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I cast a sideways glance at him as we approach the Quinn home and wonder what is going on in his mind. He faced off against a rival mob tonight, was shot at, and sitting here beside me is the tensest I’ve seen him.
Why doesn’t he want to be here?
Maybe he doesn’t want me to be here.
The gates to his family home loom ahead, grand and imposing. We approach a guard house where two men with automatic weapons are standing sentry. The gates split apart without us stopping, and Tag rolls down his window and nods. “On your toes tonight, lads. Safe home.”
Aiden drives along the winding path and I wonder how long it will be until we see the house. Sitting forward, I open the window wider.
The grounds are expansive and there are cameras among the trees and movement in the shadows tells me there is an unmistakable presence of more security personnel.
How will I ever escape from here?
“You won’t.” Tag’s voice is harsh, his gaze hard.
I blink. “I won’t what?”
A sly smile curls his lips. “I’ve been trained to read people my entire life, Laine. Assume I can read your mind.”
I cross my arms and glare at him. Such an autocratic, arrogant ass.
He barks a laugh and nods. “Aye, I can be. Now, be good. We’re here. In ten minutes, you’ll be in your room and rid of me for the night.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all evening.”
The house itself is an elegant stone castle, its ivy-clad façade and pointed, leaded windows a beautiful testament to an old-world charm. The lights in the front flower beds illuminate the structure like something out of a millionaire magazine.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.
Yet, the tight security makes it clear that this place is built as much for defense as it is for comfort.
Aiden pulls the SUV under a wide overhang on the side of the castle and a silver-haired woman in traditional livery rushes out through a set of double doors.
When the engine cuts off, Tag gets out and somehow makes his way around to open my door before I get my buckle off and can do it myself.
I peg him with a look. “You can cut the gentleman routine, Mr. Quinn. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? No, I don’t think so.”
I slap away his hand as he extends it to me to help me out of the truck and he laughs. “You’re cranky when you’re tired.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been a day.”
“When and where do you want to meet, brother?” Aiden asks.
“In the war room in ten,” Tag says. “And make sure Finn joins us. He’s been moping too long.”
“Agreed.”
Tag walks beside me as we approach the woman, and she dips her chin. “Such a pleasure to have you home again, sir.”
“Thank you, Cora. Is the Silver Room ready for a guest?”
“Yes, sir. Always.”
“Perfect. Then please fix a tea tray with a light snack and bring it up to Miss O’Neill. She’s had a long day and will turn in straight away.”
“Aye, sir. I’ll be right up, ma’am.”
I’m about to tell her not to bother, but I don’t have the energy. Sure. Whatever. If it makes him feel like he’s in charge of me to give orders, let him think that.
