The Mafia Kidnapped Me

(10) The Art Of Locking Lips.

He stood there like a giant, his strong arms crossed, his brow furrowed, and his face filled with worry.

"Well?" He asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.

Pamela stood and dusted her skirt. "I.. uh... What are you doing here?"

"I thought you wanted me to come."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes you did, and I'm glad I'm here to save you once again." He smirked. "You could have died from depression."

"It's not funny." She replied, anger burning through her.

"Why did I say wrong?"

"Everything! You don't joke with people's feelings like that especially if they're going through a difficult phase."

He looked at her without replying and Pamela waited for him to in tense silence, but his response filled her with more anger and pain.

"Noted."

She shut her eyes and took in deep breaths but it did nothing to dispel the feeling of pain and dismay that was filling her. Without intending to, tears filled her eyes and she started to cry. She dug her teeth into her lower lip and quietly sobbed.

Devlin groaned. "Okay, okay, come here."

She dodged his outstretched arms. "Don't touch me." Her voice sounded tight due to her tears.

He reached out again and said softly. "Come here."

Who could refuse him with that gentle voice of his that was coaxing and luring her in? She let him take her and his embrace was surprisingly warm and gentle. Pamela was expecting something bone-crushing, what, with his bulky figure? He smelled of earth and horses and gunpowder; a huge contrast to Marcel's rosy smell.

Why was she even comparing?

He gently tapped on her back to soothe her and that did it. She let open the floodgates and wept. Ear-crashing sobs. All the pent-up frustrations from the moment her mother had announced her father's passing, and her experience with Devlin all poured out from her eyes. She had to let it out, bit by bit, and Devlin helped her through it. His patient taps and the consequent back rubbing helped a lot.
It took minutes before she could calm down.

After she had calmed, she raised her head and saw she had wet Devin's suit.

She tried to dab at it. "I'm - I'm sorry I -"

"It's okay. Are you feeling any better?"

As if just realizing it was Devlin she was talking to - and was still holding her waist in a very dangerous and sensual manner, she moved away from the circle of his masculine embrace.

"Yes, thank you."

There was an awkward pause. Then Devlin cleared his throat.

"Come with me."

"No!" She said sharply then grimaced. "Er... I - I mean, I can't. I have to go back to the house."

"Don't."

Wait, was he deaf or what? I can't go. Simple. Pamela wished it were that simple to say the words.

"Come, Pammy," he said.

"That's new." She said, looking him square in the eyes.

"I don't have time for this." He said impatiently.

"Then go. You're so rude." Pamela said crossly, hoping and praying to the high heavens that he didn't take her word for it. She didn't want him to go, despite the insanity of it.