Page 142 of The Vigilante's Lover

Jax sits on the bed, holding the ring in his palm. “I think it’s just a plain ring. It doesn’t set off any sensors on any equipment. It looks old.”

I take it from him and slide it on my thumb. “I wonder how it ended up in our stash.”

“No telling,” Jax says. “You seem to like it.”

“I do.” I take it off and turn it over. Inside, the initials KHS are engraved. “I wonder whose initials these are,” I say.

“No telling. There are no Vigilantes that match them. I checked.”

“Really? You were that curious?”

His eyes watch me steadily. “I was trying to find out the secrets of your safe house.”

I pick up his hand and slide the ring on his finger. “It’s a good fit for you.”

He holds it out like a woman examining a diamond, and I burst into giggles.

“Does it make my fingers look fat?” he asks.

God, I’m dying. Jax? Playful? It didn’t seem possible any time before.

I snatch up the blue negligee. “I guess I should put this on,” I say.

The air seems to crackle between us. “I’d say definitely, yes,” heagrees.

I pick it up and head into the bathroom.

I close the door and lean against it. My stomach is turning somersaults. I’m so lost. I want him by me all the time.

I’ve totally fallen for this man.

And yet, we’re in so much danger. I don’t see how we can get out of this. The Vigilantes seem at our heels every moment. So many close calls. Poisons. Bombs.

I turn to the giant mirrors surrounded with movie-star bulbs, like I’m in a dressing room at a film studio. I peel off the MMA T-shirt and jeans.

My hair falls in soft waves on my shoulders, probably due to the fancy shampoo and conditioner Armond sent. My life is such a strange seesaw of fairy tale and horror flick.

Probably there is a matching bottom to this filmy top somewhere in the suitcases, but it’s too late to go looking for it now. Thankfully my underwear is also blue, so it works all right with the negligee.

I take off my bra, feeling sort of in awe that Armond nailed the fit on that, and tug the top over my head. It flutters down like a wedding veil, and about as transparent. This outfit hides nothing at all.

I take a deep breath and put my hand on the doorknob. I wonder what Jax is thinking of this time. Ropes? The tickler? Something new? I feel a rush of heat just thinking about it. I don’t know how I fell into the hands of a man like Jax De Luca, but I am so grateful that I did.

I open the door, trying not to feel shy in the outfit.

Jax looks up, his eyes appreciative on my body.

He’s naked on the bed, his skin glowing in the soft light.

And in his lap, he holds a gun.

19: Jax

Mia takes a step back into the bathroom when she sees the gun.

I wait for her to ask about it, although I have to stifle a visible reaction to her appearance in that sheer bit of fabric. I’ve seen Mia in a lot of states of dress, ripped nightgown, naked in ropes in a field, and wearing a red thong and nothing else in a barn.

But this?