But I wasn’t stupid and this constant refrain from Ren was inference I was.

“Tell me, Zano, if Lee was nosing into this for a client, would you think it was reckless for him to do so?”

“I think you’re convinced you’re bulletproof like your brother and his boys but they’re not, Stark getting a gut shot proved that. You’re definitely not because I don’t care how often you’re target shooting at Zip’s, you got no play in the field.”

I knew this was going nowhere and it was making me beyond annoyed so I also knew it was time to shut it down.

“We’re not talking about this, Zano,” I declared.

“Ally, we’re talkin’ about it until you see reason.”

“I’m not being unreasonable.” My voice was getting higher and tighter. “It’s my life and what I like to do. And it’s none of your business.”

His eyes quickly skimmed my green velvet strapless dress-clad frame (Roxie, totally stylin’ with her bridesmaid dresses; they were the shit) then came back to my face and he started the shift into Asshole Speak.

“That body’s mine and I don’t want it filled with bullets and tossed in the Platte. So, for the hundredth f**kin’ time, babe, it is my business.”

“My body isn’t yours,” I snapped.

“You could have fooled me, the way you went wild for me last night and let me do all I wanted to do to you, I got creative and the number of breathy Rens I got meant you seriously got off on it.”

Total Asshole Speak.

Nothing flipped my switch like Asshole Speak.

And having not a small amount of tequila in my system, even in my bridesmaid dress, at my brother’s wedding, I was not down with Asshole Speak and I was Ally Nightingale. So I was going to do something about it.

Therefore, I took a step back, cocked my arm and let ‘er rip, shouting, “Go to hell, Ren Zano!”

Unfortunately, Ren caught my fist, kept tight hold and twisted it behind my back. This had the further unfortunate result of my body slamming into his and Ren being close enough to put his mouth to my ear.

“Challenge accepted,” he whispered there.

Oh shit.

I struggled against his hold.

Seriously. When was I going to remember he was a macho alpha Italian hothead and I needed to be cunning, not reactive? Though, this would likely necessitate me laying off the tequila and I liked my tequila.

He moved to my side, keeping his and my arm behind my back and marched me out of the ballroom at the Denver Performing Arts Complex where Hank and Roxie’s reception was taking place.

“Let go of me, Zano,” I hissed, partly humiliated (with only myself to blame; still, I blamed Ren), mostly infuriated.

“Not a chance.”

I yanked at my arm to no avail as he pushed us outside into the cold air.

Once there and with no one around and therefore not able to make a (further) scene, I wrenched my arm to get free, shouting, “Let go!” and found myself shuffled down the wide walkway, pressed into the side of the building with Ren’s mouth on mine, his tongue in my mouth and both his hands at my ass.

Hell.

This meant Ren was done fighting and ready for other things.

And this also meant Ren could nonverbally talk me into being ready for those other things.

This, in the cold Colorado December air, he did with mouth, tongue and hands.

He spent some time doing this. I spent that time enjoying it. And when his mouth finally lifted from mine, I was enjoying it so much I went after it to keep it.

When I didn’t get it back, my eyes slowly opened and I found my hands were under his suit jacket. One was pressed tight to the muscle of his back. The other was pressed tight to his hard ass.

Nice.

I also found his lips were quirking.

Annoying.

“That body isn’t mine?” he whispered.

I made no response and not just because I was breathing too heavily to speak.

“Least that mouth is.” Ren kept whispering.

I found my voice then.

“Kiss my ass, Zano,” I whispered back.

That got me a smile which meant Ren got a squeeze.

His smile got bigger.

My heart lurched.

“I can do that,” he stated.

I rolled my eyes even as my happy place quivered because he could, he had and I liked it when he did.

Still smiling, he bent his head and kissed my neck. Sliding his lips up to my ear, he murmured, “Let’s go home.”

Before I could say anything, he grabbed my hand and walked me quickly to his Jaguar (seriously, he was a bossy jerk, but his ride was sah-weet).

You will note, I didn’t protest.

Because I might have been guarding my heart.

But I was absolutely not guarding my body.

* * * * *

Christmas Morning…

I woke, naked, tangled up with Ren in his bed.

I had my face stuffed in the side of Ren’s neck, an arm thrown over his stomach and a leg thrown over his thigh.

He had an arm around me and the instant I woke, it tightened and his deep voice rumbled, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

I closed my eyes hard.

What the hell was I doing?

Just as quickly as my mind asked it, I decided Christmas day was not the time to explore that question.

I opened my eyes, and being a holiday person, a family person, and a person who found every reason possible to party and/or celebrate, I didn’t have it in me to lay down the boundaries during the most joyous day of the year.

Not with Ren close and his voice warm and rumbly on Christmas morning.

Therefore, I lifted my head, looked into his beautiful eyes and replied quietly, “Merry Christmas, Ren.”

His eyes dropped to my mouth as his arm got even tighter and dragged me up his chest.

But once we were face to face, it was me that went in for the Christmas kiss. And it was a kiss that I wasn’t sure Jesus would approve of, but to me, it was heavenly.

When we broke the kiss, Ren lifted a hand to my jaw and said, “Let’s get this part over with, honey.”

Oh shit.

Before I could intervene in order to stop him from starting a joyous day in a non-joyous way, he went on.

“Before I give you your present and you take off to be with your family, promise me right now, and mean it, that you’ll stay away from dealers, growers, manufacturers, suppliers and transporters.”

Oh my God!

He got me a present?