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I’ve got images of her throwing her head back while her insides milked my fingers as she came apart in my arms.
I’m not done with her—not by a long shot.
“Give me a chance to find out what the Maguires are up to and make sure you haven’t been drawn into it. Then we’ll talk about parting ways.”
Thankfully, she’s tired and, for once, doesn’t fight me on things. “Fine. Then what’s the plan?”
“Aiden’s on his way. It’s time to take our leave.”
“We’re leaving? Why not stay here?”
I make a quick scan of the sleepy street outside. Nothing seems out of place. We weren’t followed. “I need to follow up with my people. Very few people know of my connection with Rose, and I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want her in danger because of my family.”
She studies me as I speak and I’m not sure what she sees, but the tension eases out of her shoulders. “All right. If you insist.”
Good girl. She gathers her sneakers and sits on the stairs to slip them on. Even in the dim light of the hallway, I admire the gentle waves of her damp chestnut hair and the natural beauty of her face without makeup.
Then, she leans forward to tie up her shoes and I admire the way the t-shirt I gave her stretches to accommodate the lush curves of her tits. They hang heavy and sway as she gets her shoes on.
I adjust myself as discretely as I can manage and fight not to groan.
When she stands, I consider how easy it would be to pull the drawstring of my jogging pants and watch them fall to the floor.
Call me a caveman, but her wearing my clothes stirs something primal in me—something that demands that I not let her get away before I sample the sweet seduction that lies beneath them.
Not that I can do anything about that right now.
Or possibly ever.
She knows who I am now and if the cruelties of my reality have taught me one thing, it’s that men like me don’t inspire love.
And even though she knows I’m no saint, she has no idea how much of a monster I truly am.
No one does.
When she stands and gathers her wet clothes from the floor, I grab my boots and pull them on. “Does this mean I won’t have to chase you down the street?”
“Not tonight, at least,” she says, repeating my own words back at me. “I’m too tired and you’d just drag me back, anyway.”
Smart woman. “Aye, I would. And so you know…I phoned Jimmy and asked him to find your mam and have Ginny take care of her until we can get back.”
Her hand comes up to press against her chest. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
I dip my chin. “And since you’re resourceful and likely spent every moment under the spray of hot water planning your escape, I’ll remind you that not only would it be reckless with the McGuire boys running hot, but you wouldn’t be able to get your mam back to send her off proper.”
Her gaze narrows and I chuckle. “Och, you didn’t think of that?”
She bites her bottom lip and strides over to look out the window. “I considered running, but you know my name, and given the men at your beck and call, it would take you ten minutes to call the inns within walking distance to the pub to find out I’m registered at the Gilford.”
“Glad we understand one another.”
Her gaze is hard and unreadable as she takes me in. “I understand more than you think.”
I doubt that’s true.
I don’t underestimate the intelligence shimmering behind those dark brown eyes for a second. There’s more to her than she lets on, and the prospect of solving that mystery has its hooks in me.
But it’s been a long and tiring night and I’ve got hours ahead of me before it’ll be over. For now, Miss Laine O’Neill can keep her secrets.
