My teeth clamped on my lips to kill the sob.

The knob twisted and wrenched as he tried to force his way inside. "Indie, unlock the door!"

"I'm not sure if I should."

"What does that mean?"

I cracked the door open.

A sliver of a man peeked through the gap. Knox leaned toward the threshold with a James Dean-like arrogance. His fingers wedged through and he pushed. Knox shoved his thigh in, wrestling for control. His pupils contracted when he met my eyes.

"What happened?"

"I did a bad thing." My throat thickened. "I don't know what to do. I-I think you're the only one who can help me, but I don't know. I have no idea who else to call."

"What did you do? Is that blood?"

He body slammed the door. It knocked me aside as it flung open. Suddenly, he stood beside me, his palms heating my cheek.

"Who did this to you?"

My lip quivered. "I made a mistake."

He pulled me into him, his perfect mouth angled to kiss me. He didn't. Instead his hands slid down my face and neck, gliding to my back. I buried my face in his bomber jacket and felt the rapid pulsing of his chest. "Tell me, Indie."

"It's over there."

He peeled himself from me and whirled around, pushing me behind him. Then he seemed to notice the bucket, the mess on the floor, and the arm peeking from under the comforter.

He ripped the cover off the dead man. The knife lay beside him like a bloody exclamation point. Knox nudged the man's ribs, his brow furrowing.

"He's dead," I explained, as though it wasn't obvious. "He's been that way for a while."

"I see that. Are we alone?"

"I-I think so."

Knox stalked into the kitchen. He seized the filet knife from the chef's block and tore through my apartment. Once he finished, he stood over the corpse. He stared at his lifeless body, still gripping the blade. "It was an accident," I whispered, facing the wall. "I didn't want to do it."

"You wouldn't." Knox spoke in a halting voice affected with disbelief. "You're not capable of anything like this."

"I had no choice."

My eyes shifted to his, silently begging him not to ask any more questions. Knox's gaze roamed over me, his cold curiosity taking in my distress. "Tell me everything."

"I-I had the knife. I hit him. He bled out. There was no time." I choked with a sob and wrung my hands, turning from the awful sight of Knox's naked shock. "I didn't have a choice. He attacked me." "Who is he to you?"

"I don't know. He must've broken in." My mind whirled as I picked up the pieces of the last few hours. "I-I walked home. I thought someone followed me, but I wasn't sure...and then I put my music on. I was cooking when I heard strange noises from my bedroom. The leeks were burning and my smoke alarm went off. He grabbed me. Shoved me to the couch. Started to take off my pants. I got away and stabbed him."

Knox stilled as I finished my story. His beautiful face betrayed nothing, not so much as a flicker of concern, but heat baked from him. His jacket trembled with the quakes from his body as though fighting to hold in...something. "Knox?"

He exhaled a harsh breath and ran fingers through his hair.

"Your knees are covered in blood."

"It's not-not mine."

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"I see."

Knox crossed the room and took my hand, warmth shooting up my arm. He led me to the couch and nudged me into its cushions. My heartbeat skyrocketed as he stood back, head cocked like a vulture inspecting its next meal. Despite his disturbing lack of compassion, I wanted him beside me. For some reason, this callous man made me feel safe. Perhaps because he was so strong and confident. I ached for him to hold me, to nuzzle me, to give me a shred of sympathy. But affection from Knox was as rare as turning over a rock and replaceing a diamond.

"So...why am I here, Indie?" His hands shoved deep in his pockets as I clung to the sofa. "Am I the guy you call when you need someone to clean up your mess?" "Of course not!"

A soft curve touched his lips. "I'm grateful to hear that, because I didn't come here thinking this was what you needed me for."

The angles of him grew harsher, bitter disappointment flashing through his sneer. Clearly, he'd expected me to fall for him, and the fact that I hadn't grated his pride. "You're being an asshole."

"Indie, it's not just that you're using me. You've dragged me into a very compromising situation."

I flushed, sinking into the cushions.

"You're asking me to get rid of a body. Correct?"

"No! I'm not! Knox, I swear to God!"

"Really?" he laughed, glancing over his shoulder. "Then what's the bleach for, sweetheart?"

"Knox, I panicked. You don't know what that's like because you're never scared. I had no idea what to do. I called you for help. Not to use you."

"Don't lie to me. I tolerate deceit in the weak, not in you."

A deep pain struck my breast and my throat closed up. "Fine. I was terrified and wanted you to make it go away. Does that satisfy you? Do you want me to admit that I'm a horrible person? I killed someone, and I'm trying to cover it up. I am horrible."

"No, you're not."

His softened tone blew me apart.

A hot tear rolled down my cheek, and he grazed his knuckles over it.

"I didn't mean to kill him, Knox."

He shrugged.

"Shouldn't we call the police?"

He grasped my trembling chin, leaning in close. "I'll handle that for you."

My insides blackened as I caught the unspoken but in his sentence. "In exchange for what?"

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"The way I see it, you owe me your life. If you want my help, you'll do what I say."

I had no other options, and I had zero room to negotiate. So I nodded, too upset to protest.

"It'll be all right. I'll take care of everything."

That's what I'm afraid of.

My eyes fluttered at the sensation of his fingers contracting on my cheek. Spirals of heat circled the pit of my stomach. Just as his security and warmth wrapped me like a blanket, Knox detached from me. He apparently knew when to give me affection and when to take it away. Now he had me where he wanted-desperate.

"We need to get you cleaned up," he murmured, coaxing me upright. "Bathroom."

I obeyed, my limbs on autopilot. My guts wouldn't unclench, despite the comfort of his solid, male body and the protection it offered. He guided me to the bathroom. "Knox, am I in trouble?"

"No." His chest flush against my back, he urged me toward the sink. "Wash your hands."

I stumbled forward. The faucet and basin smeared with red as I washed myself. So much to clean. Fingerprints everywhere. The corpse would have to be moved-God, what would we do with it?

I choked out a sob.

Knox nudged a towel into my trembling hands. I balled my face in the fabric and sucked down shaky breaths. His index finger stroked under my waistband.

"I'm going to take this off, Indie."

I nodded.

His mouth pressed into my shoulder as he undressed me, his firm touch answering my unspoken plea. My eyes glossed over as he pulled off my pants, palm gliding down my backside. He palmed my naked back. My T-shirt followed his impatient movements, and then a twist of his fingers unsnapped my bra. I held my breath as he yanked off my panties. Then he turned me around like a mannequin on display. I watched him dominate my body through the mirror.

Damp spots sprinkled his white T-shirt. The sight of it clinging to his muscular chest and arms filled me with heat. Everything about Knox was primed to appeal to me, from his narrowed eyes to the hollows in his cheeks, the stubble under his sharp jaw, the denim wrapping his rock-hard thighs. All of him, really.

A spark teased the space between my legs. I marveled at my body's reaction.

How does he do this to me?

"Business first. Pleasure later," he murmured, as though he had a window into my thoughts. "Wash up and stay in the bedroom until I come get you."

He slid the curtain open and turned on the water.

I gripped the shower rod, rattling it with my shaking. "Knox, what's this going to cost me?"

A dark smile ticked across his face.

"Everything."