1.2 | The Prince of Thieves

Chapter 40

A/N: I just want to appreciate all my new and old readers. You guys are awesome, and thank you for the support you have given me ever since I started writing The Yakuza Bride. After so many failed attempts of getting The Prince of Thieves back on its feet again, your encouragement means a lot to me. And thank you for loving my babies (Leon and Hana and everyone else except for some nasty guys). So I hope you enjoy this chapter.

~

'Are you still angry?' she murmured. Her voice was soft in the dark and he felt her stir in his arms. In response, he held her closer to him, pressing all of himself against her.

So she was still awake. He was just about to nod off. They hadn't managed to go through the photographs together after all. Hana had been straightening some of them at her dresser and it had filled him with guilt to see the creases on them. Had he been that rough? And now she was asking him if he was still angry?

'Yes,' he had to admit. He could still recall the shock that froze him when Mickey showed him the picture of her and Juan, followed by heart-wrenching fear for her safety. But Mickey had reassured him that she was safe. The boys had wisely changed their plans when Hana appeared and had taken to keep an eye on them instead. The fact that she could have died because of an order he gave filled him with alarm and he was annoyed she was so easy about it. Did she not care about her own safety? Was she not aware of how afraid he was of losing her? Did she not know how jealous he had been of Juan's tenderness towards her? 'The next time you want to do something like that, let me know. I'll go with you.'

She wriggled about to face him, entangling their legs in the process.

'Turn over,' she urged, excitement inflecting her tone as she lightly prodded his shoulder with a hand. 'You be the baby spoon.'

'I think it's tiny spoon,' he muttered but flipped about anyway. Somewhere, a portion of his mind sleepily pondered what she was trying to do. But he had reached a point between sleep and consciousness where he could no longer form complete thoughts.

'Same thing,' she replied, sliding an arm under his neck and cuddling up to him with her body plastered to his back. 'How does it feel? Good?'

He grunted. A warm hand crept up on his abdomen from under his shirt to rest comfortably on his stomach and her legs tangled themselves with his once again. It was a different feeling altogether, being held like that, like she was comforting him, watching over him too.

'Seriously,' he reiterated, his voice a deep rumble in his chest. 'Next time, just tell me.'

'I was afraid of your reaction.'

'You should be afraid of my reaction if you don't tell me,' he nearly snapped.

'There you go,' she murmured lightly, pressing a kiss to the back of his head. 'Being all protective.'

'That's my job,' he stated before his lips glued themselves shut, giving way to the density of sleep.

A playful whine left her throat. Did she have to wiggle against him like that? It was all part of her plan, wasn't it? he thought drily. Did she think bundling him in her arms like that would make him less annoyed? In any case, he went to sleep all snug and cozy. He woke up the next morning to find her all splayed atop of him. How had that happened? He shifted his head sleepily, puffing at the strands of hair in his face. He had an arm missing, he realised. With a muffled groan, he shifted and extricated a very numb left arm from under her. How had she fallen asleep on his arm? It took him some furious rubbing and wringing before pinpricks of sensation returned. By then, she had sleepily forced her arms under his back to hold tight onto him.